#when she needed to feel close to his dad again

[heartsriki]

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY ⌇ 우리를

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. sunghoon | word count: 5.7k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ childhood friends, tease ni-ki, middle school to highschool au, cussing, angst if you use a magnifying glass, fluff, kissing, underage drinking, miscommunication.

synopsis — Ever since middle school, Nishimura Riki has been an absolute pain. Now at your senior year of high school, things get complicated when confused feelings start to rise.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I am here to represent the playful over nonchalant riki agenda 🤓☝️I wanted this to give shitty 2000's romance movie did I succeed? (this is so ass but I haven't posted a pic in a while so muah, creative fics coming soon trust)

If there was one universal truth in your life, it was this: you hated Nishimura Riki.

Childhood best friends? The kind you see in movies, laughing over dumb jokes, sharing secrets under a blanket fort, or being there for each other no matter what? Yeah, that wasn’t you and Riki. Not even close.

Your history with him began the summer before middle school, a day you remembered all too clearly.

“Who’s moving in, Mom?” you asked, watching the moving truck parked outside the empty house next door.

She glanced over as she set down a stack of plates. “A family with a boy about your age,” she replied, patting your head. “Maybe you’ll make a new friend! Why don’t you go say hi?”

You wrinkled your nose, stepping back from the window. “I wish it was a girl.”

Mom sighed and gave you that knowing look as she moved around the kitchen. “You never know. Your dad and I were childhood friends once.”

“Gross,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “That’s so weird.”

And just like that, you moved on with your life, assuming the new boy next door was unimportant. After all, families came and went in your neighborhood. You didn’t expect him to stick around—or to matter.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The first day of middle school was supposed to be a fresh start. You had plans. Big plans. Make friends, fit in, and survive until High School. And for a moment, it seemed like everything would go smoothly. Until him.

Lunch was going fine. You grabbed your tray, scanning the cafeteria for a place to sit when you collided with someone. Hard.

Your lunch went flying, splattering all over you, and in your panic, you looked up, ready to apologize. But then you noticed he was perfectly fine—completely untouched—like the universe had gone out of its way to humiliate only you.

You glanced at his name tag. Nishimura Riki.

He crouched to help, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay—”

Before he could finish, a blinding camera flash went off, followed by whispers and giggles erupting all around you. Mortified, you bolted to the nearest bathroom.

You thought that would be the end of it, but Riki wasn’t done ruining your life. Far from it.

In gym class? He always aimed for you during dodgeball. At lunch? He somehow snagged the last banana milk every time. Clubs? Teachers practically begged him to join while you couldn’t even get a recommendation. Worst of all, everyone adored him. Everyone but you.

By the end of your first year, Nishimura Riki was your sworn enemy.

And then things got… complicated.

It happened one evening while you were studying in your room. A soft knock at the door interrupted your focus.

“Come in,” you called, expecting your mom.

She stepped inside with two glasses of water. “Remember the tutoring favor I mentioned? My friend’s son is here in need of help, Be nice, okay?”

“Sure,” you replied, not thinking much of it.

But when the door creaked open again, you froze.

“Not who you were expecting?” Riki grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You crossed your arms. “What are you doing here Riki?”

Riki winced. “Tutoring obviously, and could you please just call me ni-ki like everyone else?”

“You’re not coming in,” you snapped, blocking the doorway.

He sighed dramatically. “And what would I tell your mom?” He bent slightly to meet your glare, his grin widening when you finally moved aside.

“Fine. Sit down,” you muttered, plopping back at your desk.

For the next hour, you worked in tense silence. Or tried to, anyway. Riki kept fidgeting, pulling out a folded piece of paper halfway through.

“What’s that?” you asked, snatching it before he could stop you.

“Hey!” he yelped, scrambling to grab it back.

It didn’t take long to figure out what it was: another love letter. You rolled your eyes and tossed it back at him. “Veryyyy humble.”

“Not my fault I’m handsome, but it really is annoying though, I'm constantly surrounded… sometimes I feel like I'm drowning” he muttered, leaning back on his hands.

You were thrown off by his sincerity but you ignored him until he suddenly perked up as if struck by divine inspiration.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up straighter. “I have an idea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s never good.”

“Let’s be friends, like attached to the hip friends.”

You blinked. “What?”

He grinned. “Think about it. You don’t have anyone covering your back at school, and I need someone to scare off all the girls who keep following me around. It’s perfect.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hard pass.”

“Come on, at least think about it!” he whined.

Unfortunately, he didn’t leave you much of a choice. Day by day, Riki wormed his way into your life, showing up at your house, sticking by you at school, and, somehow, turning everyone’s attention to you.

It was annoying. It was infuriating. But, worst of all? It worked.

Fast forward to your senior year of high school, and here you were—still stuck with Nishimura Riki. And somehow, despite your ups and downs, things weren’t going to be quite so simple anymore.

You were buried in your assignments, your usual library spot surrounded by a fortress of papers, highlighters, and books. It was your sanctuary, a place where Riki always knew he could find you.

He wasn’t alone when he spotted you this time. A couple of his friends hung around, laughing about something entirely unimportant in his mind the second his eyes landed on you. His grin stretched wide, and with an exaggerated sigh, he excused himself. The girls groaned, rolling their eyes at his now-predictable antics. “You’re obsessed, ni-ki,” one of them muttered, but he didn’t care.

Jogging up to your table, he glanced at your mess of notes and books. You didn’t even look up. Of course.

“What is it, Riki?” you murmured, still scribbling, your tone bored, uninterested—classic.

“Would it kill you to talk to me lovingly every once in a while, Y/N?” he mocked, flopping into the chair across from you. His eyes darted to the pile of folded papers shoved to the side, and his eyebrows shot up. “Oh? What’s this? Love letters? These for me again?”

You finally glanced up, leveling him with that deadpan expression he swore you saved just for him. “They’re definitely not mine,” you replied flatly.

He gasped, hand over his chest like you’d shot him. “Poor baby. Jealous much?” he teased, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Of you? Hardly.”

Riki narrowed his eyes at you, suddenly curious. Now that he thought about it, he’d never actually seen you with anyone—no rumors, no dates, no shy confessions. And while you always rolled your eyes whenever he brought up girls in front of you, you never chimed in about any guy in your life. Suspicious.

“Y/N,” he started, his tone a little too casual as he began doodling nonsense shapes on the table. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Well, you remember Choi—”

“Choi Soobin? That lasted, what, a week?” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“And why do you think that is, genius?” you shot back, pointing your pencil at him accusingly.

Riki faltered for a split second before looking away. “Well… I think you can do so much better than him,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Your brow shot up, amused. “Oh? Alright then, Mr. Matchmaker. Who’s my ‘better match,’ huh?”

His mouth opened, then shut. For once, he didn’t have a quick answer. He gulped, scrambling to save face. “How about I… set you up?”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “With one of your fuckboy friends? No thanks.”

“Hey! Not them!” he laughed, hands up in defense. “I meant someone like… Sunghoon.”

That made you pause. “Sunghoon? Like tall, calm, cool, and basically perfect Sunghoon? Yeah, right. He wouldn’t go on a date with me in a million years.”

“What? Says who?” Riki shot back, standing up like he’d just been challenged to a duel. “I’ll talk to him. Watch and learn, Y/N. Watch and learn.”

“Riki—”

“Later! Don’t miss me too much” He winked and walked off, leaving you to roll your eyes at his retreating figure, wondering if he’d actually follow through or if this was just another one of his ridiculous schemes.

“Y/N? I thought you guys were dating,” Sunghoon said, his brow furrowing in confusion as he leaned back against the locker.

Riki nearly choked on his water, his eyes going wide as he turned to face him. “What? No, Y/N is just a friend.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Oh. Huh. Well, I think I’m gonna pass anyway. She’s kind of… boring?”

The words hit Riki like a slap. His head snapped toward Sunghoon so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Boring?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Says who?”

Sunghoon shrugged nonchalantly. “Everyone. I mean, I haven’t seen her at a single party or game, not even during lunch. What would we even talk about?”

Riki scoffed, crossing his arms as he glared at him. “Y/N is plenty of fun, asshole. What do you even know?” His voice was defensive, almost protective, and it surprised even himself.

Sunghoon tilted his head, studying Riki’s reaction. “I mean, she seems… quiet,” he admitted. “But now that I think about it, if you’re the one setting me up with her, she’s probably pretty great. You don’t exactly play matchmaker for just anyone.”

Riki blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Uh… well, yeah, she is great,” he muttered, not meeting Sunghoon’s eyes.

Sunghoon grinned. “You know what? Why not? She’s cute.”

Riki froze. His grip tightened on the strap of his backpack, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure why his stomach twisted at Sunghoon’s words. Calling you cute? Of course, you were cute. He’d always known that. So why did it sound weird coming from someone else?

He quickly shook off the strange feeling, chalking it up to his usual overprotectiveness. “Alright,” he said, his voice coming out more clipped than he intended. “But don’t do anything weird. Seriously.”

Sunghoon laughed, pushing off the locker. “Weird? Relax, I’ll be a gentleman. So, you gonna tell her, or should I?”

Riki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell her. Just… don’t mess this up, alright?”

Sunghoon smirked as he walked away. “I won’t. But, man, you’re acting real possessive for ‘just a friend,’ don’t you think?”

Riki didn’t respond, watching as Sunghoon disappeared down the hall. The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he was more than just “overprotective” when it came to you.

Today, you felt a kind of giddiness you hadn’t experienced in a while. After weeks of drowning in study sessions, late-night cramming for club responsibilities, and endless schoolwork, you were finally doing something for yourself. And to top it all off, you weren’t just going out—you were going out with a boy.

It had been forever since you’d made this much effort. You dolled yourself up, not too over the top, but more than your usual routine. Casual but undeniably cute. You felt like a new version of yourself, and it was exciting.

Standing in front of your mirror, you hummed along to the music playing softly in the background, carefully adjusting your hair. You tilted your head, giving yourself one last once-over with a satisfied grin when there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N, I’m coming in,” came the familiar voice.

Before you could even respond, the door creaked open, and Riki stepped inside. His usual easy-going demeanor faltered the second he saw you. The air felt heavy, and his eyes widened as if he’d been caught off guard.

For a moment, he just stared, the words dying in his throat. Why were you so dressed up? He’d seen you a thousand times, but never like this. Something about the way your hair framed your face, the slight gloss on your lips, and the way your outfit hugged your figure—it was like he was seeing you for the first time.

Were you always this pretty?

“Is he on his way? What kind of car does he drive?” you asked, practically buzzing with excitement.

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blinked, his expression hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Uh… yeah, he’s almost here,” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically stiff.

The doorbell rang, and your face lit up instantly. Clapping your hands together, you grabbed your bag and checked your outfit one last time. You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Not too bad, right? Think he’ll like it?”

Riki froze again. The words caught in his throat, and for a second, he thought about telling you the truth. That you looked beautiful. That the thought of you being this excited about someone else was bothering him more than it should.

But instead, his pride got the better of him. “I—well—you look stupid,” he blurted out, his words harsher than he intended.

You rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Say whatever you want, Riki. Your opinion doesn’t matter tonight. I’ll text you the details tomorrow!”

And just like that, you were gone, your scent lingering in the room as you hurried past him and out the door.

Riki stood there, staring at the space you’d just left. His chest felt tight, an unfamiliar weight settling there as he replayed the moment in his head. What was this feeling? Why was his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of you with someone else?

He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as he sat on your bed, shoulders slumping. Something was changing—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit yet. But as he sat there, his chest aching and his mind racing, one thing was becoming painfully clear.

He didn’t want to be the one you texted tomorrow to tell all the details about tonight. He wanted to be the one sitting across from you, the one you were so excited to see. And that realization scared him more than anything.

The next week was nothing short of torture for Riki. As if fate was playing a cruel joke, you and Sunghoon seemed to hit it off. You weren’t officially dating, but the two of you were in the so-called “talking stage.” It didn’t matter what stage it was—every second of it felt wrong to Riki.

Your usual library spot? You weren’t alone anymore. Sunghoon was always there, sitting across from you, leaning in too close, making you laugh in ways that Riki used to. Your desk? It was now stocked with your favorite snacks every morning—snacks that weren’t from Riki. And the final blow? You called Sunghoon by his nickname. His nickname. Riki clenched his fists every time he overheard it because not once in all the years he’d known you had you ever called him by a nickname.

What did Sunghoon have that Riki didn’t? He left snacks, visited you in the library, and called you nicknames. Riki did all of that first. So why wasn’t it enough?

For the first time, Riki felt you slipping away. And for the first time, he realized just how much you meant to him. But instead of confronting those feelings, he did what he always did best—he buried them.

The dismissal bell rang, and the school flooded with students rushing to leave. You were taking your time, slowly packing up while your music played softly in your headphones. A tap on your shoulder startled you, making you jump.

“Hey, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Sunghoon said with an easy laugh.

You laughed back, pushing him playfully. “It’s fine. Yeah, I’m ready to go, but we should wait for Riki. He might need a ride home.”

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed, confused. “ni-ki? I thought he went on that date.”

Your hands paused mid-motion. “What?”

“Yeah, didn’t he tell you? He’s been talking about it all day.” Sunghoon said it so casually, but his words felt like a punch to your chest.

No. Riki hadn’t told you anything. And now that you thought about it, he’d been distant recently, skipping out on plans and barely texting back. But to go on a date and not even mention it? That wasn’t like him at all. A strange feeling bubbled in your chest—was it anxiety or something else entirely?

“Oh. I guess we should just go then,” you murmured, brushing past Sunghoon, who quickly followed after you.

It stayed like that for weeks. Riki kept avoiding you, making himself scarce. He didn’t leave snacks on your desk anymore, didn’t visit you in the library, and the only time you caught glimpses of him was when he was with her. That girl in his friend group—except now, his arm was around her shoulder.

Something about seeing them together twisted your stomach into knots. You couldn’t figure out what was going on. The absence of Nishimura Riki was a void you weren’t coping with well. You missed his annoying presence, his whining, his endless teasing. When had he become so important to you? And more importantly, why did it hurt so much to see him with someone else?

Days passed, your short fling with Sunghoon had come to an end. You and Sunghoon realized you weren’t a good match. It wasn’t dramatic; the spark just wasn’t there. You were relieved to have gained a friend, but even that small resolution didn’t fill the aching gap that Riki had left behind.

One day, as you trudged toward class, your thoughts heavy, you spotted him. For a moment, everything else faded. His uniform was crisp for once, his hair falling perfectly across his forehead, and his headphones hung loosely around his neck. You felt your heart skip, a familiar warmth creeping in. But then you saw her—the girl. She was right next to him, laughing as she leaned closer.

Riki caught your eyes, and for a moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his expression. But then he looked away, a fake smile plastered back on his face, and it felt like someone had ripped the air out of your lungs.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The sudden, painful realization hit you like a truck—you had fallen for Nishimura Riki. The cocky, annoying, rude, childish Riki. And you had realized it far too late.

Fueled by a sense of urgency, you stormed over to him. The closer you got, the more his eyes widened. His body tensed, his jaw clenching as if he knew what was coming.

“Riki, I need to talk to you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

He scoffed, avoiding your gaze as he shifted awkwardly. “What could we possibly need to talk about?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you’ve been ignoring me for weeks? How about the fact that you’ve completely shut me out?”

He let out a bitter laugh, his eyes now locking with yours. “Me? Ignoring you? Don’t make me laugh. Weren’t you the one who ditched me first? The second Sunghoon gave you a little attention, you were all over him like he was your whole world.”

You flinched at the venom in his words. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb!” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’ve been desperate for attention since day one. The moment someone else gave it to you, you didn’t even think twice about ditching me.”

The words stung more than you thought possible, and tears welled in your eyes. “Is that how you really see me? Someone who just begs for love and clings to anyone willing to give it? Or is that what you wanted me to be? Someone who would never leave you, so you could string me along whenever you wanted? Like you always have?”

His eyes softened, regret flickering through them, but before he could respond, the girl at his side stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm.

“Alright ni-ki.. I get it now.” You took that as your cue. Turning on your heel, you walked away without looking back, tears blurring your vision.

He gulped as he watched you walk away, Itching to chase after you. He never thought the loss of his first name coming from your lips would hurt this much. But it did.

For the nights after that, sleep was impossible. You lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying the confrontation with Riki over and over in your head. His words, his tone, the hurt that lingered in his eyes despite the venom in his voice—it was all too much. The raw pain left a lump in your throat, and the longer you thought about it, the more your chest ached.

You didn’t know how to move past it. Slowly, you started closing yourself off. The window you always left unlocked for Riki to climb through at night? It was shut now, the latch sealed as if closing it would somehow lock away the memories too.

Everything was weighing on you, dragging you deeper into a pit of emotions you couldn’t escape from. You needed something—anything to distract yourself. That’s when you remembered Sunghoon’s message from earlier.

Sunghoon:

Hey I know parties aren’t really your thing, but you can always come and stick with me tonight if you want? LMK.

You sighed, staring at the screen for what felt like forever before finally making a decision. Maybe this was what you needed, a change of scenery, a chance to forget for just one night. Without overthinking, you hit the call button.

He answered almost immediately, his voice casual but with a hint of surprise. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?”

“Hey, Hoon,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

When you arrived at the party, the air was buzzing with energy. Music thumped loudly in the background, lights flickered through the windows, and the yard was packed with groups of people chatting and laughing. You felt a pang of anxiety as you stepped inside, but it was quickly drowned out when Sunghoon spotted you from across the room.

“Y/N!” he called, weaving through the crowd with a grin. “You made it.”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“I’m glad you came,” he said, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people, and we can hang out.”

He led you through the party, his presence grounding you as you met new faces and settled into the environment. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you felt yourself relaxing. Laughing. Forgetting.

But that peace was short-lived.

Halfway through the night, as you stood by the kitchen with Sunghoon, sipping on a red solo cup which he’d handed you, your eyes landed on someone you weren’t prepared to see. Riki.

He was standing on the far side of the room, a red Solo cup in hand, his face half-hidden by the shadowy lighting. But it was unmistakably him. His posture was relaxed, but he wasn’t speaking as his group of friends talked. You looked around for the girl he grasped onto recently but she was nowhere in sight.

Your chest tightened, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. For a moment, all the progress you’d made to distract yourself unraveled. You tried to look away, but it was like your eyes were glued to him.

Sunghoon noticed immediately. “Hey,” he said gently, stepping in front of you to block your view. “You okay?”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on him. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not at all.

Riki hadn’t noticed you at first, too caught up in the chaos of the party. But when he finally glanced toward the kitchen, his heart stopped. There you were, standing next to Sunghoon, looking beautiful in a way that made his chest ache.

His grip on his cup tightened as he watched Sunghoon lean closer, whispering something that made you laugh softly. That laugh. The one he hadn’t heard in weeks. It was his laugh, the one you used to share with him.

“ni-ki,” a girl next to him said, tugging on his sleeve to grab his attention. But he barely heard her, his focus still glued to you.

“Excuse me for a second,” he mumbled, setting his cup down and stepping away from his group. He didn’t even know what he was doing. His feet carried him across the room before his brain had the chance to catch up.

You saw him coming before he even reached you. The sight of him walking toward you, his expression unreadable, made your stomach twist. Sunghoon glanced over his shoulder and immediately stiffened.

“Y/N,” Riki said, his voice low but firm as he stopped in front of you. His gaze flickered to Sunghoon briefly before settling back on you. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, your walls immediately going up. “What is there to talk about, ni-ki?”

“Please,” he said, his tone softer now, almost desperate wincing at the way you spit his nickname.

Sunghoon stepped closer, his presence protective. “Maybe now isn’t the time, Riki.”

Riki’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I wasn’t asking you, Sunghoon.”

Your heart was racing, caught between the two of them. The tension in the air was suffocating, and you didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” Sunghoon finally said, his voice steady but his eyes lingering on you for reassurance before he walked off.

Riki took a step closer, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, your emotions a whirlwind. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he said quickly. “Just… listen. Please.”

And so, for the first time in weeks, you let him talk.

He led you up the stairs, weaving through the chaos of the party. The bass of the music faded the further you went, replaced by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. He stopped in front of an empty room, pushing the door open and letting you step inside first. The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window. When he followed, the soft click of the door shutting behind him felt heavier than it should have.

You turned to face him, crossing your arms defensively. Your guard was up, and he could see it all over your face—your hurt, your anger, your confusion. He hated that he was the one who put that look in your eyes. How had things gotten so messed up? It reminded him of when you were younger, back in middle school, when he could never find the right words to say to you. But this time, it felt like so much more was at stake.

“Y/N…” His voice was quiet, laced with hesitation, his dark eyes glowing softly under the light. “I haven’t been real with you lately.”

You didn’t say anything, your glare sharp enough to cut through him.

“To be honest…” He froze, the words catching in his throat as his face heated up. He looked down, running a hand through his hair as if it would steady him. “Well, I’ve realized that you mean… a lot more to me than I thought.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat, but your defenses didn’t falter. “What are you trying to say?”

He sighed, taking a tentative step closer. “I’m saying I screwed up, okay? I’ve been jealous, selfish, and downright stupid. Seeing you with Sunghoon, thinking I might lose you… it made me realize something.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting, your breath catching as he took another step closer.

“I like you, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his confession. “No, scratch that—I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I was too dumb to figure it out until I almost lost you.”

Your heart was pounding, the walls you’d built around yourself threatening to crumble. His words felt like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible.

“Why now?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why did it take all of this for you to say something?”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his tone filled with regret. “Scared of ruining what we already had. But when I saw you with him, I realized I couldn’t just stand by and lose you. I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just… I need you to know how I feel.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind. Part of you wanted to stay mad, to keep your guard up and protect yourself. But the other part—the part that had always been soft for him—wanted to believe every word he was saying.

“Riki,” you started, your voice trembling. “You really hurt me, you know that, right?”

He nodded, guilt washing over his face. “I know, and I’ll spend however long it takes making it up to you pretty. I swear.”

There was a long silence as you studied him, searching his face for any sign that he wasn’t being genuine. But all you saw was raw vulnerability.

Finally, you sighed, stepping closer to him. “You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, but there was no malice in your voice.

He smiled softly, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. “I’ve been told.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached up, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist as you stood on your toes, and then, without another word, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative, like the two of you were still testing the waters. But as the moment deepened, all the tension, all the weeks of hurt and miscommunication melted away. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and you let yourself fall into him completely.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathless. He smiled at you, his usual cocky grin softened by the tenderness in his eyes.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, the sound light and carefree, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Riki had known you since middle school. Back then, you were the girl who sat by the window during lunch, scribbling in your notebook or reading while everyone else was too busy trying to be cool. You were quiet but quick-witted, and for some reason, that always fascinated him.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he started noticing you more. Maybe it was the time you helped him with a history project because he procrastinated and would’ve failed without you, Maybe… It was the day you both ran into each other. Literally.

He hated admitting it, but he always found himself drawn to you. You weren’t flashy or loud like the other people in his life. You were just you—calm, focused, and, most of all, real.

But middle school Riki wasn’t great at handling feelings. Instead of being sweet to you, he’d tease you mercilessly, always looking for a reaction. He loved how your face would scrunch up when you were annoyed or how you’d mutter sarcastic comebacks under your breath, pretending you weren’t affected.

Even then, he knew you were different. Special. But he never let himself think too much about it.

As the years passed, his feelings only grew, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. By the time high school rolled around, you were still his constant. The one person he could always count on, the one who somehow understood him without needing a million words.

But somewhere along the way, he’d started feeling something heavier whenever he saw you. When you smiled at him, it felt like a spark ignited in his chest. When you scolded him for slacking off, he’d secretly enjoy the attention. And when you laughed—God, when you laughed—he swore it was his favorite sound in the world.

Still, he buried those feelings deep. He figured it was better to keep things the way they were. If he said something and you didn’t feel the same, he could lose you entirely, and the thought of that terrified him.

Then Sunghoon came into the picture. And for the first time, he realized he wasn’t the only one who could see how amazing you were. Watching you smile at someone else, laugh at someone else’s jokes, give someone else the attention that used to be his—it tore him apart. He felt like he was suffocating, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Even now, standing in that room with you after finally confessing everything, he couldn’t help but think back to all those moments from middle school. How blind had he been? How stupid to waste so much time pretending he didn’t care?

Looking at you now, your cheeks flushed, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to figure him out, he realized he didn’t want to hold back anymore.

He smiled, soft and genuine, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I think I’ve been falling for you since middle school. I just didn’t know how to say it back then. Guess I’m still figuring it out now.”

You blinked at him, stunned for a moment, before a small laugh escaped your lips. “You’ve been a mess since middle school, Riki.”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin growing wider. “But I’m your mess now.”

And with that, he kissed you again, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment, knowing he’d finally found where he belonged—right there, with you.

[theonottsbxtch]

SPORTS CAR | OP81

an: so far for the last t8 songs ive given them to lando, time to give our boy oscar some love. i cant promise im back for good, its exam season at the school im working at so busy busy busy but anyway enjoy this op81 piece

wc: 4k

THE GALA WAS THE SORT OF EVENT where champagne flowed endlessly, and the air was thick with the weight of old money. Oscar, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, leaned casually against the bar, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The soft strains of classical music filled the grand hall, but his attention wasn’t on the string quartet or the ridiculously expensive artwork on the walls. It was on her.

She glided through the crowd as though she owned the place—because, in a way, she did. Her gown, a shimmering cascade of silver, caught the light with every deliberate step she took, and her smile was just shy of predatory. She was the kind of woman who never had to hear the word “no,” a little princess who always got exactly what she wanted. And tonight, it was clear that what she wanted was him.

Oscar swirled the amber liquid in his glass, suppressing the smirk threatening to spread across his face. He recognised that look—had seen it on her at least twice tonight when their gazes met from across the room. It was bold, unrelenting, and entirely unapologetic. She didn’t just want him; she wanted to make sure he knew it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Her voice broke through the small space between them as she appeared beside him at the bar. Her perfume—a heady mix of jasmine and something darker—wrapped around him as she leaned in, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin.

Oscar glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “As much as one can at an event like this.”

She laughed softly, the sound smooth and syrupy. “A man with all the toys in the world, bored at a gala? I thought you’d be used to this sort of thing by now.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it,” he replied, setting his glass down and turning to face her fully. His dark eyes flicked to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. “What about you? Enjoying holding court?”

Her smile widened, a little wicked now. “The only fun I’m planning on having tonight isn’t going to be on the dance floor.” She tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping lower, meant only for him. “You brought one of your cars, didn’t you?”

Oscar’s smirk finally broke through. “I might’ve. Why?”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing the lapel of his tuxedo, and tilted her head as though her question was entirely innocent. “Because I’ve always wondered what the fuss is about. The leather seats, the thrill of it all... You should show me.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, leaning in just enough for her breath to catch. “You think you can handle that, princess?”

Her eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and challenge. “Why don’t you take me for a spin and find out?”

Oscar shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him as he leaned back slightly. “Your dad would kill me,” he said, his tone light but edged with something darker.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “He doesn’t need to find out,” she murmured, her voice smooth as silk.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully. She was bold—too bold for her own good—and she knew it. “You’re not exactly the subtle type,” he pointed out, his tone laced with amusement.

She shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Subtlety is overrated. Besides, you’re clever. You’d figure something out.” She stepped closer, her fingers grazing the cuff of his sleeve, feather-light. “Unless you’re scared, of course.”

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Scared? Of you?” His gaze flicked down to her hand before returning to her eyes, dark and steady. “You don’t scare me, princess.”

“Good,” she said simply, her voice soft but laced with that same unshakable confidence. “Because I’m not leaving here tonight without what I want.”

Her words hung in the air between them, the weight of her challenge impossible to ignore. Oscar let the silence stretch for a moment, his eyes locked on hers, weighing up the consequences. He could already feel the heat of her expectation, the daring glint in her gaze that made it clear she wasn’t bluffing.

Finally, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Her smile widened, shamelessly triumphant. “Always.”

He exhaled, shaking his head again as though he were trying to convince himself he wasn’t about to make a very stupid decision. But the way she was looking at him—like he was a prize she’d already claimed—made it impossible to resist.

“Fine,” he said at last, his voice a low rumble. “Meet me out front in five minutes. Don’t make me regret this.”

She didn’t respond, only grinned as she stepped back, smoothing the skirt of her gown as if nothing had happened. “You won’t,” she said, her tone light and breezy, as if they weren’t on the brink of scandal.

With one last look over her shoulder, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Oscar standing there, shaking his head and wondering just how far he was about to let this go.

The air outside the gala was cool, the faint hum of engines and distant chatter filling the night. She stood near the grand entrance, the shimmer of her gown catching the soft glow of the streetlights. A few partygoers lingered around her, but she didn’t pay them any attention. Her focus was on the sleek McLaren pulling up to the curb, its low, aggressive stance impossible to ignore.

Oscar was behind the wheel of the dark grey 765LT Spider, its polished finish gleaming like liquid metal under the lights. The car exuded power and precision, its growl unmistakable even in neutral. As the passenger door lifted upwards, Oscar leaned over slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and steady.

She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she slid into the seat. The leather interior cocooned her, the faint smell of luxury and petrol filling her senses. With the door closing seamlessly behind her, Oscar revved the engine once before pulling away from the gala, leaving the murmurs of curious onlookers behind.

The streets of Monaco unfurled ahead of them, glittering like a dream. The McLaren hugged the curves effortlessly as Oscar navigated the winding roads, the sound of the engine echoing off the buildings and cliffs. The city lights reflected in the water, casting a golden hue over everything, and the occasional roar of other supercars in the distance only added to the energy of the night.

She leaned back in her seat, her head tilted slightly as she watched him. He looked completely at ease, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift. His focus was sharp, the faint glow of the dashboard illuminating his sharp features.

“No girlfriend with you tonight?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft hum of the engine.

Oscar’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Don’t have one,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Why?”

He glanced at her briefly, his dark eyes filled with quiet amusement. “Why do you think?”

She turned slightly in her seat, her smile coy. “Don’t you think it’s time to change that?”

Oscar’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, the words hanging in the air between them. For a moment, the only sound was the steady purr of the McLaren as they sped along the coastline. Then, as if making a split-second decision, he downshifted and pulled the car off the road, steering into a quiet lookout point overlooking the sparkling bay below.

The engine rumbled to a stop, leaving the world in near silence save for the distant waves crashing against the shore. Oscar turned to her, his dark eyes unreadable, the weight of her words still lingering.

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he murmured, his voice low and thick with something she couldn’t quite place.

Her smile didn’t waver. “Why would I, when I’m getting exactly what I want?”

For a moment, he just stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without another word, he leaned in, one hand reaching up to cup her jaw as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss was electric, heated and unapologetic, the kind of kiss that left no room for second guesses.

She responded instantly, her fingers tangling in the lapels of his jacket as she pulled him closer. The cool leather of the seat beneath her was a stark contrast to the heat radiating between them, their breaths mingling as the kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, both of them slightly breathless, she grinned up at him, her confidence as unshakable as ever.

“Told you I’d get what I wanted,” she murmured.

Oscar let out a low laugh, shaking his head as his thumb brushed against her cheek. “You’re going to ruin me, princess.”

She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over his. “You’ll survive.”

Oscar’s gaze lingered on her, his lips still tingling from their kiss. He leaned in again, his hand slipping to her waist as his breath ghosted over her lips, but just as he closed the distance, she pulled back.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she settled against the seat, her smile playful yet maddeningly smug. “Patience,” she whispered, her tone dripping with teasing sweetness. “What’s the rush?”

Oscar narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening slightly. “You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

“Am I?” she said, tilting her head, her fingers tracing the edge of her seatbelt as though she hadn’t just pulled away from him. “Or am I just keeping you on your toes?”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though there was a dangerous edge to it now. “You like playing games, don’t you?”

Before she could respond, Oscar reached out, his hand tangling in her hair with surprising firmness. The suddenness of it made her breath hitch, her teasing smile faltering for the first time. He pulled her towards him, his grip gentle but commanding, and the shift in his energy sent a spark of heat straight through her.

“You forget,” he murmured, his voice a low growl against her ear, “I don’t like to lose.”

And then he kissed her, harder this time, with none of the hesitation from before. It was all hunger and heat, his lips claiming hers as though he was determined to remind her who was in control. She didn’t resist—in fact, the soft sound that escaped her as he deepened the kiss made it clear she wasn’t protesting at all.

Without breaking the kiss, Oscar shifted her effortlessly. His hands gripped her waist as he pulled her onto his lap, her gown gathering around her as she straddled him. The space in the McLaren was tight, but neither of them seemed to care. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching at his shirt as she kissed him back with equal fervour, her earlier teasing entirely abandoned.

Oscar’s hand moved from her hair to the curve of her back, holding her close as their lips moved in sync, the heat between them building with every second. Her perfume wrapped around him, intoxicating, and the soft hum of her breathing against his skin only made him want more.

When they finally broke apart, her lips were swollen, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. She looked down at him, her composure shaken but her eyes still alight with that same daring spark.

“You’re full of surprises,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

Oscar smirked, his hand still resting on her back as he looked up at her. “And you’re full of trouble,” he countered, his voice low and gravelly. “But I don’t mind.”

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as she leaned in again, her lips hovering just inches from his. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Oscar’s hand lingered on her back as he leaned back slightly, his smirk firmly in place. “We should probably head back before someone notices we’re gone,” he said, though the heat in his voice made it clear he wasn’t entirely committed to the idea.

She tilted her head, her fingers tracing along the edge of his collar. “Fine,” she said, her tone soft but full of something mischievous. Then she added, “But can I drive?”

Oscar blinked, surprised, before letting out a low chuckle. “Drive?” He raised a brow, glancing around the interior of the McLaren. “You want to drive this?”

“Why not?” she teased, sliding off his lap into her seat while adjusting her gown. Her hand brushed along the leather of the steering wheel as she looked at him with a grin. “What, don’t think I can handle it?”

He hesitated for a moment. Letting someone else—especially her—behind the wheel of his prized McLaren felt like madness. But there was something about the way she looked at him, that mix of challenge and confidence, that made it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice low and measured. “But if you so much as scratch it—”

She laughed, cutting him off as she opened her door ready to claim her seat. “Relax, Oscar. I know how to handle expensive toys.”

He climbed into the passenger seat, watching as she adjusted the seat and placed her hands on the wheel with a kind of natural ease that caught him off guard. She turned the key, and the car roared back to life, purring under her control.

“Careful,” he muttered as she pulled out of the lookout point, her silver gown shimmering in the glow of the dashboard.

But careful wasn’t really her style.

The McLaren glided through the winding streets of Monaco, her movements smooth and deliberate. She drove with the kind of confidence that made it impossible not to watch her—one hand on the wheel, the other shifting gears effortlessly. Her gaze was sharp, focused, but there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Oscar leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on her. There was something undeniably hot about watching her handle the car. The way her fingers gripped the wheel, the slight tilt of her head as she navigated the sharp turns, the soft hum of concentration she made under her breath—it was intoxicating.

His jaw tightened as he shifted in his seat, trying to focus on anything other than the growing heat building inside him. “You’re enjoying this a little too much,” he muttered.

She glanced at him briefly, her smile widening. “What, you don’t think I’m doing a good job?”

“You’re doing fine,” he admitted grudgingly, though his tone betrayed just how much more he was thinking.

But instead of heading back to the gala, she veered off, turning down a quieter road that led toward the waterfront. Oscar frowned, sitting up slightly.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

She didn’t answer immediately, her smile remaining as she continued to drive. The glow of the city faded slightly as she pulled into the circular drive of a luxury hotel, its grand façade glittering under the night sky.

She parked smoothly, turning off the engine before looking over at him with that same maddeningly smug expression. “Thought we could use a change of scenery,” she said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Oscar stared at her, caught somewhere between annoyance and intrigue. “You know, this wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

She leaned back in her seat, one hand still resting on the wheel, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Since when do you strike me as a man who follows a plan?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the sight of her—smug, gorgeous, completely in control—had him swallowing his words. There was no denying it: watching her drive his car, taking charge like that, had done something to him.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with something more than frustration.

Her grin widened, her confidence unwavering as she leaned towards him slightly. “And you love it.”

For a moment, he just looked at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without a word, he leaned in, his hand gripping her jaw as he kissed her again, this time with more intensity than before.

Oscar was just starting to lose himself in the kiss when she abruptly pulled away, leaving him momentarily stunned. She smirked at him, her confidence maddeningly intact, and reached for the car door.

“Wait—what are you doing?” he asked, still catching his breath.

But she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped out of the McLaren, smoothing her gown as if nothing had happened. Before he could process what was going on, she tossed the car keys to the valet standing nearby. The poor man fumbled but managed to catch them, staring wide-eyed at the sleek car she’d just stepped out of.

“Take care of it,” she said breezily, her tone one of casual authority.

Oscar remained in the passenger seat, stunned. He wasn’t used to people taking charge—especially not with his car—but somehow, the way she did it was effortlessly sexy. She didn’t even glance back at him as she strode toward the grand entrance of the hotel, the soft click of her heels against the pavement leaving him momentarily frozen.

It wasn’t until the valet awkwardly cleared his throat that Oscar snapped out of it. He scrambled out of the car, muttering, “Don’t scratch it,” before hurrying after her.

By the time he reached the hotel lobby, she was already stepping into the lift, her silver gown shimmering under the chandelier’s light. The lift doors were beginning to close, and for a second, he thought she might leave him behind. But just as the gap narrowed, her gaze met his, and she pressed the button to hold the doors.

Oscar stepped in, his breathing slightly uneven—not from the chase, but from the way she was looking at him, all challenge and heat.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and rough.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “You’re the one who followed me.”

The doors slid shut, sealing them inside. The moment they were alone, the tension between them became unbearable. The soft hum of the lift seemed deafening in the silence as Oscar took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and desire.

Her smile widened, her confidence as infuriating as it was intoxicating. “Good,” she whispered.

That was all it took.

Oscar closed the distance in an instant, backing her against the wall of the lift as his lips found hers again. This time, there was no hesitation, no space for games. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her deeply, his frustration pouring into every movement.

She responded with equal fervour, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, her back pressing against the cold metal of the lift wall. The contrast between the chill of the wall and the heat of his touch sent shivers through her, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she pushed closer, her body arching into his.

Oscar’s hand slid to the small of her back, holding her firmly in place as his lips moved to her jaw, then down to the curve of her neck. Her breath hitched, and he felt the slight tremor that ran through her.

“Still want to play games?” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low growl.

She let out a soft laugh, her nails grazing the back of his neck as she tilted her head to give him more access. “Only if I keep winning,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes smouldering. “Not this time.”

Before she could respond, he captured her lips again, silencing whatever quip she was about to throw at him. The kiss was fiery, intense, and left no room for second-guessing. The soft chime of the lift was barely a blip in the haze of their heated embrace. By the time the doors slid open, neither of them made any move to stop. Oscar’s lips were still locked on hers, his hands gripping her waist as though letting go wasn’t an option. She tugged him forward, their steps hurried and uncoordinated as they stumbled out of the lift.

“Which one?” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick and breathless.

She broke the kiss just long enough to motion toward the double doors at the end of the corridor. “Penthouse,” she whispered, her tone teasing but drenched with desire.

Oscar didn’t need more instruction. His hand found hers as they hurried toward the doors, her soft laughter echoing in the hallway as they fumbled to get inside. She reached into her clutch, pulling out the key card and sliding it through the reader with a practiced flick of her wrist. The lock clicked, and before the door could even swing fully open, Oscar had her pinned against the frame, his mouth crashing onto hers again.

She gasped against his lips, her hands finding their way under his jacket, fingers splaying against the hard lines of his chest. He pushed her through the doorway, their movements clumsy but urgent, and the door slammed shut behind them with a soft thud.

The suite was breathtaking, all glittering chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of Monaco’s sparkling coastline. But neither of them paid it any mind. She walked him backward toward the plush sofa in the centre of the room, her lips never leaving his.

His hands roamed her body with a possessive hunger, sliding down her back to the curve of her hips. The silky fabric of her gown was smooth beneath his fingertips, but he was already imagining what was underneath. His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, then to the delicate column of her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her that made his blood run hotter.

Her own hands were equally adventurous, pushing his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. She tugged at the buttons of his shirt, her impatience making quick work of them as she revealed the toned muscles beneath.

“Impressive,” she murmured, her voice teasing but shaky with anticipation.

Oscar smirked against her skin, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”

Her laugh was cut short by the way his hands gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly as he flipped her toward the sofa. She let out a breathless gasp as he set her down on the edge, his body immediately pressing against hers. His hand trailed up her bare thigh, pushing the slit of her gown further aside as his lips found hers again.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as she pulled him closer, her own control slipping with every passing second. His other hand travelled south, his touch firm yet teasing as it inched along her skin, setting her nerves alight.

“Still feeling in charge?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough.

Her response was a soft moan, her head falling back against the cushion as he kissed a line down her neck, his hand exploring further. The sound of her breaths, quick and shallow, filled the air between them, mingling with the faint hum of the city outside.

He smirked, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. “That’s what I thought.”

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[bring-forth-his-sac]

Not sure if this is too far but maybe some dads best friend mixed in with close calls and very rough stuff if ya know what I mean 😏

Stained

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Tags:  rough sex, degrading name calling (slut), mentions of a facial, cheating (soz Lucille), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, semi-public sex

It happened again.

By now, Negan knows the routine. Argue. Say shit neither one of them can take back. Lucille kicks him out or else Negan reaches his limit and storms out. Make up later. It’s their pattern.

But tonight is different. 

They were supposed to go to a friend’s house for dinner, which threw a wrench in their usual routine. A part of Negan still wanted to go. Sure, he dreaded the tension-filled conversation, Lucille throwing in her usual passive-aggressive digs, but there was a silver lining: he could vent afterward. He needed to. To someone who’d actually get it, without the sugar-coating.

Negan has been friends with your dad for years, long enough to know they could trade a few sharp words and move on without it turning into some dramatic scene. Sometimes, Negan could really use that kind of blunt, no-nonsense talk with another guy. 

But hell, he wouldn’t mind shooting the shit with you either. You always got his humor and honestly, you were the only one who could make him laugh without trying so damn hard.

Instead of your home, he finds himself at a bar. Lucille was quick to call dibs on going solo to your parents house, not wanting to deal with Negan in front of friends. 

He left without another word, driving to the local watering hole like a man on a mission.

The bar is the usual kind of dimly lit place that doesn't ask questions. Negan doesn’t need questions tonight. What he needs is a drink and a distraction.

He settles onto a chair by the bartop and orders a whiskey, the burn of it going down smoother than he expected.

Lucille’s parting words echo in his head, the sharpness of her dismissal stinging all over again. The way she had shut him down so easily, almost like telling off a child. Negan can feel the frustration creeping back in. He could’ve used a laugh tonight but instead, he’s stuck here. 

Alone, as usual.

On a typical night, Negan hates how quiet the bar is. He can’t stand silences, everything about it gets on his nerves. The patrons are too tight to even cough up a quarter to play a song on the jukebox. It always feels like the kind of place where the air is thick with nothingness and every minute stretches on longer than the last.

Negan doesn’t have the luxury to brood over that on this particular night. Instead, the loud chattering of a group of girls fills the bar, cutting through the silence like a chainsaw.

Just a handful of them crowd around a table, all bright-eyed and wide smiles, laughing as though the weight of the world hasn’t yet found them.

His brow furrows as he watches them out of the corner of his eye. They’re not doing anything wrong but the racket they’re making feels invasive in the normally subdued space. 

Every time they laugh, the sound hits him like a hammer to his skull, ringing in his ears. It’s like a constant, steady hum of disruption. Negan can appreciate a little noise and some new life in the place, but tonight?

Tonight, it’s too much. It’s frustrating him. He takes another swig of his whiskey but it doesn’t quite block out their high-pitched, frantic laughter. 

One of the girls spills a drink, and the others burst into a fresh round of giggles, the kind that seems to echo through the entire room. 

He’s about to look away when another girl quickly picks up the drink and continues to say something. She's sitting across from the others, leaning forward and talking animatedly, her hands flying through the air with each word. 

One of her hands subtly goes to her thigh and she tries to discreetly yank down her dress. 

Negan wonders if women know they don’t need to wear tight mini dresses or the crop tops to get laid. But he supposes that’s the joy of being a  youngster. They do stupid shit, wear stupid shit, drink stupid shit. Some grow out of it while others still say stupid shit and end up drinking alone at a bar.

His eyes flicker over her figure. Negan can’t see her face, the angle of her head and the way her body is half-turned away from him hides it. 

Negan doesn’t mind. He can still appreciate her thighs and the curve of her ass from his seat at the bar. Her hair and back covers most of her upper body too so Negan can’t appreciate any titty action just yet.

His fingers drum against the bar and he catches himself, realizing that he’s staring. He quickly looks away, taking another drink of his whiskey as if the liquid will wash away whatever was just stirred up inside him.

In a way, Negan’s glad you’re not like that. You’re pretty without all the extra shit. Since elementary school, you've never been the type to crave attention or stand out in a crowd. Yet you're not the kind of introvert who keeps completely to yourself either.

You fall somewhere in the middle, comfortable with who you are without needing to put on a show for anyone.

There’s been plenty of times you’ve been the most entertaining thing to Negan at your parent’s dinner parties. He loves the witty remarks you toss his way and how you both quietly poke fun at the evening while the others remain oblivious. Those little moments are the highlight of his night.

But, of course, there are also those other times. When a careless comment from your father or mother hits a nerve and you retreat into yourself, disappearing into the background. Negan can always tell when that happens; the sharpness in your eyes dulls and the sarcastic remarks you usually offer him vanish. 

He wonders if you’ll be disappointed tonight, when it’s only Lucille who arrives for dinner. You make the dinners bearable for him but surely you reciprocate that feeling. Both of you are as thick as thieves in your own subtle way.

The woman he’s been checking out stands, saying one more quick thing to her friends before she turns and heads for the bar.

Maybe it’s because you’re already clouding his thoughts that seeing you in person hits him even harder. He’s imagined you a thousand times, with your quiet demeanor and the casual clothes you wear that make you almost invisible.

The mental image of you is so vivid, it’s like you’ve been etched into his mind… yet here you are, so different than that.

You do the same action that you did earlier, yanking down the end of your dress as it threatens to ride up your thigh. Negan lets out a gulp, not sure how he feels at the fact that he’s been checking out his friend’s daughter.

Turning back to say something to your friends, you let out a laugh as you clog along in your high heels to the bar. 

This is exactly what you needed. A night away from all your worries and stresses… and your parents. 

Besides, you're an adult now. You’re allowed to have fun! Whether that be crazy golf, drinking until you need your stomach pumped or smoking whatever. No matter how much guilt or pressure your parents try to put on you, tonight is yours. You’re no longer bound by their expectations. You can take a break from being the person they want you to be and just be.

Maybe that’s why the words “Lydia found out her boyfriend cheated so everyone was going to go over to hers and cheer her up!” came out of your mouth when you told your parents you couldn’t stay for dinner instead of “We all want to go out and down tequila shots!”.

Whether your actual reasoning would’ve worked or not, it doesn’t matter because they let you out with no more than a remorseful look as you left to help your heartbroken friend.

“Get more salt sachets!” a giddy Lydia calls out as you clip-clop up to the bar. 

You’re so caught up in your own little bubble of excitement that you barely notice the guy at the bar. You wait beside him, leaning on the counter and waiting until the bartender comes over. When you feel his eyes linger, you glance his way, wondering if you’ve found some fun for the night. 

You look over, pre-emptively batting your eyes lashes everything seems to slow down. There, standing just a few inches away, is Negan. Your dad’s friend. 

You freeze for a moment, excuses caught in your throat, as you realize that it’s not just the familiarity of his face that’s throwing you off. It’s the way he's looking at you. Negan’s expression is unreadable but the way his gaze lingers has a weight that catches you off guard.

You try to swallow the sudden lump in your throat. What is he thinking? How long has he been standing there? And why, of all people, did it have to be him?

You hate it. On one hand, you want to ignore him. Maybe give him a nod of acknowledgment before pretending like you’re not in front of someone you’ve known since you were a kid. 

But on the other hand, you know what Negan’s like and the last thing you want is for him to loudly draw attention to your… friendship? 

Ushering yourself closer, you hurriedly whisper “What are you doing here?!”.

Negan struggles to maintain his composure, forcing himself to keep his eyes on your face instead of letting them wander. 

“What am I doing here?” His jaw clenches as if readying himself to barrage you with questions “What are you doing here, dressed like that? Are you drunk? Do your parents know you’re here? I swear….”.

You scoff defensively, glancing down at the glass of whiskey in front of him. “Oh so I can’t go out with friends but you’re allowed to drown your sorrows?”.

Negan doesn’t even entertain your question, immediately waving it off. “That’s not the damn point,” he hisses “I’m not the one with my tits out and stumbling around a bar!”. 

He shoots some other patrons a glare as they try to eavesdrop, making sure they keep their eyes to themselves. You gasp, putting a hand on your chest. Maybe your dress is a lower cut than what you’d usually wear but your boobs aren’t about to pop out of the thing!

“You— you can’t talk to me like that!” despite how your face flushes, you stand your ground. You’ve always known Negan to be raunchy but not once has he ever spoken to you like this before.

"Can't talk to you like what?” Negan doesn’t give you the time to ponder that rhetorical question, crossing his arms as he continues to lecture you.

“You think you look appropriate right now? You think your parents would approve of this outfit?" his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I’m out with friends, not at dinner with my parents!” You defend, deciding to add in your own jab “Besides, I thought you were at theirs tonight, having dinner with Lucille… not drinking alone”.

Negan can’t keep still. He’s too antsy, wanting to shake some sense into you but trying to stay cool in public.

With an elbow propped up on the bar, Negan points a finger at you “Watch it, before I haul your ass outta here”.

This is the closest you’ve ever seen Negan to real anger. Whenever he’s been at your house, it’s always been the aftermath of it you’ve witnessed. His sullen mood and Lucille’s small comments at him whenever the conversation allowed; both of them handling their simmering frustration in their own way. 

To not only witness his anger first hand, but to have it directed at you… you’re not sure if you want to pout or get on your knees right then and there.

You scoff, trying to seem unbothered. “Enjoy your drink, I’m going back to my friends,” you say it with just enough sass, turning to retreat back to your table.

You know it’s a pointless endeavour. 

Negan won’t allow it. And you know it.

His hand snakes around your upper arm, his grip firm but not painful. "Oh no you don't,” he tugs you back, urging you to face him again “we’re leaving. Now”.

You were hoping for a little more time here, a bit more back-and-forth, rile him up before hopefully breaking down those stubborn walls. 

“You can leave, but I’m not!” you snap, digging your heels in.

He leans in close, his anger flaring back to life as his voice drops into a dangerously low growl. “I’m not asking you, sweetheart, I’m telling you” the pet name slips out like a command, making something tighten in your chest. 

“You’re drunk, you’re dressed like a goddamn slut and you’re not staying in this bar another second”.

Is it bad you can feel the heat between your legs as he degrades you? How is it your dad’s friend, someone you kinda considered your own friend too, is calling you a slut so easily? And why does he keep trying to steal quick glances at your chest?

Heh, well, you know the answer to that last question.

Still, you play your part and you slap his arm. “Don’t call me that! Jackass” you say with a defiant huff.

His eyes widen but Negan doesn’t acknowledge the slap in the way you wanted him to. Instead of continuing to bicker, he grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and throws it on, his movements sharp. 

“Jackass?” he repeats, clearly not amused.

“Yes! You’re acting like a major jackass!” you fire back, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in your voice. 

Negan grins, that mocking, almost wicked smile spreading across his face as steers you away from the bar.

“Yeah, and you know what else I am?” he asks “The one dragging your drunk, barely dressed ass out of this bar before you make a complete fool of yourself”.

He starts tugging you toward the exit. “I had like… two drinks!” you protest, stumbling slightly to keep up.

But just as he’s about to drag you out the door, you use all the momentum you have to shove him into the door right next to the exit. 

The ladies toilets. 

Your friends giggle as you both disappear from sight, assuming you’re hooking up with the stranger. They’ve always known you have a thing for older men but little do they know who he really is…

Negan stumbles into the bathroom, his mind still trying to process how he went from the exit to somehow ending up in here instead. His brow furrows as he takes in the situation.

Before he can say a word, you speak, your voice steady but firm “Negan, I’m not leaving”.

He steps closer “Yes. You. Are. We’re leaving. Right. Now”. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you’re already one step ahead. You sidestep him, narrowly avoiding his grip.

“No!” you exclaim, more forcefully than you intended. Hoping to get through to him, you soften your tone, offering a sliver of vulnerability. “My parents don’t know I’m here… they think I’m just at a friend’s place” you admit.

Your words hang in the air, a soft confession of rebellion. But Negan’s response is as expected—he rolls his eyes, the action exaggerated as if he’s heard this excuse a thousand times before. 

“I don’t give a fuck if your parents ground you for a year!” He snaps, his voice low but intense “You’re not staying here dressed like that and acting like this”.

“Acting like what? Having fun?”.

His jaw clenches. “By acting like you’re only worth a quick fuck in the backseat of someone’s car,” Negan replies, the words carrying a weight that makes your stomach sink.

The insult stings, but you refuse to back down. With a small scoff, you shake your head and tilt your chin up slightly. “You’re telling me you didn’t do that when you were young?” you challenge.

Negan’s expression falters for a split second, his lips twitching as if he’s about to crack a grin but he maintains his steely expression. 

He exhales sharply through his nose, his stance stiffening. “I did it because I’m a guy,” he mutters, his tone clipped “so it’s different”.

“That’s misogynist,” you point out as you cross your arms, unintentionally making your cleavage more noticeable.

For a moment, you catch Negan’s gaze flickering downward before snapping back up to your eyes, his face strained. 

His lips press together in a tight line, his eyes briefly closing in frustration as he fights to maintain his composure. “Fuck, can you just…” Negan gestures vaguely at you “Cover up or something?”.

Without waiting for an answer, Negan turns away, running a hand through his dark locks. 

You let out a quiet sigh. “I didn’t bring a jacket,” you say flatly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

He mutters something under his breath, too quiet for you to catch. With a dramatic huff, he whips off his leather jacket. “Of course you didn’t. On top of everything else, you want to get hypothermia too” His voice drips with exasperation.

Negan turns back to you, holding out the jacket, his eyes briefly look to your chest again before quickly darting back to your face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You catch the slight pause, the way his gaze betrays him, but you choose not to acknowledge it— at least, not directly. You stare him down, not hiding the smirk plastered on your face. Then, in one swift movement, he practically hurls the jacket at you. 

“Here,” he says, the word a little too resigned.

Instinctively, you catch the jacket, but you don’t put it on. Instead, you hold it in your arms, letting it drape over them as you roll your eyes at his comments. 

“I’m not some delicate little flower,” you tease, your smirk becoming playful “maybe I like it rough”.

The words slip out without thinking, a little too flippantly, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

Maybe those two drinks were enough to get you tipsy after all.

Negan’s eyes narrow at you and you can see the gears turning in his head. There’s a flicker of something in his expression. Maybe amusement, maybe disbelief, but before he can say anything, you catch the faintest hint of a smirk forming on his lips.

He steps closer, his imposing frame shadowing you as he leans in. “Damn, you’re something else,” he says, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the overwhelming presence he has, but for the first time tonight, you feel a small shiver run up your spine. 

“Rough, huh?” His words are like a threat, his tone smooth and dangerous.

Before you can respond, his hand shoots out, and suddenly, he has a firm grip on your hair, tugging it just enough to pull your head back. 

“Ow! Negan!!” You whine, your voice a mix of surprise and irritation. Good job at proving you like it rough.

He loosens his grip, but his fingers stay tangled in your hair, holding you captive in his gaze. He stares down at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You think I don’t notice how gorgeous you are?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost possessive “But this? Telling me you like it rough? Tsk, tsk, tsk”. 

Your heart skips a beat at the admission, and your eyes widen ever so slightly. The words settle in your chest, warm and electric, and for a split second, everything else fades away. 

Negan thinks you’re gorgeous. 

You can barely process it but you don’t get a chance to let the moment settle. His fingers tighten in your hair again, this time with purpose. 

“There’s a difference,” he growls, his voice rougher now, “between making eyes at some random guy at a bar and teasing a man who actually knows what to do with you”.

You swallow hard. His grip on you, the way he towers over you, his scent— all of it feels like a pressure you can’t escape. You can barely breathe.

“And you…” You pause, testing the waters “You know what to do with me?”.

And then, possibly the most un-hot thing happens. A toilet flushes. The sound is loud and sudden, causing you both to freeze. It comes from one of the stalls at the end of the room and it’s quickly followed by the drunken shuffling of feet and a zipping noise. 

Without a word, you and Negan lock eyes, an unspoken agreement passing between you in that single, charged moment. 

“Shit,” Negan mutters under his breath, his hand still tangled in your hair, but now pulling you toward the nearest empty cubicle with urgency. 

“Ouch!” you whisper, batting at his hand and making him untangle his hand from your hair. You barely have time to shoot him a glare before he’s guiding you into the small space, his body close behind you.

Just as the cubicle at the end of the room unlocks, the lock to your cramped cubicle slots into place with a soft click.

For a moment, you both hold your breath. You’re pressed together in the cramped space, his chest against your back, your bodies flush together.

You hear the drunken patron stumble, mumbling something unintelligible as they turn on one of the taps and start washing their hands. You both hold still, waiting for the heavy footsteps to move away. Negan holds you against him, one hand on your waist to keep you close. 

Although that’s not the only thing that’s touching you. 

It’s hard not to notice the unmistakable press of his semi-erect cock nestling against the curve of your ass. It feels firm yet pliant, a promise of things to come. 

Turning your head just enough to look up at him through your eyelashes. He doesn’t meet your gaze, too busy zoning into some spot in the stall door as he listens intently to the patron outside.

His brow furrows just slightly, the lines on his forehead deepening as he focuses. You can tell he's strategizing, weighing up different excuses in case he’s caught in the ladies room. Negan’s lips are pressed together, a slight tension around them, but it's not a scowl. 

Deciding you want some attention, you press your ass back slightly. You hear a grunt.

“You’re not making this easy on me,” he huffs. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he looks down.

Through the thin walls, you can hear the drunk go on their way, their footsteps slowly fading as they stagger out of the bathroom. The door swings shut with a final, echoing creak. 

As if to prove his point, Negan moves his hips forward, forcing his erection against your ass. He’s harder than you thought and you shudder at the mere size of the thing in his pants. 

He makes a quiet, pleased sound against your ear as his hand trails up your waist, teasing passing the side of your breast before settling on the back of your neck. 

“Fuck, you're responsive…” He pulls back slightly, making sure you can still feel him.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask softly.

He chuckles, his voice low and husky. “It's a dangerous thing, darlin,” he squeezes your neck teasingly “Nothing good ever comes from being too responsive... unless you're trying to drive a man wild”.

“Maybe that’s exactly why I’m trying to do” you push back against him again, this time bending your body slightly to really accentuate your ass.

Except all that does is encourage your dress to ride up your thighs again, stopping just before your ass. Grabbing his leather jacket from your arms, Negan tosses it up on the stall door before moving to your thighs.

Negan isn’t a one to waste time, especially when it comes to taking advantage of certain situations. Bringing both hands down to your thighs, he helps you dress by tugging it up in one swift movement. You let out a gasp as the cool, thankfully air conditioned bathroom making the skin on your ass get goosebumps.

“Negan! I-“ you move to turn away so he can’t see your ass but Negan’s one step ahead this time.

 Looping an arm around your torso, he makes sure you keep the squirming to a minimum. With his other hand, he brings it down between your legs and presses a finger against your panties.

He holds you in place, bent at the hips and ass against his crotch. You can feel the dampness of your panties against your heat. The wetness seeps into the fabric, making it stick to the lips of your pussy. 

“Fuck me, you are soaked!” with no qualms about modesty, Negan swipes the tacky panties to the side and gets a feel of your folds himself. 

You stop a moan from escaping, not wanting to be too eager. "Goddamn, you're a sticky little mess, ain't ya? All wet and sloppy, just fucking dripping” he teases your hole, momentarily pressing a finger to it but never dipping inside.

Hoping to gain some control, you go to stand up straight. The thoughts of looking into his eyes as he fingers you is more appealing than your view being the wall of a bathroom stall.

But Negan isn’t as fond of the idea. The arm looped around you quickly makes its way to your back, forcing you to stay bent. You let out a scoff as the side of your face smushes against the wall. 

“Negan, what the fuck?” You whine, blindly throwing one of your arms back at him “If you’re gonna finger me, at least let me enjoy it!”.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabs your arm and presses it against your back, restraining you before he continues his exploration of your pussy “I get to decide how the fuck we do this”.

You quieten down when you feel a finger trace your folds, spreading your wetness around. “You this much of a slut for every guy or am I just lucky?” He asks, chuckling at his own thoughts “Your friends were cheering like this is a usual thing for you”.

Before you can reply, Negan plunges two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, his thumb grinding against your clit. “I— ah!” You mewl, trying to give a coherent response “N-no, never!”.

Negan picks up his pace, loving how you give in, basically slumping against the wall. “See, doll, I want to believe you. I mean, I don’t know that many sluts that get this fucking wet from just a little grinding… it’s shameful, really” he curls his fingers to hit the perfect spot, making your squirm.

“But in saying that,” Negan continues, his breath hitting against your neck as he leans closer “I don’t know that many modest gals that wear something like this”. 

Deciding you know better than to repeat your mistake and move again, Negan takes his hand off your back and paws at your chest instead. But in true Negan fashion, he needs to up his antics.

Tugging down the low cut neckline of your dress, you hear a ripping noise as he pulls at the fabric and forces it down past your bra.

“Huh… surprised your modest enough to wear a bra” he comments, quickly rectifying the situation. Without warning, Negan roughly shoves the bra cups up, freeing your tits completely. "Fuck, look at these," he growls, appreciating the sight of your breasts spilling out. 

The fingers he has working your hole pause and retreat, much to your disappointment. You take the opportunity to turn around to face him, starting to feeling a crick in your neck from being smushed up by the wall.

“Asshole, you tore my dress“ your voice is laced with frustration, although that may be from how much you want him to stop teasing and fuck you already. 

With an amused scoff, Negan goes to hold up his hands in surrender. His fingers glisten with your juices. “I’m trying to be a gentlemen here, doll” he chuckles as he defends himself.

You fight the urge to cover yourself, knowing that’s what he’s waiting for. He wants to see that shy side, to see you blush and get flustered. 

You glare at him instead “How is this being a gentleman?”.

“Well, I coulda just ripped it clean off, but I left ya some dignity,” Negan smirks, crowding you again. You’re left no choice but to back into the wall, holding your glare as you look up at him.

“And I've fingered ya before fucking ya which is pretty damn noble” he adds, seeing you battle between staying annoyed and wanting to blush. You open your mouth to complain but a loud moan comes out instead as Negan pinches one of your nipples.

He thumbs your hard nipples, chuckling as they perk up even more under his touch. “Damn, always knew you’d have a good pair on ya," he muses “fuckin’ perfect”.

Negan doesn't hesitate, leaning down to engulf one nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, letting his teeth graze the sensitive bud as he kneads the other breast roughly. Groaning around your nipple, he switches to the other, assaulting it with the same fervent enthusiasm. 

With a grunt, Negan grabs your thighs and hoists you up, pinning you against the wall with his muscular body. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, arms going around his shoulders.

Negan grinds his still clothed cock against your bare pussy, applying just enough pressure to make you whimper. 

The rough denim of his pants provides no comfort, each thrust of his hips pressing his erection directly against your sensitive clit. "You feel that?" He asks against your tit “Want you to beg for it, gotta hear ya saying it”.

You have no hesitation. There is no reluctance to beg for him, not when you’re this close to getting what you thought would always be a wet dream. 

"Please, Negan, I need it!" you beg, your hips bucking against his pants in desperate attempts to get friction. “I’ve wanted you for so long, to fuck me in my bedroom o-or on the dinner table! Fuck, anywhere! I don’t care!”.

That seems to convince him. Reaching down and fumbling with his jeans, Negan has his cock out in record time. He grips the base, stroking it a few times as he lines it up with your soaked pussy. 

The head of his cock presses against your entrance, the tip barely peeking out from between your folds. Negan slowly eases in, allowing you to adjust to his massive size. 

You writhe and moan against him, trying to keep your body relaxed as he enters you. Trying your best to keep eye contact, you let out a string of whimpers as he fills you completely. 

"Damn, I actually fit," he says, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. Negan pulls out carefully, as if testing the waters before plunging back into your needy pussy with vigor.

"Holy fuck, even tighter than I imagined. Built for my dick, aren't you?" he grunts, starting to fuck you hard.

Each brutal thrust of his hips drives his thick cock deeper into your pussy, stretching you wide open. "Fuck, you're so tight it feels like my dick is splitting you in half. Love it. Fucking love it" Negan rambles on and grabs your thighs, spreading them as wide as he can.

"Fuck, Negan... you're so..." you try to speak "ah!”. It’s all too much in the best way possible. That delicious ache of being so thoroughly penetrated, the feeling of absolute fullness with each deep thrust.

"More... fuck me more..." your hips arch up to meet his thrusts, trying to keep up.

Negan angles his hips upwards, hitting that spot inside you over and over as he pounds into you. "Look at me," He growls, "Look at me while I break you in half with my dick. You like that? You like feeling so stuffed?"

“I-I've never been this full before…” you say with teary eyes.

Negan notices your body tensing and shuddering beneath him, your pussy walls starting to flutter wildly around his thick cock. "Holy shit, there it is... Your cunt's squeezin' me like a fuckin' vice. You gonna cum on my dick?".

The pressure is building to an unbearable point, your entire body trembling as your orgasm approaches. Your mind goes blank, unable to answer his question as he hits that perfect spot.

Just as your orgasm hits, Negan feels your pussy clamp down around him like a silken fist. "Holy fuck..." you gasp, back arching as pure pleasure courses through your veins. 

Your entire body quakes, inner muscles milking his cock as you ride out your intense orgasm. You dig your nails into his shoulders, legs trembling uncontrollably.

Negan grunts, fucking you through your intense orgasm with deep, deliberate strokes. He can feel your pussy spasming wildly around his shaft, coating him in your slick arousal. As the last waves shudder through you, he finally pulls out, his cock glistening with in the light.

He lets you stand for a moment but you legs are so wobbly, it’s difficult to support your weight after that intense orgasm.

Before you can even catch your breath, Negan grabs your shoulder roughly and forces you onto your knees. Your body complies in an instant, unable to fight against such force.

Your knees ache as they hit the bathroom floor but that’s the least of your concerns. You look up at him in wide-eyed shock, lips parted as you anticipate him coming all over your face.

"Fuckin' hell, such a pretty face..." He strokes his throbbing cock with his fist, ready to explode.

But instead of aiming for your face, Negan aims his cock at your chest, unleashing a thick, hot load of cum all over your tits. He groans loudly as he paints your breasts with his seed, the warm liquid dripping down between your cleavage and seeping into the fabric of your dress.  

“Next time you’re either swallowing it or you’re getting a facial courtesy of yours truly” he informs you, although the only piece of information you truly savor from that is ‘next time’.

Doing the gentlemanly thing, he grabs some tissue from the toilet paper dispenser and hands it to you. You dab at your chest, knowing the dress is a lost cause and will probably have to be thrown out later. 

“Help me up?” You ask, somewhat shyly once you’re done.

Taking your arm in a much more gentle grip than before, Negan helps you up, subtly looking over your chest to make sure you’ve wiped off all of him. “You feeling alright?” he asks lowly, as if remembering the public place you’re both in. 

You blink, giving yourself a moment to calm, your body still humming with the aftermath. “That was…” you pause, collecting your thoughts, “...wow.”

A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he slips his leather jacket off the stall door. “Well, that’s a better response than I expected,” he says with a smirk, draping the jacket around your shoulders and gently guiding your arms into the sleeves. Without a word about how the jacket nearly swallows you whole, he zips it up, pulling it snug to cover your chest. 

This is a completely different side to the Negan you’ve seen tonight. This is the Negan that gives you a small, reassuring smile after your parents throw some off handed insult your way. 

The two of you stand close, your breaths mingling. Slowly, the space between your faces narrows, as if drawn by some unspoken pull. You gently tilt your head, just enough to bring your lips into alignment with his. 

The kiss is a tender brush. Featherlight and hesitant. It’s the kind of kiss you’d expect before going at it like a bunch of animals… not afterwards.

The kiss lingers, still tasting of warmth and something unspoken. Pulling back just enough to rest your forehead against his, you can feel the soft touch of his lips still tingling on yours. You mutter against his lips, almost sheepishly “Can you drop me home?”.

His lips curl into a quiet smile, a slight glint in his eyes as he nods. “Considering I didn’t get to finish my first glass of whiskey, yeah I should be good,” Negan gives you a playful look.

Unable to help yourself, you give him a small smile. It’s not as seductive or teasing as the ones you have given him previously. In all honestly, it feels like Negan has fucked the seductiveness out of you– if that’s even possible.  

“... So this wasn’t some drunken mistake?” you ask coyly. 

Negan wraps an arm around your shoulders as he unlocks the stall door and carefully guides you out. ”Wear a dress like that the next time I’m at your parents for dinner and you’ll find out” he replies with a smirk. 

Besides his tousled hair, Negan still looks fine. He’s not dishevelled or out of breath or having trouble walking… all things you attribute to yourself.

Negan notices your state too, keeping his arm around you as you subtly leave the bathrooms and head for the exit. If it’s even possible, Negan pulls you closer, guiding you out like a drunk that’s had one too many. His presence is possessive in the gentlest of ways.

You give your friends a knowing look as you both leave, one that says you’ll explain everything later.

The sound of drunken chattering and laughter fades as you step out into the night, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the parking lot. 

When you reach the car, he opens the door for you with a small smirk, his eyes never leaving yours as you slide into the seat.  A few moments later, Negan slides into the driver's seat and the engine rumbles to life. 

The car doesn’t even get out of the parking lot before Negan’s hand finds yours. The ride home is quiet. He doesn’t say much, and neither do you, but the silence between you feels relaxed.

Every now and then, his thumb gently brushes across the back of your hand like a quiet reassurance. He doesn’t mention the contact, simply letting it linger. 

 The soft, rhythmic motion of the car becomes like a lullaby and with every mile, the weight of the night lifts just a little more. Every so often, you glance over at him, his face relaxed. When your eyes meet, he offers a smile and you sleepily return it.

Negan doesn’t pull up directly outside your house. Strategically stopping his car a little down the street, he sighs.

“Hate to say it but I’ll need that jacket back,” he gives you a once over, as if to memorize what his leather jacket looks like on you.

Fiddling with the zipper, you mumble “So I’m supposed to walk in there with a ripped up dress?”.

He laughs at that, shaking his head before reaching into the backseat. “Here, I know it’s dirty but it’s the best I can offer,” Negan hands you a sweatshirt. 

The sweatshirt is faded, its fabric softened from years of use. The sleeves are slightly frayed at the cuffs and a few small holes hint at its age. On the front, several dark oil stains mark where hands have wiped off grease, probably from Negan when working on his motorbike. 

But most importantly, it smells like him.

As you take off his jacket and put on the sweatshirt instead, Negan gives you some privacy and looks away. “Are you coming in too?” You ask, gently placing his jacket on his lap once you’ve changed.

Taking that as his signal to look, Negan gives you a sympathetic smile. “Not tonight, darlin,” he replies “think Lucille would chop my nuts off with your mom’s fancy silver if I showed my face”.

“You two are fighting that bad?”.

Negan shrugs “Same old, same old”.

You try not to fidget with the frayed sleeves of his sweatshirt, not wanting to pick at it right in front of him. 

“And… this?” You focus your attention at simply inspecting the sleeves instead of picking at them “I mean, I know you said it wasn’t a drunken mistake but still… I get it if you wanna pretend like it never happened”.

As much as you wanted quick reassurance, you’re met with silence. 

Negan leans back in his seat, taking his eyes away from yours and looking at the street. Up ahead, he can see the porch light on to your parents house. Although, he doubts Lucille will be leaving anytime soon. She’ll probably stay late, try to wait it out until Negan has drank himself silly and fallen asleep.

“Tonight shouldn’t have happened,” he says with little emotion “It ain’t right. I know it. You know it. Hell, anyone in a ten mile radius would call me all sorts of names if they knew about it…  fucking your friend’s daughter is a whole mess”.

You stay quiet, unsure whether you should just get out now.

“But shit, if you wanted to suck my dick right now, I wouldn’t say no,” he chuckles “it’s a fucked up thing to say but I wouldn’t mind something like this happening again”.

That puts a smile back on your face. Getting ready to leave, you say “Maybe if you come to dinner next time, I will suck your dick”.

Negan watches you with narrowed eyes. Of course you’d be able to make his dick twitch again, making him feel like a teenager that could get it up over and over again. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he warns as you get out.

“Good,” you hop out of the car, giving him one last flirtatious smirk before going “I hope you do”.

Closing the door, you strut along the pavement, your heels clicking as you go to your house. Walking has never seemed so hard, not only because of your shoe choice but from the aching in your gut and your legs wobbling more than you’d like to admit. 

Still, you try to do your best to walk straight, knowing Negan is watching. 

When you get to the front door, you give Negan one last glance before disappearing inside. He wait a few moments before starting up his car and leaving. 

The first thing you hear is a chorus of polite laughter from the dining room. Great, looks like they’re still in the midst of dinner. Before you have a chance to debate if you could get upstairs without them hearing, you hear your father call out your name.

“Is that you?” He calls out.

Reluctantly, you walk in, lingering by the doorway. Your parents to turn in their dining chairs to face you. Whereas Lucille has you right in her line of view. She offers you a gracious smile as you enter.

“I thought you were staying at Lydia’s tonight,” you mom says, eyeing your sweatshirt and what appears to be a skirt. Thankfully she doesn’t comment on how short it is.

“Eh, Lydia talked things out with her boyfriend so they’re back together again,” you lie casually “you know how they are; fight, break up and make up”.

Lucille casts her gaze down slightly, as if your words hit a little too close to home for her. You shift uncomfortably. 

“There’s some leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry” your mom says, blissfully unaware.

“I’m ok,” you give her a smile “I think I might just shower and head to bed early”.

“Alright,” she already waves you off, turning back in her seat “if you’re sure”.

You don’t linger, giving them a polite nod before leaving. It’s only when you turn to leave does Lucille look at you again. 

She’s never believed in coincidences. And she’s never believed you to be into repairing cars. She knows the faint stains on your sweatshirt, mainly because she’s the one who spent hours trying to scrub them out… only for Negan to reward her with new stains on the damn thing. 

Nodding along with whatever it is your father is saying, Lucille’s mind strays further and further from the dinner and to Negan instead. 

Something’s happened. What exactly, she’s not sure. But you’re involved and so is her damned husband.

—————

A/N: thought I’d put in a quick note just to say thanks for reading and apologies for disappearing all month! My family almost got scammed out of 11k (it was insane) but!! More importantly!! I got seriously bad writers block so apologies if this fic is a little choppy, I’m still getting back into my stride!!

[wendichester]

Hello Darling

Should I be working? Yes…

Have I instead read almost your entire posts about Dean? Maybe…

Do I regret the overtime I now need to work? Absolutely not!

You are so gifted! And I was wondering if I could request a little something… if it’s not up your street that’s totally fine as well!

Maybe Dean knows the reader from way back like high school or something an now he meets her again in a bar that she owns… maybe feelings resurface that both had tried to keep buried and it gets steamy in baby?

Luv ya 🍄

☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ coming home,

summary. there's nothing like coming back to a place where you once felt like home.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 1115

notes. hiya hun! thank you so much for sending this through. honestly had me giggling and kicking my feet with the beginning of this ask. love you! 🩷🍄

Dean pushes the bar's door open, being immediately met by the smell of whiskey and old wood, the low hum of classic rock filling the air. His boots scuffing against the floor as he scans the room. It’s nothing fancy—just a neighborhood joint with a dartboard in the corner and a jukebox that’s probably been there since the 80s—but something about it feels warm. Familiar.

And then he sees you.

You’re behind the bar, hair tied back, moving with easy confidence as you pour a drink. Dean stops in his tracks, the years between high school and now melting away in an instant.

It’s been over a decade since he’s seen you. You’d been the smart, sharp-tongued girl who didn’t take crap from anyone, not even him. And if he’s being honest, he’d had it bad for you back then—your quick wit, your easy laugh, the way you saw through all his bravado. But he’d buried those feelings, just like he buried everything else, and life moved on as his dad forced him into another life; a new start because of yet another hunt.

But now, watching you laugh with a customer, that same spark in your eyes, it’s like no time has passed.

He must’ve been staring too long, because suddenly you glance his way—and freeze.

“Dean Winchester,” you say, a grin spreading across your face as you set down the glass you were polishing.

“Y/N,” he says, a little breathless as he steps closer. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

You lean against the bar, arms crossed, and he tries not to notice how the years have only made you more beautiful. “What are you doing here?”

“Passing through,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal, though his heart is pounding. “Heard this place was good. Didn’t know it was yours.”

You laugh, the sound wrapping around him like a warm blanket. “Yeah, well, someone had to turn this dump into something decent.”

“Looks like you did a hell of a job,” he says, glancing around before meeting your eyes again. “How long’s it been?”

“Too long,” you say, your voice softening. “You want a drink, or are you just here to reminisce?”

“I'll take both,” he says with a grin, sliding onto a barstool.

The conversation flows easily, memories spilling out between sips of whiskey. You tease him about his old leather jacket that somehow still fits, and he reminds you of the time you beat him at pool and made him buy you ice cream.

But there’s a weight to the air now, a tension that wasn’t there before. Every brush of your hand as you pass him a drink, every glance that lingers a little too long—it all feels electric.

When the night winds down and the bar clears out, you lock the door and turn to find him still sitting there, watching you with that look in his eyes. The one that used to make your knees weak in high school.

“You sticking around town for a while?” you ask, leaning against the bar.

“Maybe,” he says, standing and closing the distance between you. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you’d wanna go for a drive,” he says, his voice low, his lips quirking into a smirk.

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Still using Baby to pick up girls, huh?”

“Only the special ones,” he says, and the way he’s looking at you makes it clear you’re at the top of that list.

Before you know it, you’re sliding into the passenger seat of the Impala, the engine rumbling to life as he pulls out of the parking lot. The night air is cool, the windows cracked, and the hum of the road beneath you feels like old times.

When he pulls off onto a quiet stretch of road and kills the engine, you turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “This where you murder me?”

“Funny,” he says, leaning closer, his hand resting on the back of your seat. “Nah, just figured it’s been too long since we really talked.”

“Talked, huh?” you say, your voice teasing.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Missed you, sweetheart. More than I realized.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and before you can second-guess yourself, you close the distance, your lips crashing into his.

The kiss is fire, heat, and years of pent-up tension unraveling in one heady moment. His hand slides into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch, while your fingers curl into the leather of his jacket, pulling him closer. The air in the Impala feels stifling, the windows fogging up as his tongue slips past your lips, the taste of whiskey making your head spin.

“Damn,” he breathes when you finally pull back, his forehead resting against yours. His hand slides down to your waist, fingertips tracing the curve of your hip. “Should’ve done that years ago.”

“You’re a little slow on the uptake,” you tease, but your voice is breathless, and your fingers are already trailing down his chest, finding the buttons of his shirt.

“Yeah?” he grins, leaning back just enough to take you in, his eyes dark and heated. “Why don’t you catch me up then?”

You shift, climbing over to straddle his lap, the tight space forcing you to press closer, your knees bracketing his hips. His hands settle on your thighs, the heat of his palms searing through your jeans as his gaze sweeps over you.

“You’re trouble,” he mutters, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice, the way his hands tighten their grip.

“Always have been,” you whisper back, capturing his lips again, this time slower, deeper, your hips rocking against his.

The Impala creaks as you move, your bodies fitting together like a puzzle. Dean groans into your mouth, one hand slipping under your shirt to splay against the small of your back, his calloused fingers drawing shivers as they skim your skin.

“You keep this up, sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice rough and low, “we’re not making it back to your bar tonight.”

“Who said we need to?” you counter, your lips brushing the shell of his ear before you nip at his jawline, making him curse softly.

His head falls back against the seat, his eyes blazing as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs, pulling you even closer.

And as you lose yourselves in each other, the world outside the Impala fades away, leaving nothing but the two of you and the years of longing finally spilling over.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze

[thestraybunny]

The Landing|Y.JH Part 1

Pairing: Guide Singer Jeonghanx Afab! reader Full WC: 11.7k Genre: Non-Idol AU, Neighbors to lovers, Rated: M (18+, MDNI) Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, unprotected sex (practice safe sex yall), idiots in love (and I mean they are idiots), Reader is in denial of her feelings and the obvious, reader is a single mother, toxic ex, mentions of past abuse, drinking, smoking. (Will add more as parts go on and please let me know if I miss any)

Summary: Jeonghan is an asshole. He is blunt, rude, and sometimes its wondered how he had friends at all. But the thing is. He is an asshole to everyone, but two people. A single mother and her son in his building.

A/N: Thank you again to @gam3bo17 for beta reading this. It means a lot! *Reader is a 95er like Jeonghan* As I said in my teaser I contemplated posting this, but I worked hard on this and I am very proud. You will see mentions of Joshua's installment (she is named in this), and you are going to see hints at some future fics, but these fics can be read as stand alone. I hope you enjoy! Please be sure to read my rule/guidelines Rules/Guidlines K-Series Masterlist

**September**

Baby🍑: Hey, Hanni! Can you do me a huge favor??? Baby🍑: I am running late here at work, and Ren is nearly home from tutoring. Mom won’t be able to get him for another hour and I don’t know when I will be getting out of here, could he hang out at your place until either me or her get there? Jeonghan: Of course! I just got off the subway and almost home. I’ll be there soon. He knows to let himself in, he has the code. Baby🍑: You are seriously such a life saver! I will be home soon, and I’ll bring the beer tonight.

Jeonghan smirked as he read your response, before slipping his phone back into his messenger bag to make his way through the crowded subway station; not needing to respond. Picking up his pace slightly once onto the street leading to his apartments since he didn’t want Ren, your eight year old son, to be waiting for him for too long. His place may be a young boy’s dream, he would rather not leave one free to roam in for too long.

Plus, he couldn’t wait to see either of you.

--

“I am so very sorry,” You gasped out, finally reaching your floors landing, only to find Jeonghan handing off Ren’s backpack and weekend bag to your mother. Both looking to be packed like it was every week he went to his grandparents. The three of them turned toward you before you spoke, already hearing your feet on the staircase.

“Mama!” Ren yelled out with excitement, releasing your mother’s hand to run to you, nearly knocking you back. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, your eyes dropping right to the thick dark mop of hair, a wide smile gracing your lips as you plant a kiss on the top of his head. Making sure to hug him back with all your might. “Mr. Jeonghan got a new Lego set and says he’s gonna wait until I come home so we can put it together. It’s a spaceship.”

“That is so nice of him,” You respond, glancing up toward the other two, catching a glimpse of the dark haired man leaning against the door frame of his apartment, arms crossed as he watched you both. You could see he was fighting a smile before he finally tore his gaze from you. “Thank you so much again for watching him.”

Jeonghan shot you a wink before bidding you all a good night and closed his apartment door. Leaving the three of you alone on the landing. Turning your attention to your mother, you could see the knowing look she was giving you as she walked toward you and Ren. Your son’s bags in one hand as the other reaches for the boy’s hand.

“I’ll pick him up after work Sunday afternoon. That way you and dad could have the evening to relax.” You tell her, letting her pull Ren from your arms and gave her a half hug.

“Don’t worry about it. Me and your father have decided to close the shop Sunday and Monday. So, we can keep him, and I’ll walk him to school.” She waves off your words, looking down at Ren with a smile. He was staring off into space, absentmindedly swinging his and his grandmother’s hand. When she looked back toward you, you were wearing a look of worry, and she waves you off again, “Don’t give me that look. It’s nothing. Your father wanted to take Ren fishing Sunday, and you know with his hip and leg, he won’t be able to move much the next day. Plus, he didn’t want me to open and work the shop alone. He ran the numbers and found it won’t hurt us to be closed a day or two. So stop that worrying now.”

You gave her a doubtful look, not sure if you should believe her or not. Your parents have been running the small restaurant since before you were even born, it was only closed a total of six times in your life. Your birth, when you got appendicitis, important school events like graduation, and the day that Ren was born.

“Besides, I’m sure you would like to spend some extra time with your boyfriend without worrying about Ren here,” She whispers, making sure that Ren was still off in his own world before speaking. This only earned a sigh from you.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Mom, it’s nothing like that at all. He’s a friend and neighbor who helps me out with Ren sometimes,” You shake your head, keeping your own voice low but you wouldn’t look at her. “I don’t want Ren to get the wrong idea about us.”

“You mean, you don’t want to get attached,” She challenges, straightening her back, and this made you look at her, feeling like you were looking at your future self. “I don’t mean or want to sound cruel, but as a single mother, your chances at finding a husband is slim. Most men wouldn’t look at you twice once they learn about Ren, and this man looks at you like you walk on water. I wouldn’t ignore that if I was you.”

“Thanks for that Mom,” Your voice had a dry tone to it, shaking your head again and adjusted your bag onto your shoulder. “He doesn’t look at me in anyway, nor is there anything between us. He’s my neighbor and a friend.”

“Mmmhmm, I made you some dishes, and they are right there,” She points toward the bright pink bundle on the ground next to your front door. Filled with containers of different foods your mother would make you. Always making enough that you didn’t have to worry too much about cooking through the week. “I was going to put everything away, but Ren’s things were already packed. If nothing is going on, then I would be concerned that he has such easy access to your apartment.”

“Me and Ren have just as easy access to his too.” You cross your arms, trying to not show that your statement was not helping your case whatsoever.

“You must be very good friends then,” Your mother quipped, and it was then Ren snapped out of his daydream with a look of confusion. “I’d call you later, but I am sure you will be busy.”

“Mom!” You gasped, as the two of them started down the stairs.

“Bye Mama!” Ren called out, and you had to lean over the railing to make sure he saw you waving.

“Bye Ren baby. Bye Mom.” You yell out before turning to look toward Jeonghan’s closed apartment door. Your mother didn’t know what she was talking about.

--

There was a knock a few hours later, a soft one that Jeonghan was surprised he was able to hear over the music. Pausing the random song that was playing on his Spotify, the dark haired man stopped briefly to check his reflection in the mirror. Making sure his clothes didn’t have any stains on them, his hair wasn’t too wild, and that he looked good before opening the door. Knowing full well who was on the other side.

In attempts to look cool and sexy, he leaned his arm against the doorframe while wearing his best lazy smirk. Bottom lips between his teeth, and his eyes raking over his guest with interest.

“Stop trying to look cool, you look silly.” You tease, making his eyes look back up to your smiling face, though he wanted to go back to checking you out in the little black tank dress you were wearing. It was one of the ones you would wear when you were home, along with your favorite fluffy bunny slippers. The way it clung to your body made him nearly lose his mind, and it was so easy to slip off you. In one hand you had your phone, and in the other was a six pack of his favorite beer.

Holding up the case of beer, you spoke again proudly, “See, told you I would bring the beer tonight.”

If it was anyone else who told him that he looked silly, Jeonghan may have had a smartass remark ready, or even would return the joke with a more brutal comment about their appearance, but with you, he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he just let out a small laugh as he let you into his apartment but grasped your wrist when you went to walk past him, likely to the kitchen to put the beer away, to make you face him.

The smile on your face softened to a sultry smile, one that didn’t help his sanity one bit, before you closed the distance to kiss him. Quick, but it made him want to grab the back of your head to pull you into another. One that would involve his tongue teasing yours and would probably cause you to drop what was in your hands, but he let you go instead, not wanting to clean up broken glass and spilled beer. Letting you continue your journey into his kitchen to put the beer away. Sans the two that you kept out for you both to drink.

His dark eyes followed you as you walked, loving the way your hips naturally swayed or how the dress hugged your ass. Heat rushed over his body straight to his cock when you bent forward to put the beers away, the dress riding up only slightly to give him more of a glimpse of your thighs.

He couldn’t fucking wait to pull it off you.

“Did you help Ren pack his things today?” You asked him when he joined you into the kitchen, handing him a now open beer. Your phone left upright on the counter, only ever close in case there was an emergency with Ren.

“Yeah, he wanted to show me his new dinosaur collection that you got him, so I figured might as well do it while we were at it. One less thing for you or your mom to worry about,” He answers with a shrug, before looking at you with a look of concern, trying to not show a small wave of panic rushed through him. “Was that okay?”

“More than okay.” You tell him, taking a swig of your own beer while leaning against the kitchen counter. Jeonghan moves to join you, taking another swig. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to though. I don’t expect anything like that from you. Just watching him when I need it is enough.”

“Just that?” Jeonghan questioned you, the bottle barely brushed against his lips, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. Setting your beer bottle down, you push off the counter and stood in front of him.

That sultry smile back on your face, your hands reaching out to touch his chest and the tips of your fingers brushed over the skin that was exposed under his oversized button up. Enjoying that he would leave the several buttons undone, making it easy for you to tease the exposed skin. Soon your arms around his neck, and he moves his beer to the counter to place his on your hips. Bunching your dress in his fists, pulling it up enough that the bottom curve of your ass was exposed.

“When it comes to him, yes. However, for me…” You drop your gaze down to his lips, and Jeonghan’s grip tightened on the stretched fabric of your dress. He held his breath as he watched you move your lips closer to his, heart pounding in his ears every time you were this close to him. He wanted you to run your fingers through his dark hair, commenting how much it has grown since you met, and that you loved the length. The hair barely brushing the bottom of his neck.

He wanted you to tell him how much you wanted him. How much you missed his touch. He just wanted you to tell him anything so you would keep touching him and he kept touching you.

“For you what?” The was a husky tone to his voice.

“Well, for one, there is so much you could be doing to me right now.” Your voice was low, almost a whisper and fuck did it feel like silk wrapping around him like a blanket. Your breath hitting his lips, and he could smell the little bit of beer you drank but he didn’t care. He wanted you to tell him so he could act on it. “And with those things, I expect plenty of orgasms for both parties involved. I heard that the neighbor isn’t going to be home tonight, so we know she won’t be making any noise complaints.”

This made him laugh, since you were the neighbor, a smile on his face that one was designated for you, before kissing you. He loosens his grip on your dress to move one up to the back of your neck, the other staying on your hip. Your own hands moved to cup his face, your tongues gently teased each other’s. A low moan starting to erupt from the back of your throat.

It ignited a fire inside him, his craving to have you taking hold. He wanted you in so many ways that night, and well into the morning. To pull you back into bed when you try to slip out and back to your apartment, trying to claim that you needed to get things done while Ren wasn’t home. Except you never resisted when he did pull you back into the comforts of his arms and his blankets. Starting all over again.

Both of you never able to feel sated long, continuing to chase that feeling well into the morning. Keep going until you were laying together, just staring at his ceiling. He didn’t think that nearly a year ago, that taking pity on a little boy sitting on the landing next to his apartment would bring him here. With you here in his arms, and the happiest he has ever been. All thanks to you and Ren.

The only thing that he would make him even happier, and wished different was your relationship. Or lack thereof. You were neighbors/friends with benefits, two people who found friendship and the comfort of being in each other’s. Nothing more than that.

Ren didn’t know about the two of you, nor did you want him to know. You didn’t want to confuse your son, and that effectively cutting off the possibility of anything more than this.

If this was all you were able to offer, then he would take what he could get.

--

**almost a year ago**

“You need to fucking talk to her about this shit, not me.” Jeonghan scolded into the phone, absolutely over his best friend calling to complain about his girlfriend and the problems they were having. Problems that could easily be solved by just fucking talking. It was driving him nuts. “At this point, I can’t stand either of you. I am honestly considering changing my damn fucking number.”

Jeonghan loved his best friend more than words could describe, he hated watching him and the girl of his dreams have issues, but he could only hear so much. Especially when the other man wouldn’t take his, Seungcheol’s, or anyone else’s in the group’s advice. Which was just be honest and talk to her. What he would give for a night without hearing Joshua’s problems.

It wasn’t a good look on his usually calm and collected friend and took away from Jeonghan’s all-round cranky glory. It was quite annoying as much as he felt for him and was honestly just effecting his own mood.

“Blah blah blah. Call Coups about this. Maybe you’ll finally take his advice instead.” Jeonghan snapped, fed up about hearing it any longer, and hung up on the other man as he reached his door. “Fucking stubborn ass couple. They’re meant for each other.”

He was so focused on his call and the desire to get into his apartment with a cold beer that he didn’t see the young boy sitting against the wall next to his door. It wasn’t until he went to put in his code that he noticed him, probably no older than seven or eight, with a manga open in his lap. Except the boy wasn’t reading, he was just watching Jeonghan with curiosity. His bangs were falling over his eyes and the glasses he was wearing, still in his school uniform.

He had seen him a few times in passing. His neighbor’s kid.

“What are you doing out here?” Jeonghan found himself asking without thought, his hand still hovering over the keypad. The boy continued to watch him for a moment before finally speaking.

“My mom told me that the battery died on the lock’s keypad, and she’s not able to change it until tonight, so I needed to remember my key.” The boy answered, before looking down sheepishly at his book. “But I forgot them when I left for school this morning. And she’s still at work.”

“Why don’t you go to her work?”

“It’s far away and I don’t know how to get there.”

“And you can’t call her?”

“I’m seven. I don’t have a phone.” He answered, and Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle. He had him there.

“She gonna be home soon?” Jeonghan didn’t know why he was talking to the boy, or even why he even cared so much, but there was something about him that struck something in him. Not liking the idea of him sitting out on the landing until his mom got home. The boy looked at his watch.

“It’s four-thirty, she doesn’t get home until six.” He tells him. If he remembered correctly, primary school students get out around one in the afternoon. Has he been out here this whole time?

Now he really didn’t feel comfortable leaving him out there alone.

“How long you been out here?”

“Not long. I went to play with my friend Soobin at the park for a bit, but he had to go home to help with his baby sisters. He has three!” He held up three fingers, “I didn’t remember that the lock was dead until I got home, or I would have asked him if I could go with him. I managed to get some of my homework done though.”

“Well, if you want, you can come hang out with me until she gets home. Use my phone to call her,” The dark haired man then offered, and the boy watched him carefully. Clearly weighing his options and trying to gauge if it was wise to go into a strangers apartment. Even if it was his neighbor.

Jeonghan didn’t think he was giving off any creeper vibes, but he couldn’t fault the boy for considering his choices. Sure that his mom had educated him to be weary to strangers.

“You promise to not kill me?” He then asked, and this made Jeonghan snort a laugh. Simply because he was caught off by the question.

“I promise that I won’t kill you, kid.” He assured, and the boy scrambled to his feet, grabbing his backpack in the process to follow Jeonghan into the apartment. The moment he had walked through the threshold of Jeonghan’s, his eyes grew wide at the different kinds of posters, figures, model vehicles and buildings, and other things that he loved to collect. Closing the door behind them both, Jeonghan pulled his messenger bag off and moved toward the kitchen. “You got a name?”

“Of course I do!” The boy chuckled, turning away from one of the large displays to look at the older man. “My name is Ren.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jeonghan.” He turned to pull out a couple of sodas out of the fridge. “Thirsty?”

After getting them both drinks, Jeonghan gave Ren his phone to try and call his mom to let her know where he was but only got her voicemail. He left one and the two of them hung out for that hour and a half, with Jeonghan checking periodically to see if his mom had made it home yet. It wasn’t until six-twenty when she had trudged up the steps. Exhaustion and what looked like defeat playing over her features, bag nearly falling off her shoulder, and a large bag of takeaway in her hands.

Clear signs she already was having a long day.

She looked relieved to see Ren when he came out of Jeonghan’s apartment, looking like the weight lifted off her when she saw him. Setting the bags down, she engulfed the boy into a tight hug, and just watching the two made Jeonghan smile. Then she looked up and met his eyes, and the world around him shifted. Everything else disappeared and it was only her. You.

It was the night you and Ren walked into his life.

--

Your eyes felt like they were permanently rolled back as Jeonghan’s cock thrusted into you, filling you and hitting the right spots from this angle. Legs hooked at the bend of his arms, pressing you flat into his mattress, completely open at his mercy. Being filled over and over by his thick cock, bare and felt every inch. It was heaven to you have him inside you like this, your moans and whimpers of his name and praises louder as they were mixed with breathless curses.

Truthfully, it was an incredibly stupid move on both your parts, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. Too lost in each other’s bodies, too busy trying to reach peak after peak together. Ones that no one had ever brought you to, let alone putting you ahead of their own, instead of leaving you behind. 

Jeonghan’s eyes stayed fixed on your face, his own moans leaving him with his own string of words. Validation while mixing traces of names that would otherwise offend you, encouragement as he watches you come undone under him. Telling you how good you were for him, how gorgeous you looked taking him the way he had you. Begging you to cum for him, that he wanted to feel you around his cock. Coating it with your own release.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” His question sounded a little strained, before letting out a moan that sounded like beautiful music; melodies that were only meant for you. You watch his bottom lip find its way firmly between his teeth, his face unable to hide how good you felt, how good he felt as your orgasm rushed over you. Clinging to him that brought him closer to his.

“In… Inside… please…” You pant out, not wanting him to cum anywhere else. Jeonghan and you had only been with each other since starting this, the last time you were with anyone else was three years previous, and you both were clean. You were on birth control, and it wasn’t like this was the first time he had finished in you.

It was a regular thing.

You had to admit it too, you loved the feeling of being full of him, even after he pulls out of you. It felt like he was leaving his claim in you without the world needing to see. That in a way you were his. Something that only the two of you shared, and it was the closest you would allow yourself with him.

His mouth captures yours into a kiss, tongues tangling, as he picks up his pace. With each thrusts growing sloppier and more desperate. Pulling away, Jeonghan’s forehead pressed up against yours, his eyes squeezed shut as he filled you. Coating your inner walls with stripes of his cum and refused to slow down until he had nothing left to empty in you. Leaving you full like you wanted.

Something he loved doing just as much as you loved him doing it to you.

Unhooking his arm from one of your legs, the dark haired man’s hand reached to cup your face, both of you trying to steady your breathing. Strands of hair tickling your skin as you stayed that way, neither of you making any moves to detach yourselves from each other. Staying attached while you both came down.

It was you who opened your eyes first, seeing him with his own shut but his face was now relaxed instead of the look of pleasurable concentration he originally had. There was a sheen of sweat over your skins, and you’re spent for the moment. Both of you trying to grasp for your bearings. This wasn’t the last time that night you were going to be in this position, or any other one for that matter, or even well into the morning.

Around Ren, the both of you were able to keep your hands to yourselves, giving off the illusion that you were just friendly neighbors. But he was gone to your parents, and it was just the two of you, it was a different story. Neither of you could keep your hands off each other, only able to go so long without going at it again. With all it taking is a simple look from you, the tips of Jeonghan’s fingers brushing over your skin just right, or when either of your lips would find a weak spots. Ready for each other quickly.

“I got to pee,” You finally broke the blissful silence, your body being the one to decide that it was time to part. Jeonghan made a noise of protest but reluctantly agreed.

Both of you groaned when Jeonghan finally pulled away from you, sensitive to the touch, before flipping onto his back to stare at the ceiling while you got up to hurry to the bathroom. He joined you a few minutes later after you finished cleaning yourself up, to do the same for himself.

“You hungry?” He asked once the two of you were now relaxing comfortably back on his sofa, you back in your dress (just no underwear), and him in a T-shirt and boxers. You had barely taken a swig of a freshly open beer, and not getting a chance to respond before he had his phone out to pull up the delivery app. Checking out all the options available.

“I can eat.” You answer him, picking up the remote that he had tossed to you. Letting you pick what to watch against his better judgement. “What were you thinking?”

“If I felt like leaving, I would suggest we check out this little food stand that my friend Mingyu knows of. He’s been talking about taking all of the guys for over a year now but disappears to go see his girlfriend before the nights over. It’s only open a few hours a night, but we been drinking and I don’t feel like walking. I am sure you don’t either.” He then shot a glance toward you, his eyes raking over your frame with a smirk, “I also plan to have that dress off you again and keep it off you for the rest of the night. Plus it’s cold so that would mean more clothes to pull off you.”

“That is a lot of reasons to not go. I’m good with whatever you want.” You nodded, flipping through the different apps to find something to watch. Pretending to not see the mock dirty look he gave you, since he knew full well that you had every intentions on having him choose. In the entire time you had been seeing each other, he had yet to pick something that you didn’t like and vice versa. Well unless it’s your taste in movies or television according to him, but for the most part, you trusted his judgement. “You have any idea of what you want to watch?”

“I’m good with whatever you want.” Jeonghan retorted back, and you shot him your own look, seeing the playful smirk playing over his lips; ordering from the same little restaurant that you always ordered from. “No fun, is it?”

“You have good taste in food, while you tell me I have bad taste in movies and T.V.” You retort, earning a chuckle from him. “You can’t complain on what I pick then.”

“Of course, I can. I can complain all I want. Maybe so much to the point you will need to sit on my face to shut me up.” The way his tongue ran over his lips as the smirk switched from a playful one to a suggestive one, adding a wiggle to his brows. This made you snort before bumping his shoulder.

“I think the term is ‘kiss me to shut me up.’” You tell him as he turns his phone toward you to make sure you were okay with what he was ordering, which you nod your approval. He places the order.

“I mean, technically I am telling you to kiss me. Just with your other lips.” This time he earned a smack on the shoulder, a gentle one, but he still feigned injured. Only he wasn’t able to hold back his laughter as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and grabbed the remote from you. “I’ve reconsidered letting you pick.”

--

**November**

“You didn’t call me back last night.” Joshua spoke up after swallowing a mouth full of ramen, looking up toward Jeonghan from across the table. It was their weekly dinner with their other friend, Seungcheol. So far the conversation consisted mostly about Joshua and his girlfriend getting back together, or Seungcheol complaining over work and wedding planning.

Jeonghan, however, had just stayed quiet and listened to the conversations in front of him with very little interest. Focusing mostly on his food and his fourth beer of the night. He gave his input when needed, which was mostly a snide comment or when a call out was needed, but he kept to himself mostly.

“And you still haven’t answered my texts from two weeks ago, but here you are responding to Luci’s messages in front of me. I would say me not calling you back is pretty damn warranted. So, what’s your point?” Jeonghan shot back, catching the way his best friend’s skin tinted a little red at the call out. Seungcheol could only watch the exchange, gauging the situation and Jeonghan’s temperament while chewing his food.

Jeonghan wasn’t just withdrawn at this dinner, but it has been going on for the last month and a half. Especially after his birthday, and this had not gone unnoticed by the other members of their friend group. Choosing to stay home more than usual or appeared checked out when he was around them. At least more checked out than usual. Always appearing to be lost in thought with whatever it was that had been on his mind. Which he was.

You had been pulling more overtime at work to cover a coworkers workload while they were on vacation, so you were working late until they had gotten back. Even having you go in on your days off to keep up with it, which made it hard to match up with Jeonghan’s own schedule. Making it harder to see each other.

Ren had been staying at your parents’ more, either staying late or just staying over completely most night, so Jeonghan had not gotten to really see either of you. Going from seeing each other near daily.

You and him did your best to work something out, but it didn’t feel the same. Instead of spending your free evenings and days off together, enjoying beers and each other’s companies, it was quickies before you had to get some sleep or if Ren was there. Trying to be quick in case he woke up to catch Jeonghan slipping from your bedroom.

What didn’t help was you weren’t feeling well either, unsure if it was a stomach bug, stress from work, or something else entirely. Jeonghan had considered the possibility, and considered bringing this up to you, but he wasn’t sure it that was something to casually ask between quick hellos on the landing or quick hooks ups where the main goal was to just cum. Eventually, he just went with the idea it was likely from stress with work.

Though the thought did linger at times.

But it ended up putting Jeonghan in a bad mood. He missed you. Missed both you and Ren. It put him in such a funk that he didn’t want to go out or really do anything for that matter, just sit around and mope. Hell, he didn’t even want to be at this dinner with the other two ninety-fivers of the group, but he needed to get out of his apartment. Do something other than wait around hoping he would get a text that you were coming over or you would knock at his door.

“You doing okay, Hanni?” Seungcheol then asks, and Jeonghan only sat back from his meal, grabbing his beer to drink in the process.

“Have you ever thought, I know it’s a hard concept for both of you, that maybe that I just don’t feel like talking? I been recording guides all day for other artists instead of recording and releasing my own music. Maybe I just want to rest my voice.” He didn’t stop the annoyance from coming through either, the other two men just watched him pull his phone out.

Acting like he was checking notifications, but really he was opening and checking your messages. Stupidly hoping for a text from you. It was pathetic.

Only the last text that he had gotten from you was telling him to enjoy dinner with the guys and that you were having an early night. Ren was with your parents that weekend, like he usually was, and you had refused to let Jeonghan cancel his plans to spend the evening with you or even come after he finishes up. Stating you were beyond exhausted and still was not feeling too well. Work had taken it out of you more that week than usual and was worried you would bore him with how much of a dud you were feeling.

Which would be so far from the truth, because if it was, he wouldn’t be looking at his phone constantly. Hoping from a text from you to come over. He didn’t give a shit about having sex, it was nice, but he just wanted to see you and maybe fall asleep with you in his arms. Just so he could wake up next to you the next morning. He just wanted to spend time with you, have you around him. This new arrangement was eating at him.

It went from the two of you seeing each other regularly, spending nearly every weekend together, to quick hookups, hellos on the landing, or an exchange of flirty/risqué texts. It was selfish of him to feel this wasn’t enough, finding himself spoiled for getting as much as you as he did. Especially when you weren’t even his. Fuck did he miss you.

“That’s you normally, but nothing like this.” It was Joshua that answered this time, and Jeonghan went to shoot daggers toward him until he saw the genuine concern over his best friends features. It was written over Seungcheol’s too. “You’re more withdrawn than usual, and more irritable then normal. We all have noticed this change. What’s wrong?”

“Why does there have to be something wrong for me to be in a bad mood? I could have slept wrong, or the barista this morning could have fucked up on my coffee order. I could be in a bad mood for the hell of it. Doesn’t mean that something has to be wrong.” Jeonghan closed his phone as he says this, tossing it onto the table with more vigor then he intended, knocking over an empty beer bottle in the process, “Don’t read too much into that.”

“And I am in love with Coups.” Joshua retorted back, earning a look from Seungcheol as if asking why he used that as a response. The other two just ignored him as they continued their back and forth.

“Luci is going to be very disappointed since you two barely got back together. Pretty sure Meg is gonna fight you for Coups here.” Jeonghan didn’t miss a beat, showing he was still on the ball and not that distracted. Joshua and Seungcheol only rolled their eyes at this, while he let out a proud chuckle at the comment. “I would pay money to watch a showoff between them and you two. My money is on them though.”

“Yeah, yeah. You just want us to get our asses kicked by our girls. In all seriousness, though, we are a little worried about you. Both of us know that you aren’t normally in this much of a funk unless something was bothering you.” Seungcheol pointed out before signaling to have a few more beers delivered to the table. “It is work? Family? Girl Problems…Guy? Problems?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Jeonghan sighed, finishing his beer before setting the empty bottle back onto the table, wondering if he really should say something about you and Ren. How he’s been casually sleeping with you for seven months, how perfect you are to him, how much he likes being around your kid. How he’s both the happiest and the unhappiest he has ever been, because he fucked up and fell in love with you. Was he even ready to say it out loud? “I’m just tired, okay? You’re making me regret not bailing on you guys.”

“Liar. If nothing is wrong, then why do you keep checking messages between you and this Baby?” The oldest of the three asked, placing one of the freshly delivered beers in front of him, and Jeonghan’s whipped his head toward him. Eyes wide. The normal cool demeanor briefly shattering at the mention of your nickname in his phone, giving himself away before he could recover. “So, it is…”

“It’s not. She’s literally no one.” The words were so bitter on his tongue, a blatant lie because he was panicking. He had wondered if he should tell them, but now that the moment had presented himself, he realized he couldn’t do it. What would he even say anyways? That he made what should be an easy arrangement more complicated? That you didn’t want anything more than what you had.

No, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face that look of pity from either of his friends. That he was pathetic to put that as your name in his phone and now was backed into a corner.

“If she’s no one, then why is her name that in your phone?” Joshua asked, and Jeonghan now wouldn’t look at either of them. All the color appeared to be drained from him, his mind scrambling.

“She is no one. Just someone I fuck on occasion,” He hated the words that came out of his mouth, even if you were someone he was fucking, but you were so much more than that. It made him feel like shit saying those things and maybe it would have been better if he just was honest. To say the words at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t do that. So he did what he did best. Deflect. “How about you two worry and focus on your own shit then try and pry into my private life because you think you know what’s going on. If I have anything important to tell you, trust me, I would fucking tell you. Nosey ass bastards.”

“You’re an asshole most of the time, but fuck are you a mother fucker when you’re like this.” Seungcheol shook his head while Joshua did the same, finishing his beer in front of him before standing. “Whatever you and this Baby has going on, do what we kept telling Shua with Luci. Fix it, or whatever, because you are unbearable right now.”

“You’re leaving?” Joshua asked, sounding surprised, and Seungcheol nodded.

“Yeah, Meg is waiting for me so I can help her with the guest list and seating arrangements. I am already pushing it by having another beer.” Seungcheol pulled on his jacket and before patting Jeonghan’s shoulder to show there were no hard feelings, but just hard enough to drill in he still thought he was an asshole. “Dinner is on me, my friends. You know where to find me if you need me. Whether I will be brain dead from all this planning is up to fate.”

With that, Seungcheol bid them both a goodbye before exiting the restaurant. Leaving the two men at the table, while Jeonghan didn’t attempt to look toward Joshua. He knew that if he did, he would be met with a look from his best friend, and he might spill everything. He couldn’t and wouldn’t do it.

Joshua already had enough on his plate then to sit around and listen to the problems he created himself. Him and his girlfriend barely got back together and were still working on their relationship. Him, Jihoon, and Hansol were helping their youngest Chan on his new album, and he was looking for a new place since his lease was up at the end of the year. Even with all that going on, he knew that Joshua would take on Jeonghan’s plight while shouldering his own. Try to help him find a solution, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want his help.

Jeonghan had been the one that everyone in their large friend group would go to, he was the problem solver as much as he was an instigator. He wasn’t used to being the one who needed to go to someone for his problems, even to his best friend. He planned to just shoulder it all, since there was nothing to help with anyways. What the two of you had was all he was going to get, and he couldn’t lose that.

“Want to go back to my apartment to hang out? Get wasted and watch T.V.?” Joshua then asked, and that was when Jeonghan looked at him. The other man had sensed his reluctance to talk so he wasn’t going to push, even if he was wanting to know what was wrong, and if it had anything to do with this Baby. But he wasn’t going to make Jeonghan tell him anything he wasn’t ready to say. Instead he offered something that he could get onboard with.

Jeonghan’s eyes flickered to his phone, checking one final time to see if you had texted, but there was nothing. Maybe you actually were asleep, and maybe a night away from the apartment might do him some good. Not sure if he wanted to spend another night knowing you were only on the other side alone in your own bed.

Passing out drunk in a random spot at his best friends sounded a hell of a lot better than falling asleep holding one of his pillows. Wishing it was you.

“Sure, why not.”

--

The timer ticked down painfully slow, seconds feeling like an eternity each, and all you could do was pace through your living room. Trying to hold down the vomit that was threatening to come up, this time from nerves and stress of waiting for you to be told what you already knew. It took everything in you not to throw up.

The sound of your phone then sounded off from the bathroom, the chosen sound blaring indicating that the countdown was now at zero.  

You didn’t actually need to see the results though, you didn’t need to look at the two sticks on the counter waiting for you. Waiting to confirm a cruel fate. You had been through it nine years previous, knowing your body well enough to feel this change, but instead of listening, you chose to be in fucking denial. That your body was just playing tricks on you, and you weren’t. You prayed that you weren’t.

Even though you knew you were.

If only you could go back. Go back all those weeks and do it differently. Not be idiots and wear a fucking condom. Or fucking remembered that you missed a few days of pills the week before. You wouldn’t be in this situation.

The sound of your alarm continued to sound off as you stared into the bathroom from where you were rooted, staring at the counter that was awaiting your fate. You never been so scared to step through that threshold, just to see a word and a set of lines mocking you.

“Just fucking rip the band aid off,” You tell yourself softly, taking a few deep breaths and tried to swallow the lump and bile that was sitting in your throat. “Maybe it’s all in your head, and you’re just fucking insane. It’s all from stress is all. Or just confirm that we are both fucking stupid idiots.”

You wish that since you were already suspecting it, that it wouldn’t feel like a punch to the chest, but it was. That word and two very clear lines mocked you worse then you thought they would, like some sick twisted joke.

Hot tears pricked your eyes, and this time you couldn’t hold back the sick that was coming now, finding yourself hunched over the toilet. Emptying the little contents you had in your stomach.

This couldn’t be happening again. You couldn’t possibly be that stupid to do this to yourself again. You should have been more careful, you should have remembered that you had forgotten to take them a few days the week before and taken the precautions. Both of you should have thought to use protection.

But you didn’t and now here you were.

Pregnant again. This time with someone you weren’t even in a relationship with and was your fucking neighbor.

Jeonghan is galaxies better than Ren’s father ever was and will be. He treated you and your son well even though he didn’t have to, but that didn’t make him yours. He couldn’t ever be yours, like you couldn’t be his. You drew that line when this all started, you were clear that this was nothing more than a good time. You both agreed. It protected everyone that way. Or at least it did.

You both got too comfortable with each other, threw out rules that was set when this all started. God sloppy and too trusting of each other. To trusting of yourselves.

You didn’t how the fuck you were going to tell him, or how he was going to react to this. He had put his trust in you, and you fucked it. You and your stupid ass desire to have him cum in you. That little claim that wasn’t for the world to see will be making itself known.

There wasn’t much in your stomach to begin with, having not been able to stomach anything other than a donut that morning in the office, so you ended up mostly dry heaving and once you managed to stop you found yourself falling back against the bathroom wall. Breaking down and you sunk to the ground. Not knowing what to do, not knowing how to take this information. You didn’t know how you were going to tell your parents, family, or even Ren.

You didn’t want your son to know what was going on with you and Jeonghan. You didn’t want him to think it was going to be anything that it was. You didn’t want to give him hope. He adored the dark haired man so much, and you didn’t want to set him up for disappointment. Now you were going to have to tell him he was going to have a sibling. And that Jeonghan was the father.

Jeonghan… fuck. The very thought of him caused you to spiral more, unable to even know how you were going to begin to tell him. How was he going to take this? Did he even want to be a father? Neither of you ever touched on that topic, it felt like it was building possible expectations that you couldn’t deliver. You told yourself that this didn’t matter to what you were doing, you weren’t going to spend forever together.

But it did.

Everything was changing, and you were hating it. This temporary change with your hours was already terrible and you couldn’t wait for it to go back to normal. Where you got to spend your nights without Ren with Jeonghan, feeling like you were more than just a mother, and truly seen. You were someone when you were around him. You were you. And now you were going to lose that.

You didn’t want to think about that, you didn’t want to think about the pain in your chest at the idea of losing him or doing all this over again. Broken and alone.

The very thought made you want to vomit all over again.

--

**Seven months ago**

“I’ll be by Sunday after work to get Ren.” You tell your mother, walking her and Ren out of your apartment, handing off his bags to her. Jeonghan had just reached the landing, appearing to be getting home from work, as you were giving your goodbyes.

“Hello, Mr. Jeonghan!” Ren called out with excitement at the sight of the dark haired man, a large smile on his young face. Jeonghan returned the greeting with a smile of his own, and a ruffle of the boy’s hair as they pass. You stood there at your door watching them disappear down the steps. Ren telling your mother all about your neighbor and his cool apartment.

“Kid-free weekend?” Jeonghan asked leaning against his door frame, his arms crossed as he watches you mimic his stance to face him. Taking in the way his dark brown hair fell over his eyes, then over his beautiful face, noticing a little mole on his cheek. He was in loose fitting pants and a black shirt, oversized on his lithe frame, and his messenger bag lazily hanging off his shoulder. There wasn’t anything special about how he looked, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Yeah, sorta. I have to work early Sunday,” You answer him, and he nods, “It does give me a break though. Plus, my parents love having him over, and would take him every weekend if I let them.”

“Got any plans? Hot date?” He teases, and all you could do was roll your eyes.

“Oh totally. I have them beating the door down. Nah, just a couple of beers, enough food from my mom to feed an army, and maybe a really bad movie or two. Just relax.” You tap your chin, as if you were pondering how many movies to watch; conveniently leaving out the plans you had with your vibrator since you had the apartment to yourself. “What about you?”

“Same. Except the food is going to be takeout, and the movie or two will be just Youtube.” He shrugs, a lazy smile playing over his lips, and you pushed your tongue into your cheek. “Had the chance to go out with some friends, but something was telling me that staying home sounded like a better idea.”

You watch him, catching the way his eyes dropped down to your green tank, and how it was showing more cleavage then you had intended. He didn’t hide the way he licked his lips at the sight of them, before reconnecting eye contact. There was a flirt to his words, it had been the last few times you had ran into each other on the landing. It was subtle at first, but now it was becoming more obvious. An invitation, as well as a request from you, and it made you consider a few things.

A very stupid idea.

“Oh, well, I was just going to see if you wanted to join me. I got plenty of beer, and enough food to feed an army. Maybe save you a some won, and have a home cooked meal. It’ll also be less food to throw out.” You suggest slowly, the offer lacing through your words, and were ringing loud and clear. “But I totally get wanting to stay home and becoming a vegetable.”

“What kind are you?”

“A potato,” You laugh with your answer.

“Nah, my friend Mingyu is. I wouldn’t say you were a vegetable, maybe something sweeter. A fruit maybe. Like a strawberry, or banana.” Jeonghan retorted, that tongue was now pressing against the corner of his mouth but did nothing to ruin or hide the lazy but flirty smile he was still wearing. “I said staying home from going out sounded better, but I didn’t have a specific home in mind, nor did I specify one. I’d love to hang out but let me get washed up and change. I’ll even bring dessert.”

“That actually works out for me. Ren left a disaster zone in there with his toys and books. And conveniently forgot to clean up like he was supposed to.” You confess, trying to not show you were a little embarrassed by it. Mess comes with kids, but it still felt embarrassing to admit. “I got to get that cleaned up, so maybe we can meet in an hour?”

“Sounds good. Meet you in an hour then.”

An hour later, Jeonghan was knocking at your door, with his own pack of beers and some ice cream that looked like he dug out of the back of his freezer. Ready to start the night. You two had spoken often on the landing, whenever you would run into each other, when Ren would find his way over to his apartment to hang out, or when he watched the boy a couple of times after that night you met. Friendly, with hidden tones of flirting, but you were not quite friends yet nor had you hung out past those chats.

It didn’t feel like it though, both quickly comfortable with each other, and settled into the evening like it was something that you had done all the time. He was easy for you to talk to, he listened while being full of stories over the years with his friends, and the flirting got heavier. Moving from subtle comments, to finding reasons to ‘brush’ up against each other.

The offer was there, it was written all over both of you with the way you looked at each other, so it wasn’t a surprise that by the time the first movie ended, he was face first between your thighs. Nor was it a surprise that he didn’t leave your apartment, mainly your bed, until well into the afternoon the next day. It quickly became a regular thing with the two of you. Spending a lot of your free nights together, with the agreement that Ren couldn’t find out and there was no possibility of something more.

The line was clear from the start. And it worked for you both, until you both started getting closer than just sex.

Some rules you agreed on were broken, you found yourself looking forward to being just in his arms, to just seeing him. It led you down a dangerous road. One where you were falling in love with him, which only opened you up to being hurt.

--

“Are you just getting home?” You stop at the top of the stairs when you caught sight of Jeonghan walking up them. Clothes wrinkled, and you didn’t recognize the shirt that he was wearing; it was actually Joshua’s because he spilt beer all over himself. Hair was shoved under a beanie, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

He looked like he had a wild night out and was doing some kind of walk of shame. The idea didn’t sit right in your gut, briefly considering this notion that he had spent the night in someone else’s bed since he couldn’t spend it in yours. It made you sick to your stomach, but you had to push that down. Even if he did, it shouldn’t matter to you because you weren’t together. It wasn’t your business, nor was it your right to feel anyway about it.

“Went back to Shua’s after dinner. Got pretty drunk and passed out on his living room floor. He passed out in the tub. It was brilliant,” Jeonghan chuckled as he reaches the top step, before rotating his shoulder slightly. Over exaggerating his wince from the sore muscles. “Not the most comfortable though. I’m so sore.”

“Well, you’re not in your early twenties anymore. Hit the age twenty-nine and you might as well be in your thirties.” You answer with a chuckle, and you didn’t miss how his hand almost reached for you. Whenever you tease him in the comforts of your apartment, Jeonghan would like to grab your wrist to pull you into his chest so he could tickle your sides until you begged him to stop; only stopping with a payment of a kiss.

But this isn’t the inside of your apartments, this is the landing in front of them. Even if you were the only two apartments on this floor, it wasn’t like a neighbor would see either of you, but it crossed one of the many lines you drew. One of the few lines you held firm too. Going out to dinner or somewhere to hang out was one thing, something friends do, but touching, holding hands, or even kissing was only for the apartments.

You knew he hated it, and you did too, but you already let too many lines get blurred. Putting you in this exact position you are in now.

“True, I think I might need a massage though,” He teases back, the flirty suggestion heavy in his tone until he saw you were dressed in a pair of jeans, a black shirt, boots, and your large winter jacket; instead of your usual little tank dress you wore when home. You had your bag hanging from your shoulder, and an earbud in, the other in your hand. “Where you going?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I… I have some errands I got to run, and then I’m gonna help my mom out with the restaurant for a few hours. Dad’s hips acting up where he can hardly move and the most he can do is run the till.” You scramble to give him an answer, unable to tell him the truth just yet, and Jeonghan caught that you wouldn’t meet his gaze. The made him take a chance to reach for your forward to catch your chin. Tilting your head up, he made you look at him. Your eyes meeting and you had to look away quickly, scared he would know just by your eyes. “Jeonghan… not here…”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asked, and you nod a little too quickly. Too quickly and it looked like he was having a hard time believing you. At all. The doubt was heavy in his voice as he said your name softly, and you tried to look everywhere but him. “Why are you lying to me?”

“I actually don’t need to tell you when I come and go, or where I go, it’s not really your business and should be happy I fucking tell you anything.” You grimace as you instantly regretted snapping at him like that, more so when you saw the taken aback look on his face. “I’m sorry. I’m not in the best of moods. I didn’t sleep very well last night, and I wasn’t exactly planning to spend my day the way I am.”

“If you aren’t feeling good still, then you need to stay home. Not push yourself. It only prolongs getting better.” He tells you, his tone as tense as his jaw was at that moment. It was his turn to not look at you and you had to swallow back what felt like a fresh wave of tears. You thought you ran out of those hours ago.

“I’m okay, I promise. I actually have been feeling better, I have just been under a lot of stress with work and didn’t sleep well. I’m about to grab an energy drink at the store.” You cast a glance toward him, knowing that you were going to have to tell him as soon as possible. Even if you aren’t going to be in the right frame of mind, maybe spending an evening with him again will help. Maybe it will be easy to tell him. “Maybe if you are up to it, we can hang out when I get home… I miss hanging out with you.”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a long moment, looking at a spot on the wall before turning toward you. Regarding you with a steady gaze, and you weren’t sure if he was considering your offer or if he was just trying to decide if he wanted to tell you to go fuck yourself. Which you deserved from your comment. Then he finally spoke, “I miss hanging out with you too.”

Hearing that almost broke you, your chest aching and bursting at the same time. He has told you this before in text, when you both were wishing each other a good night, but it was always different to hear him actually say the words. You needed to hear them, but with what you were going to be telling him when you did hang out, you wondered how much longer he would feel that way.

“Just text me when you get home,” He nodded as he spoke, his words and jaw were still tense, but at least he wasn’t refusing to see you. Reaching out, you squeezed his arm gently even though all you wanted to do was throw yourself into his arms. You let your touch linger for moments longer then you should’ve, eyes glossy. Jeonghan noticed this too, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” You answer, finally pulling your hand back, starting down the stairs. “I’ll text you when I’m home!”

You didn’t look back to see if he was still standing there, even though you wanted to.

--

You hurried through the crowded streets to your destination, trying to not run into anyone and spill the two hot drinks in your hands. You were late, running into Jeonghan had thrown you back several minutes and then the coffee shop you stopped at was packed, and it didn’t help your already guilty feeling mood. Your cousin was doing you a huge favor by opening the clinic for you and your predicament, after getting a panicked text from you once you were able to pull yourself up the floor. The least you could do was be on time.

“You’re late,” Wenhyun muttered when he unlocked the front of the clinic to let you in, his voice sounding more tired than annoyed. His short hair sticking in all directions, wearing a pair of track pants and a hoodie, and didn’t look like he owned the small clinic.

“I’m sorry, I got caught in line at the coffee shop. I texted you my ETA,” You retorted, handing him the hot coffee you had gotten him. The only payment he would accept from you, or any member of your family in fact. Originally you had texted him asking him if he had an opening that Monday, when the clinic was open, but he didn’t want to wait. “Thanks for seeing me. Are you sure you’re okay with seeing me today?”

“Shut up,” He mumbled motioning you to follow him to one of the examination rooms, drinking his coffee as he went, “My mom has been helping out through the week, and I am pretty sure you don’t want your parents to find out through her. It’s better this way, and she won’t see that your charts been pulled. Plus, if you break down and shit again, I can comfort you then have to rush you out or hide you in my office until after I see the next patient.”

Wenhyun was over ten years older than you, son to your mom’s older sister, but he was more of a big brother to you. He had been the one who had confirmed your pregnancy with Ren and saw what was happening with his dad before anyone else. He had also been the reason for where you were now, getting you and your son out of the situation you were in. Your apartment, your job, and even Ren’s tuition was because of him. You were the youngest of five cousins, with him being the oldest and by default like a leader of you all, and you were always his favorite of them all. Even his own siblings.

You barely sat your bag and hot tea down when he was shoving a cup in your hands.

“I don’t think I have to tell you what to do,” He points in the direction of the bathroom, cutting you off before you could even form the words, “From what you told me in that rushed ass text, date of conception, last missed period, the pregnancy tests we already know it’s very likely going to be positive. I still got to do my own test though. It also gives me time to finish get everything together. We’ll be doing an ultrasound too, but that’s gonna cost you.”

“How much is it going to cost?”

“I’d say you’re first born child, but Ren is a little too attached to you at this point, so I’ll just settle for another coffee. Now go,” Wenhyun waves you off, and you do as he requested. Returning a few minutes later with the cup partially filled and closed. “Go sit.”

You take a seat on the examination table, wringing your fingers together nervously.

“Who’s the guy?” Your cousin suddenly asked, his back to you but you knew what he was doing. Doing his own pregnancy test. “It’s not…”

“Oh, god no. I haven’t seen him since he tried to crash Ren’s sixth birthday. Last I heard he was bumming it somewhere in Busan with some woman, but that was almost a year ago. It’s…” You trailed off and he turns to look at you. There was a look of realization on it, because you never said out loud what the two of you were doing. Your mother had suspected, but you never said anything.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but can you at least tell me that you’re okay. And safe?” He didn’t push you, but there was worry written all over his features.

“I am more than safe, I’m the safest I probably have ever been when I am with him. I just… never actually told anyone about us,” You confess.

“Is he a secret boyfriend? Or a friend?” He took the chance to turn back around to check the results.

“I guess you can say he’s a friend, and also… my neighbor,” You said the last words slowly, and this time he whipped around with a look of shock.

“Excuse me,” You winced when your full name fell from his lips, in a shocked but scolding manner, “Are you actually telling me that you’re fucking sleeping with your neighbor?”

“Yeah?” Finally looking away from his disappointed gaze, “His name is Jeonghan. He helps me out with Ren sometimes, letting him hang out at his place on the days I’m running late from work, or if I have to work late and Mom can’t help keep an eye on him. He’s literally Ren’s favorite person in the world… and… he’s also mine. We been seeing and sleeping together for seven months now, mostly when Ren is at my parents. We’re normally pretty careful, but sometimes we…” You didn’t continue that sentence, sparing your cousin the details. He was still family after all, “Let’s just say we became Icarus after a few beers and flew too close to the sun.”

“I prescribe you birth control, don’t you take it consistently?”

“I normally do that too, but…”

“What? Forget because of life? Work? Stress?”

“Yeah…”

“While I do understand this, life can get hectic, it still isn’t a good enough excuse. As your doctor, I have to stress the importance of using protections. More than one form if needed, because I am about to confirm you are in fact pregnant!” He tells you, exasperation heavy with every word, and you could feel yourself deflating like a child in trouble, “From the information you provided me, I would put you at around twelve weeks. I’m gonna have to have you come in sometime this week to get blood tests. Fucking hell, why didn’t you come to me sooner?! When you started experiencing symptoms. Or even, I don’t know, when you missed your period?! Even if it was just to rule it out!”

“Because when the symptoms started, work started getting more hectic with Gunyu going on this month long cruise. I thought it was from stress,” You realize that all you were doing now was grasping at excuses at this point, and Wenhyun knew it too. You knew better, you should have ruled this out before anything else, but instead you chose to ignore the obvious. Trying to hide behind work, “Or I am just stupid.”

“You are stupid, but as your cousin, I need to think that” He retorts, and you give him a dirty look. “Does he know?”

“No,” You tell him, finally feeling your face wet from tears that were now falling involuntarily, “I only found out last night, and I saw him briefly in front of the apartments. Didn’t think ‘oh hey, how are you? I am heading to the clinic to confirm I am carrying your child, okay call you later!’ was a smart idea. I wanted to see you first about this before I tell him. I’m telling him tonight.”

“Are you in love with him?” This question took you off guard.

“We’re not together.”

“You don’t have to be with someone to be in love with them, don’t deflect. I asked, are you in love with him?”

Hope you enjoyed! Part 2 is almost done being written and Hoshi's installment will be out soon! If you like my series, and want to be updated when I post, I am created a tag list.

More one shots and drabbles coming.

[ravennaortiz]

hello again :3 i was wondering if i could make another request for juicy january? i was hoping. i could request something with dark!jealous!juice and a bit of domestic abuse? whatever level you are comfortable with is fine, i don’t wanna push your boundaries! maybe reader was out late at a bar for the first time in a LONG time and left their baby with juice, and came home smelling like another guy’s cologne? and juice automatically thinks the worst. maybe he grabs her hair or pushes her down, making sure she knows her place. feel free to change any details! thank you!

Love Gone Sour

Summary: You and Juice had always been the talk of the clubhouse and Charming as a whole. You two had a love and relationship that everyone wanted. A love that was unbreakable, untouchable and to last forever.....until one night it all went sour.

As always 18+. Domestic Violence

Juice grinned as he watched you shoot finger guns into the camera at the front door. He shook his head as he said goodnight to the guys he had been gaming with and turned off his game station. By the time he had cleaned up his gaming space he could hear you softly singing party in the usa as you made your way up the stairs.

Grabbing your keys from the front door he closed and locked it. Grabbing your discarded jacket as he programmed the alarm code in.

“Juicy” you called from the top of the stairs you had been crawling up.

“Yeah babe?” inquired Juice with an amused grin. He loved seeing you carefree like this. Ever since your guys son had been born both of you had been wrapped up in him. Learning how to be parents and keep a living being alive. Neither of you had had much time for getting out especially you as you had been breast feeding until a couple of months ago.

“I love you” you called as you laid back, letting your legs fall open, the skirt you wore giving him a peek of your pink thong.

“I love you too” he called as he started to climb the stairs grabbing your discarded heels as he went. Laughing as he watched you flip over and wiggle up onto your knees. The glint of mischief in your eyes telling him he was going to be in for it tonight. You then giggled as you took off in a weird stumble, run crawl thing down the hall to where your son was asleep.

Juice heard his phone ring from the bedroom and went to see who it was as he heard you talking to your son through the baby monitor. God how he had lucked out with you he thought to himself. The urge to put another baby in you as he watched you gently caress your sons cheek before blowing him a kiss and stumbling out of the room was high. Juice hit ignore on his phone when he saw it was Jax. The club knew better than to call this late now that he was a dad. He had been firm on needing to be home by six every night and not being called for club business after eight.

By the time you were in the doorway to your room you were clothed in just the pink thong. Juice stared in awe at you as you swayed unsteadily, you never failed to take his breath away after all these years. No other woman had or would ever hold a candle to you.

“Figured… you  just pull em to the side daddy” you hiccupped and giggled as you attempted to sexy walk to the bed.

“Think we may need to sober you up a bit love” laughed Juice as you tried crawling up the bed where he had sat down. Juice took pity on you and leaned to grab you and pull you up.

Anything you were saying was lost as he caught a scent of cologne. Overpowering male cologne. Cologne that was not fucking his. Juices heart rate sped up and so did his breathing.

“How could you” he growled his grip on your arms tight.

“What?” you started but were caught off as Juice grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back making you cry out. His eyes traveling your neck looking for marks.

“Juice your hurting me” you cried as tears welled and spilled down your cheeks.

“You’re hurt?” snapped Juice as he pushed you away from him roughly. The force and your drunken nature sent you falling off the bed and onto your wrist hard. You cried out as pain shot up your arm roughly. The only sounds you sobs and Juices phone as it rang again. “I let you go out and this is how you repay me? After all I’ve done for you?” he continued his angry tirade as he came around the bed grabbing you by your hair again. He muttered incoherently as he dragged you across the carpet, your skin burning as he went. He ignored your protest as he made his way to the bathroom, giving the door a sharp kick that had it flying into the wall hard enough to leave a hole.

“Fuck another man then come home to me and my son smelling like him?” he continued as he let go off you and turned the shower on. “Stop crying before you wake my child” he growled as he turned around grabbing your jaw roughly. Your eyes locked on his angry brown ones. You felt like he was burning you alive as he looked at you. Your head was swimming with alcohol and confusion.

“Juice…baby” you murmured as you raised your uninjured hand to try and caress his cheek but he just slapped it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me with your dirty whore hands” he growled before standing up and dragging you into the shower. He held you by your head on the floor as he poured body wash all over you. Grabbing your scrub brush he scrubbed your skin roughly making you push and flail to get away. The ringing of the doorbell could just barely be heard over your cries and his orders of shut the fuck up.

“Stay here” he growled as he let go of you and turned the water off. Tossing a towel onto you he stormed out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

“What?” he demanded as he yanked the door open. A wide eyed Jax staring at him.

“Your girl left her purse and phone in the van. Figured she would want it tonight not tomorrow. No need to bite my fucking head off” laughed Jax as he held out your purse and phone.

As he took the items he caught a whiff of the cologne again. Cold dread filled his stomach as he looked up at Jax.

“Fuck. It was your turn for ladies night pick up. I gotta go” stated Juice as he quickly shut the door in Jax’s face and bolted up the stairs. What had he done he thought to himself as he crashed into the bathroom tossing your purse and phone to the floor.

“Baby, baby I’m so sorry. Baby come here” he soothed as he pulled your sobbing form off the tub floor and into his arms. His heart breaking as you flinched and tensed. Mumbling please don’t hurt me anymore as you continued to cry and shake.

Next Day

“So what happened again?” asked Tara as you sat in the exam room. Your wrist swollen and angry looking.

“Fell in the shower. Couldn’t get up and kinda fell again” you mumbled trying your best to maintain eye contact with your friend. You knew if she became suspicious she would tell Jax and then who knows what would happen. You were used to Juice being jealous and possessive and had always found it charming and loving. Until last night when you were the one in the hitting range. In all the years you two had been together he had never said a hard word to you let alone laid a hand on you. You didn’t know what to do. If it happens once it’ll happen again is what they always say right?

Two Weeks Later

“Laddie” stated Chibs as he, Jax and Gemma stepped into Juices house. The place was a mess. Like Juice who was busy feeding his son who kept smacking the spoon away.

“Did she?” started Juice as he eagerly stood up. Hoping you would be behind them. His smile fading as he saw you were not.

“Tell us what really happened baby. She wouldn’t have just left for no reason. She would never leave you or the baby without a fight” stated Gemma as she sat next to him and patted his knee.

“I….I…..” started Juice as he started crying. “I hurt her and she left. She left cause she was scared of me. She told me she would have taken our son but she knew I’d search for them if she did. She doesn’t know I love her and it was an accident. You guys have to help me find her and fix this” begged Juice as the three exchanged looks.

[chaotic-orphan]

hello there!

ive been scouraging whumpblr end to end and stumbled across your masterpiece of a story- heroic betrayal. I have become rather deeply obsessed with your beautiful writing, and was merely wondering, if you would, perhaps, by any chance, write another wonderful part to the story, perchance? >o<

Heroic Betrayal (XI)

Read part one // Masterpost // continued from here

A little Flynn centric chapter? Mind into the betraying, backstabbing bastard?? Hmm?? More likely than you think👀 also… so sorry it’s late, I was on an adventure today <3

[whoops sorry, I meant to publish this in reply to the ask - which, thank you Nonny for reaching out, I'm delighted you enjoyed and you found it at a great time because the next part was to be updated today! XD]

*~*~*~*~*

Flynn led Morgan with his hand in hers, an arm around her waist in case her legs buckled or a sudden drop in energy gripped her. He wanted to be sure she stayed standing and if he she couldn’t, make sure she was close enough for him to catch and keep her on her feet.

Halfway up the stairs Morgan stopped walking. Flynn looked at her.

“Why— I thought we were watching a movie,” she said with a pout, her pupils nearly eclipsing the beautiful colour of her eyes. It turned Flynn’s stomach.

“We are,” he told her, forcing a smile on his face. “I have a TV in my room.”

Morgan stumbled back a step with a shake of her head. Her eyes widened as she almost slipped off the step with a startled sharp breath. Flynn hooked his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her flush against him before she could fall backwards.

Her wide eyes exposed her blown pupils, her brows crinkled in relief as she gazed up at him. “Thank you,” she breathed.

Flynn’s heart stuttered in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Of course.”

He started making the way up the stairs again when Morgan protested again. Her brows furrowed. “But… the movie,” she said, her voice pained.

Flynn nodded. “We can watch it in my room,” he repeated patiently. Morgan shook her head and went to pull back again. Flynn’s grip tightened. “Morgan—”

“Please,” she said, her voice light and airy and painted with a deep sadness. “Please, I don’t want to go back to a room, can’t we— can we…” she trailed off, her brows forming a groove over her eyes, casting them in shadows. Her eyes themselves glazed over, losing her trail of thought. “I…”

Flynn didn’t need her to explain what she was about to say. He could feel her confusion, the fogginess of her mind clouded by the painkillers Supervillain gave her. He clenched his jaw, hands tightening around Morgan. She didn’t… fuck, she didn’t deserve this. Any of this.

“We can watch it downstairs,” he said softly. Morgan’s confusion cleared, replaced with a light happiness like the sun that revealed itself from the parted clouds after a storm.

“Really?” She asked, excitement replacing the fog. Flynn swallowed.

“Yeah. Really.”

They started their descent which was more difficult than their ascent, but they made it to the bottom without Flynn having to carry Morgan down. Something he knew she would hate him for when she sobered up tomorrow. God, what a mess. He never… he never thought that Dad would take it this far, that he—

Flynn never saw him as terrifying as he did today. When Morgan just had to keep pushing until he snapped. Flynn should have… he should have done more! Done something, stopped him. If he knew— if he knew what the result would be he—

He almost scoffed at himself. Those were a cowards thoughts, something he and Morgan could agree on tomorrow when she was herself again and hating him. But he didn’t want her to hate him. He wanted to be like how they were, even though he knew it was impossible as he led her past the basement and across the front door into their giant living room.

Morgan paused again, gasped. “Holy… what the…” Flynn looked at her and he wished he didn’t. The child like awe on her face at seeing Flynn’s favourite room in the house was something he wished he could picture and frame and hold forever in his head.

Morgan was always stunning, but looking at her without any of the stress of life on her shoulders, without any hatred or pain in her expression Flynn felt his chest tighten at the sight. The sun shining in from the floor to ceiling windows bounced off her silvery white hair, making it glow like a halo around her head. It bounced off her pale skin too, making her radiant and other worldly as she took in everything.

Flynn turned his head to follow her line of sight, hoping to find the wonderment she felt, but his gaze always trailed back to Morgan. She was far more stunning to look at.

“Your TV is massive,” she said with a soft laugh, as if in disbelief. She started walking and Flynn walked with her, but it was as if the room had steadied her, like it put her under a different trance and lured her towards the beige leather couches a few feet in front of the TV.

She giggled as she settled into the couch, her eyes taking a mischievous glint that Flynn registered too late. She pulled at his hand and yanked him down. Caught by surprise, Flynn lost his balance. One hand shot out to the back of the couch so he didn’t fall straight on her while Morgan laughed under him, grinning as he steadied himself with a knee on the couch beside her hip.

“Morgan,” he said, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. She grinned up at him, eyes glinting with the same mischief as before. She wrapped her legs around his hips and moved him until he was lying on top of her on the couch, supported by his elbows. “Morgan, I—”

She shook her head. Her expression softened as she reached a hand up to cup his cheek. Flynn swallowed as he felt the calluses from her palms stroke his cheek from years of training with her blades. He should get up, he should get up.

He should really get up.

He didn’t want to get up.

“I missed you,” she whispered. Quietly, almost imperceptible, but Flynn heard it and it may as well have been thunder cracking across the sky for how loud her words were. His brows furrowed over his eyes, eyes pained as he looked down at her.

“Morgan…” Flynn said, his voice cracking with emotion. He knew the subtle shift in her expression that she wore when she was going to kiss him. She leaned up but Flynn stopped her. He grabbed her wrist, gently pulled it from his face and pressed a kiss to her knuckles as he sat back on her hips, knees straddling either side of her.

A look of hurt flashed across her features and she turned her head away, a tinge of red bloomed on her cheeks. Flynn swallowed the lump in his throat as he climbed off her. She curled in on herself as he did, staring down dazed at her right hand that was wrapped in thick bandages.

“What kind of movie would you like?” Flynn asked, grabbing the remotes and coming back to the couch to sit beside her. Morgan just stared, slightly flexing the tops of her fingertips.

“He stabbed me through the hand,” she murmured, her voice distant, faraway. Flynn closed his eyes. Gods. “I… I can’t feel the connection to my blades.”

Her eyes flashed to Flynn’s, ensnaring his attention within her gaze.

“I… I feel empty, wrong. Like he… he- severed—” her bottom lip trembled as she cut herself off and she turned back to look at her hand, at her twitching fingers. The only movement she could make. “I can’t feel them.”

Flynn stood and turned to kneel in front of her. Watery green eyes met his, looking more like glass that was so thin even a breath could shatter them.

He grabbed her good hand in his. “Morgan, it’s just whatever painkillers he gave you, okay? Your body is exhausted and it probably doesn’t have any energy left to use your powers.”

“But… but I can always feel them,” she whispered. And her voice. Oh gods, she sounded so scared. “There’s-” she gasped, shaking her head as she started to sit up. “No, no, no. There’s something wrong. He… he—”

Flynn followed her up into her sitting, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“He… oh gods, Flynn,” she said. She couldn’t contain the tears anymore as she broke down. Tears that had pooled in her eyes spilled over her eyelids and down her face in sudden, swift streams. She lurched forwards and wrapped her arms around Flynn’s neck and pulled at him, pulled him closer, sobbing into his shoulder as he held her. He put his hand over her shoulder to avoid her bandaged head and pulled her from the couch into his lap.

“I can’t— I can’t… I can’t, Flynn, I- I…” she whimpered while Flynn held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. He felt his own face burn with shame as he heard her cries and the violence of her back convulsing with the force of her wails.

“I know, I know. It’s just the drugs, Morg—”

Morgan pulled back sharply, her eyes glistening with tears as she shook her head. “No, I can’t… I can’t stay here anymore. Please… please, I can’t. I- I-”

Flynn was glad when Morgan closed the distance between them and buried her head in his shoulder again so she couldn’t see the expression on his face. If she could she would have seen his heart break on his face, his guilt draining all colour from his cheeks followed by the familiar sharp, burning red of shame.

He tightened his arms around her. He reached for her mind, and regretted it instantly. It was all jumbled chaos and fretful, fleeting thoughts. If he could just… just lessen her pain for a little while, so she didn’t have to feel so—

No.

No, gods fucking no. That was so wrong. So sick. It wasn’t Morgan he cared about if he did that. That would only be good for him. She deserved to express her emotions exactly as she felt them.

How many times had he thought to carelessly traipse through her head like he was welcomed there? Even before this, Morgan barely tolerated it, but now… in her state, it would be a betrayal more monstrous than bringing her here.

He felt so helpless to soothe her. What could he say? I’ll help you escape? I’ll get you out of here? He… he couldn’t…

He…

Morgan needed to be out of the way if Supervillain’s plan was to go ahead, and it must. It would only be a few weeks, a couple months at most and then Morgan would be let go. She would be released and all this would be like a bad dream.

Flynn could… he could make it seem like it was just a bad dream she had. If she wanted, and only if she wanted. He couldn’t— no he wouldn’t use his power on her again without her permission. Dad and Villain took what they wanted from her, and forced her to do what they wanted. Flynn had to be different.

If she was to ever trust him again, he had to be better.

Morgan lay boneless against Flynn’s chest, her sobs died and gave way to heavy deep breaths. Flynn held her tight, cradled to his chest like a child his chin resting on her head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Flynn blinked surprised. She drew lines with her fingers over his breastbone, tracing invisible patterns over the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for what I said about your mother… I was… I was angry and I—”

Flynn tightened his arms around and let out a sigh. “You don’t have to apologise, Morgan. I know. I understand.”

“I shouldn’t have said it,” she said, her voice clogged with the thick, viscous emotion that sticks to the throat like toffee and early morning grogginess that follows crying. “Especially in anger, I knew it would hurt you.”

Flynn said nothing for a moment. What was there to say? Should he apologise for all the awful things that he’s said and done to her, they’d be here for hours.

“You were hurting too, Morgan,” Flynn said softly. “It makes sense that you’d lash out with words. It’s the only thing you can do here.”

“It was below the belt.”

“And what Dad did to you isn’t?” Flynn asked with a scoff.

Morgan let out a breath of a laugh. “I guess, but I—”

“You don’t have to apologise to me, Morg. I’m sorry that I was distant and cold. I know that I’m your only friend here and I should’ve—”

A rough palm on his face silenced him. He looked down at Morgan, into her crystal clear green eyes that were as magnificent as the dead sea. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Her lips were salty from tears and Flynn wanted nothing more than to kiss her back fervently but she was high on pain meds and she would hate him if they—

She pulled away after a short, sweet moment and Flynn stared down at her, his shock evident on his face. She smiled warmly at him.

“I won’t give out to you tomorrow for it,” she said softly. “I just… needed to. I don’t want to fight anymore. I—”

She glanced down at her bandaged hand, wiggled her fingertips. “I understand now. I get it. I’ll stop fighting everything.”

She looked at him through her lashes. “I’ll stop fighting you. We can… we can go back to how things were, can’t we?”

Flynn stared at her, lost for words as her eyes glazed with tears again. “Please, I’m— I need you to—”

Flynn cut her off by pressing his lips to hers, fiercely. Wet tears hit Flynn’s cheeks as he stood, catching Morgan’s legs under the knees. She pulled back and gasped at the sudden movement, as Flynn turned and lay Morgan down on the couch. Her smile twitched at the sides, drawing up at the corners into a smirk, hands hooked around his neck and pulled him down on top of her again.

Flynn grinned against her lips, hand on her hip as hers wandered into the back of his hair and pulled him down further. They pulled away, breaths mingling between the inch of space between them.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her and Morgan swallowed.

“I missed your hair,” she said with a giggle, twirling a piece of his fiery red hair between her fingers. Flynn smirked.

“Is that all you missed?”

She hooked a leg around his thigh and pulled their bodies impossibly closer. She laughed at the surprise that blanketed his expression before smashing her lips to his again, smiling against them. He tightened his grip on her hip as his other hand travelled to her cheek before he broke the kiss.

“No,” she said. “I missed your smile.” Flynn swore his lungs stopped working as she reached up and traced her thumb over his bottom lip. Something shifted in her expression as she stared up at him, her eyes suddenly faraway. “Your real smile.”

“Morgan…” he said with a sigh. She closed her eyes as he took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips.

“I know,” she whispered. “I… I know. I know now, I do. For you, for Sidekick,” she glanced at her bandaged hand. “For… for myself, I know now. I promise.”

Flynn had the sudden urge to break something. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t have to know. She shouldn’t have to be here, but she… if he could ask her to stay out of it, and she would, they would have never have had to go to these extreme measures.

Flynn didn’t say any of that. Instead he gazed down at her and smiled, exposing his dimple. “What movie do you want to watch?”

She grinned up at him.

Flynn closed his eyes, his head hanging. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes!” She said, her eyes alive with mischief. “I get to choose. You asked me, and Supervillain said I can’t sleep so…”

“Anything but that, Morgan, please.”

“If I have to suffer here, so do you.” Flynn laughed as he climbed off her and grabbed the remotes.

“Fair enough.”

They watched Twilight. Halfway through New Moon, Morgan was cuddled up to Flynn’s chest, buried under a thick blue throw blanket, her bandaged head resting on his shoulder.

Flynn sensed Supervillain before he walked in. Flynn unconsciously tightened his hold around Morgan’s waist. He checked his watch that Villain and Flynn got him for his birthday when Flynn was sixteen.

“It has been long enough. She should be fine.” Flynn kept his eyes on the TV as he spoke. “I see you’ve made up. That’s progress.”

“You went too far today, Dad,” Flynn said, his voice hard. “Stabbing her through her hand—”

“I went as far as I had to.”

Flynn turned his head, eyes narrowed as he caught Supervillain’s impassive stare. He knew where Villain got that look from, and he hated it.

“You could’ve just threatened—”

“Her beloved Sidekick?” Supervillain asked, raising his brows. Flynn scoffed and glanced back at the TV. “She is… a very spirited girl, Flynn. Anything less than what I did today wouldn’t have gotten through to her. You and I both know that.”

Flynn clenched his jaw, a surge of helpless fury ran through his veins like a bush fire. “You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I said that I would do whatever is necessary to ensure she doesn’t interfere.” Flynn glared at the television as Supervillain walked towards the couch. He stood directly in front of the screen so Flynn’s glare was on his chest instead. “Don’t forget what side you’re on, son.”

Supervillain’s eyes slid to Morgan who slept peacefully while they spoke. “She is a very beautiful girl. I understand your love for her… it was the same I had for your mother,” he said softly. His eyes found Flynn’s again, a glint in his eyes like metal threatened to cut Flynn. “But just know, that if I had merely threatened her today, she would still despise you for what you did to her. Remember that while you’re scorning me in your head.”

Flynn blinked at him, like a toddler caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Supervillain’s lips twitched and he shot Flynn a wink. “A parent always knows. I’ll leave you both.”

Flynn looked down at Morgan, his expression heavier than before. “And Flynn, for the record,” Supervillain added. “I am happy to see you’ve made up.”

Flynn didn’t reply.

Happy for me, Flynn thought bitterly, or happy for you.

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill @0eggdealer @watermelonrandom @tippytappytyping @swift-perseides @gloriousqueen101 @isnortkoolaidpowderteehee @jumpywhumpywriter @bitter-space @lumpofsand

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@sunflower1000 @whump-till-ya-jump

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I came across this take, thought you'd probably have stuff to say about it.

"The character that is the first in the group to trust Zuko?" Aang. Literally Aang. We see it in the Blue Spirit episode, and THAT was the "we could have been friends" moment that Zuko spent nearly all the show secretly obsessing with, to the point that he had a vision of himself BECOMING Aang.

"Sokka was the one in favor of leaving to die" BULLSHIT, Katara was agreeing with him fully, once again, AANG was the one going "What fuck, no"

"Katara trusted him twice during book 2" She trusted him once, in Crossroads of Destiny, immediately paid the price for it. If you're going to count The Chase, you gotta count it as EVERYBODY trusting Zuko (and Iroh).

"The character who Zuko emotionally connects with?" Literally everyone in the Gaang, hence the life-changing field trips (and the talk with Toph in Ember Island). Not to mention IROH, MAI, and even Azula at their old Beach House.

"The character Zuko feel safest letting his guard down" Literally what fucking guard? Zuko has ALWAYS struggled to NOT let his emotions boil over and he has the recurrent problem of saying literally ANYTHING that comes to mind, and hurting the people he cares about, because that boy has NO chill. He literally "talked to Aang" in the North Pole when Aang's soul had literally left his body. That boy went up a mountain just to scream at God to fuck around and find out. What. Fucking. Guard. Did he "let down" around Katara?

"The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma?" Iroh. Literally, that's his entire role in the story. Other people had important moments with him (his mom, Aang, Mai, and yes, even Katara) but IROH is the one with him through it all and the one he literally thinks of as his "shoulder angel" telling him right from wrong, healthy from unhealthy. His "fuck you, dad" speech to Ozai literally included "Uncle was a much better father than you." Katara had fuck all to do with Zuko's healing journey, because he had ALREADY mostly dealt with his trauma by the time they actually became friends - or even people who had friends in common. She had nothing to do with his healing/redemption arc.

"The character known for showing most compassion to others?" Katara does fit, but so does Aang, and (depending on what part of the story we're on and as long as your name is not "Azula") so does Iroh. And even if Katara was, undeniably, THE most compassionate one, with no one else even coming close to it - how does that translate to "Therefore she and Zuko are meant to be?" He is not the only person who needed/deserved compassion, nor is that all it would take for him to fall in love with someone.

"The character who primarely bears the burden of having to step-up into a parental role?" Yes, adultification was indeed a big source of pain in Katara's life (even if the Gaang, and especially Aang, brought some childhood joy/freedom back into her life). But WHAT THE FUCK does that have to do with Zuko? He's nobody's replacement parent. Hell, he needed someone to step up and parent him, hence Iroh being part of the story. He had a fucking regression in his emotional maturity after being physically abused. WHERE is the connection between this character and Katara's character?

"The character who represses their emotions for the sake of others?" Literally could not be Katara. One thing she DOES have in common with Zuko is wearing her heart on her sleeve. Even when she does try to surpress her emotions (see her mixed feelings about Hakoda's return) EVERYONE can immediately tell something is up because it affects everything that she does.

This "Katara repressed her emotions" and "Zuko only lets his guard down around her" nonsense is THE perfect exemple of why I say Zutarians don't like the actual canon dynamic between Zuko and Katara (and maybe dislike even the characters themselves). They literally took these characters that feel intensily and express themselves without much (or any) thinking because they're pure feel and instinct - and replaced them with a generic pair of characters that are "tough" and try suffocate their emotions so nothing can hurt them because that's a popular romance trope, even though it's clearly the wrong trope for them.

No one hates the true "zutara" dynamic quite like zutarians themselves, that's why they're constantly trying to re-write history.

[unholyyconfessions]

Dean trying to find people that look like Sam bc i love that concept

When he was young he remembered to look more at models in magazines with little waist and skinny legs when Sammy hit puberty. Jerking off at the sight of little buts and coming so fucking hard thinking about big hands and long fingers around his cock.

He lied about his first time. It wasn't with a tall blond bimbo with big tits (don't misunderstood, he really likes a good fuck with a blond bimbo) but it was with a skinny brunette with a cute pixie cut. She didn't have so many curves and her tits were small. And those weren't the only things that attracted him to her. She had big eyes complemented by long eyelashes and a beautiful smile that showed her dimples.

As soon as they finished, she lay down next to him to cuddle and it felt so... wrong. Her body didn't fit with his as it should, she didn't feel right. She didn't feel like Sam.

After that night he tried to stop, no more brunettes, no more skinny limbs, no more big hazel eyes or smile with dimples. No more girls that looked like Sam. Even if he wanted so badly to sink in the fantasy.

Seeing Sammy should be enough. Sammy pouting when Dad denied something to him and his smile when Dean secretly gave it to him. Sam showing his long legs in summer days and him wearing Dean's hoodies in autumn. The way he breathed in the training, how his cheek painted red. His pink nipples that Dean had the luxury to see when Sam was out of the shower. The warmth of his body when he cuddles with Dean on winter nights. Yeah, that should be enough. It has to be enough.

It was.

But when Sammy ran away something switched inside him, the hollow inside his chest, in his /heart/ was to big to care about what was right and wrong.

After some time the girls weren't enough so his gaze drifted slowly around the boys. It was the closest and at the same time the furthest thing from Sam. It was fatal.

Dean really wanted to me make it work, close his eyes and imagine /him/ right there with him. But some boys had hazel eyes but didn't look at him right. Some had the perfect mouth but the voice wasn't right. Some had the skinny complexity but the skin was too cold or too warm. They weren't right no matter how much he wanted them to be.

But then Dad disappeared and he felt more alone than any other moment in his life.

He almost choked himself with his spit when he saw Sammy under the light of his dorm.

Of course he saw Sammy when him and dad checked on him. But it was at a considerable distance, Sam was a good hunter and they should not be detected. He couldn't see the changes so far away.

He was massive. He felt it when they struggled on the floor but saw it? His brain short-circuited. Strong arms and big shoulders. Tall and with a defined body for sure. And his chest? Those tits were huge. Dean tongue felt so dry, his hands were itchy because they wanted to feel and he couldn't take his eyes away.

Dean couldn't get hard right now, he shouldn't.

Then Jess appeared and he tried to play it cool when he snapped to reality again.

After the tragedy Dean knew he shouldn't have felt this happy but he couldn't help it, no when he had his Sammy around once again. But it didn't last, just as he was happy he also felt miserable.

He almost forgot how hard it was to live with Sam again. His desire was always slow burning inside of him, sometimes taking the best of him out of missions, but with Sam next to him Dean felt like he was set on fire. Everything burned and nothing -nobody- give a real release.

Sam looked at Dean and him felt so /right/ that he felt his heart beat so strong that was painful. His voice makes Dean feel tingling all inside. When Dean made Sam laugh he felt so proud that his chest couldn't contain it fully. To his horror it wasn't enough anymore.

He wanted-no, he needed more, he needed to felt his hands caress Sam's long hair, he needed to memorize Sam's body with his hands with his eyes with his mouth. He needs to kiss, to bite, to swallow every little thing from Sam.

Finding someone new wasn't on the table anymore because he can't deny himself anymore.

Idk where i wanted to get with this but yeah

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 9

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Tuesday)

Masterlist

The plan was very simple.

Since Pedri's parents always closed the bar on Wednesdays to rest, his brother would tell them an emergency had happened and that they needed to go check it. But there would be no emergency, only Pedri waiting for them hiding behind the counter to surprise them while I filmed it all from the kitchen. 

“Pedri, can you please stop fidgeting? You are making me nervous.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry” he says. “It's just… I can't wait to see their reaction. I hope I don't give them a heart attack.”

“Oh, shut up” I say, hitting his arm. “Everything is gonna be fine, you'll see.”

“I hope so” he sighs. “Thank you for coming with me, Inés.”

“You're welcome. For the millionth time.”

“Sorry” he smiles before starting with the fidgeting again. “Fuck!” 

“Maybe you are the one who is gonna have a heart attack” I laugh after his phone pings.

“Not funny, Inés” he replies, sticking out his tongue. “It's Fer, they are almost here. They… ok” he says, taking a deep breath.

“Pedri… Pedri, hey” I say, taking his hands on mine. “Everything is gonna be fine. The plan will be a success and your parents are going to remember this day for the rest of their lives. And not because you gave them I heart attack” I say before he does.

“Yeah” he chuckles before taking another deep breath.

“Everything is gonna be fine. You can do this” I say, kissing his cheek before letting go of his hands and go hide in the kitchen. 

When I look back at him, he also is looking at me, a big smile on his face that makes my heart skip a beat (yes, it is all about hearts doing things today).

“Down, Pedri” I tell him, moving my hand so he hides behind the counter. 

“Yes, down. Hiding. Yes” he says before bending down and making me laugh. He looks so cute when he is nervous…

“I don't understand why you need us both for this” a female voice says, opening the bar’s door.

“You will when you see what the emergency is” Fer says.

“If it is that damned fridge again…” his dad says.

“Surprise!” Pedri says, jumping from behind the counter.

“Oh my God!” his mother yells, throwing herself at her husband and hugging him as if her life depended on it.

“Pedri?” he says.

“Hi!” he smiles, moving to where they are standing.

“Is he… Is he real?” 

“I am real, mum” he chuckles. “You can touch me if you want to be sure.”

“I… He's real” she says, caressing his face and looking at her husband. “Oh, my boy. You are real and you are here. You are here!”

“I'm here, mum” he says almost in a whisper before he hugs her, his dad and Fer joining them too.

“Shit” I say when I feel a tear rolling down my cheek. Have they made me emotional? They have. 

“But how?” Pedri's mum says when they break their embrace. “How were you able to travel? Did you win the lottery or something?”

“Almost” he chuckles. “I'm here thanks to a very special person. Inés!” he calls, turning to look at where I am hiding. “Inés, come here!”

It's time. It's time to meet his parents. It’s… bloody hell.

“Inés?”

“Coming!” I say, taking a deep breath and opening the kitchen's door. Why does this feel more daunting than playing at the Camp Nou? Like, it's just Pedri's parents! But they also are Pedri's parents and… 

“Mum, dad” he says when I make it to where they are standing, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer towards him. Umm…. hello? “This is Inés. Inés, these are my parents.”

“Nice to meet you” I manage to say, Pedri's hand squeezing my side as if to encourage me and tell me everything is gonna be ok. But it has probably had the opposite effect, because feeling his hand there has spread heat all over my body and…

“Nice to meet you too, Inés” his mum smiles, offering me her hand. 

“Hi” I say as I awkwardly shake it. 

“You have a lovely name.”

“Thank you.”

“I personally love it” Pedri smiles. He… ummm… what? He loves my name? 

“I think I've never met an Inés before” his dad says, also shaking my hand.

“It isn't very common, but I've been told there seem to be more little girls with this name these days” I manage to say.

“And there will be a lot more in the future, because couples will want their kids to be named after you” Pedri smiles while looking at me as if he was like… proud of me? What is going on? “Inés plays football for Barcelona's women's team, and she is one of the most promising young players.”

“You are a football player?” his dad asks me.

“I am, yes.”

“That's amazing!” he smiles.

“Is that how you met? Because of football?” his mum asks.

“We actually are classmates” I say. “Football for women doesn't fix all your problems or secures your future like can happen to men, so I wanted to have something else just in case and I kept studying.”

“Beauty and brains” Fer winks.

“And talent” Pedri adds, squeezing my side again.

“You are going to make me blush” I chuckle. Make me blush a lot more than I already am, that is.

“Just stating facts” he shrugs. “Anyway, should we celebrate that we are all here together?”

“Yes!” Fer says, walking behind the counter. “I hid this here earlier” he smirks, getting a champagne bottle and some glasses.

“You boys thought of everything, didn't you?” their mum smiles.

“We did” he says while pouring the champagne. “So, what should we toast to?” he says when he's finished and we all have our glasses. “To Pedri being back home? To his special friend making it possible?” he smirks again, looking at me. 

“To family” Pedri says.

“I like that” his mum says, raising her glass. “To family.”

“To family” we all repeat before drinking.

“Want a bit more, Inés?” Fer laughs after I drink my champagne in one go.

“Please” I nod. If I want to survive what is left of the day, and especially if Pedri is gonna keep being this touchy, cute and sweet, I'm gonna need it.

“Drink it slow, Inés. You know what can happen when you drink too fast” Pedri says, definitely remembering that first night at my apartment.

“She knows what she's doing, Pedri. She's used to drinking champagne every time Barça wins something” Fer laughs.

“You have to tell us more about your career, Inés” their dad says. “If that's ok with you.”

“Yes, of course” I smile.

“But why don't we do that while we go for a walk to the beach? There are so many places I want to show her and so little time…” Pedri says.

“And here I thought you had come to visit us” his mum says, rolling her eyes.

“I… Ummm…” he mumbles. Now he is the one blushing.

“I was just teasing you, Pedri” she laughs. “We'll have time for everything. But first, more champagne.”

“Yes, ma'am” Fer says.

“Welcome to Tenerife, Inés” she says while raising her glass, everyone else doing the same.

“Thank you” I reply as I watch them all smile and start to chat between them, Pedri's arm still around me. One that stays there when we go for that walk to the beach, his parents asking me many questions about my life and my career as a football player, while also sharing lots of anecdotes about little Pedri and making everyone laugh. Everyone but him, who just blushes or rolls his eyes.

And it keeps being there while I buy some handmade bracelets for the girls on a little stand, or when a man asks him and his dad to buy a rose for their loves, aka, me and his mum. And it continues to be there when we stop at a chiringuito to have dinner, moving from my waist to the back of my chair and sometimes caressing my shoulders or my neck, definitely making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling while in front of this family.

But besides all that, I am feeling something else. Something new that, I'm starting to think, is happiness. A kind of happiness and pure bliss I had never experienced before because it is one you only get around a family as special and that love each other so much as Pedri's does.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I could go to a hotel. It's November, I'm sure they have rooms available.”

“Inés, no” Pedri's says. “You are our guest, you aren't sleeping at a hotel.”

“Then how are we going to do it?” Fer asks. 

Because we had planned how Pedri was going to surprise his parents, what we were going to do each day, the places we wanted to visit… But we hadn't thought about where I was going to be sleeping since there only are two rooms in their house: their parents', and the one he and his brother shared growing up. 

“You can always sleep on the sofa. Or with grandma” Pedri shrugs, looking at Fer.

“What have I done to deserve that?” he says. “That sofa is like a torture device, and grandma… Grandma is grandma.”

“No one is going anywhere” their mum says. “Inés will sleep on Pedri's bed, and you two will share the other one.”

“What?” they both say at the same time.

“Oh, don't look at me like that. It's not the first time you share a bed” she says. “And you both are on the small side, you'll be fine.”

“Love you too, mum” Fer replies, rolling his eyes. “But Pedri is the worst person to share a bed with. He kicks you at night, and hard. I swear he must have been a football player in another life.”

“Oh, stop complaining and go to bed already. You are opening the bar tomorrow, you have to get up early.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Goodnight, grumpy cat” his mum says, kissing his cheek.

“Goodnight, mum” Fer says before kissing her back, making her giggle and me smile like an idiot. 

“Goodnight, darling” she says, now kissing Pedri's cheek.

“Night, mum” he smiles.

“And good night, Inés. If they are too annoying, please don't hesitate and kick them out of the room. You have my blessing.”

“Thank you” I chuckle. “And thank you very much for today.”

“Thank you for bringing my boy back for such a special occasion.” 

“It's nothing, I…”

“It's everything, Inés. Thank you” she smiles, giving my arm a little squeeze and somehow making me feel very emotional. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight” I say as I watch her walk away and into her room.

“Shall we?” Pedri says while gesturing towards his room, Fer already inside.

“Wait. Is there anything you should warn me about before I go in?” I ask him.

“What?”

“Yeah, like… I don't know. Posters of half naked women, embarrassing photos, dirty underwear scattered everywhere…”

“Do you really think our mother would let us have those things in our room?” he laughs.

“I… Yeah, you are right. Though the embarrassing photos…”

“She keeps those in the photo albums. She'll probably show them all to you tomorrow.”

“Oh, wonderful! That basically is why I said yes to this trip, you know? I wanted to see photos of you as a kid with ugly outfits or while sitting on the toilet when it still was too big for you. Which probably was just before you moved to Barcelona.”

“Inés!” he gasps and laughs at the same time.

“What?” I shrug.

“Don't tease me” he says, closing the space between us. 

“I'm not teasing you.” 

“Yes, you are” he says, his face suddenly too close to mine, his eyes fixed on mine. 

Why did you start this game, Inés? Why, why, why? You always lose! 

“I… ummm…” I mumble, my face already burning.

“Pedri, I'm going to… Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt” Fer says, trying really hard to hide his smile.

“You aren't” I quickly say, taking a step back.

“Yes, you aren't” Pedri says, finally looking away. “Where are you going?”

“The bathroom.”

“I think we should let Inés go first.”

“Worried she may see how bad your aim is and that you pee outside?” Fer teases him.

“I hate you” he says before walking into the room.

“Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that, Pepi. It was just a joke!” Fer says, following him.

“Wait, Pepi?” I say behind him.

“He hasn't told you about it?”

“He has not, no.”

“Pedri! I thought you liked the nickname I have for you!”

“I'm not five anymore, Fer.”

“Maybe physically, but mentally…”

“You idiot” Pedri says before pushing his brother towards the bed and starting to do something like wrestling with him, both of them laughing.

“Ok, I think I'll leave you alone with whatever that is and go to the bathroom” I chuckle while they keep trying to hit the other.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Fer, you are uncovering me.”

“What? You are the one who has the bed sheets all for himself!”

“I'm not” Pedri says. “Look at my feet, they are showing! I can't sleep with cold feet!”

“I can't see shit, the lights are off!” Fer says, moving on the bed and making me fear he may break it. “Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Now what's the problem? Pedri are you… are you spooning me?” Fer complains.

“I'm not.”

“Then why is your arm around me?”

“I was just looking for a comfortable position.”

“You were…”

“Ok, enough!” I say, sitting up on my bed. “You've been arguing for the past twenty minutes, and falling asleep with that background noise is impossible.”

“Sorry, Inés” Pedri says, turning on the light.

“Fuck. Was that necessary?” Fer complains again. “Also do you see how you had the bed sheets all for yourself?”

“Guys!” I say, raising my voice and stopping them before they start arguing again.

“Sorry” they both reply.

“Pedri, come here” I say, moving to one side and opening my bed.

“What?”

“Come here. You can sleep with me.” 

Will this be a huge mistake? Probably. But at least I will get some sleep. Or not. Because having him so close…

“Inés, if my mum walks in and sees us sharing the bed…”

“Goodbye to my future nephews and nieces” Fer says, earning himself a punch from Pedri. “Ouch! Sorry.”

“She doesn't have to find out. Fer is getting up before us since he has to go open the bar, so before he leaves, he'll wake you up so you can move back to that bed.”

“But Inés, are you sure you want to… you know” Pedri says, nodding towards my bed. My bed that actually is his.

“I am. I sleep in fetal position, there will be enough space for the both of us. And like your mum said, you are on the small side” I shrug.

“She's right. Go sleep with her” Fer says, literally kicking Pedri out of the bed.

“If you don't wake me up tomorrow…”

“I will, don't worry. Goodnight, little bro. Inés” he smiles before covering himself all the way up to his neck and giving his back to us.

“Inés, I can go sleep on the sofa. It actually isn't that bad and…”

“Pedri, shut up and come here.”

“Yes, ma'am” he smirks, making me feel funny things on my stomach… and a little bit lower. Just what I needed before sharing my bed with him. Getting turned on.

“Goodnight, Pedri” I say, giving my back to him just as Fer had done and curling up in my corner of the bed.

“Goodnight, Inés” he replies, turning off the light and getting in bed next to me, laying down as if he was a mummy, stiffness included. But it doesn't last too long. 

Only a couple of minutes have passed when I feel him moving, one of his knees touching the back of my legs. I try to not move, to act as if nothing has happened. But then he moves again, and I can feel his body just centimetres away from mine, his breath tickling the back of my neck. And then, his arm moves.

Even though it isn't touching me, I can feel it around my body, kind of asking for permission to do it (because it had not been touching that very same part of my body the whole afternoon, you know?). So as a way to say yes, I stretch my legs, one of my feet touching his. And I swear it takes everything in me to not gasp when his arm finally rests around my waist, his hand looking for mine, our fingers interlacing when he finds them. 

We are almost spooning, there is only one thing left to do. And that's me moving closer towards him, towards his body. But I don't have time to think about doing it or not, because he does it for me by using the arm he has around me.

Now I can feel his chest against my back, my butt against his hips, our legs looking for a comfortable position that ends up being one of mine between his, our feet kind of hugging. But the thing that is about to send me into cardiac arrest (yes, the heart issues are still going strong), is the fact that I can feel his lips on my neck. They aren't literally there, but almost. Why did I decide to braid my hair to go to bed today? Why couldn't I let it down? Though if I had, he would have probably moved it one side to not end up eating it throughout the night, and the moment his fingers had touched my neck… No. Don't think about it, Inés. Not when he is so close to you and you have no escape.

“Goodnight, Inés” he suddenly whispers, making me feel every single syllable on my skin, the heat that it spreads over my body being so intense that I'm sure he is feeling it too.

“Goodnight, Pedri” I manage to whisper back. 

Will I get to say good morning? I'll keep you updated.

[kittenfangirl20]

Charlie adjusted the black and green dress she was wearing. She mainly looked the same except her eyes were green her hair was in space buns where half of it was black and half of it was green.

Lucifer: We need to find Adam.

He held up the wanted poster bearing the image of Adam wearing the helmet.

Charlie: Wait, are you talking about Adam the leader of the Exorcists. He has been leading a group of angels to overthrow my dad. Turns out they killed his mom and sister causing Heaven to fall into chaos. I felt bad for that happening.

Lucifer: Yes, he is my true love. If I kiss him things will go back to the way they were.

Up in the royal palace of Hell Mammon and Lilith were watching them.

Lilith: Who is that with our daughter darling?

Mammon: Don’t worry darling, soon he won’t be a problem anymore.

The day that Mammon took from Lucifer’s life was the day he was created. Now he came to Eden to seduce Lilith as she tormented Adam. They still tricked Adam into eating the Forbidden Fruit leaving him cursed. Maybe they could use Lucifer to help them find Adam so they could bring down the Exorcists.

Charlie: Rumor has it that Satan has given the Exorcists shelter in the Wrath Ring.

Lucifer: That sounds like him, Satan has a bit of soft spot for Adam.

Lucifer opened a portal to the Wrath Ring to find themselves surrounded by angels in black and silver. The crowd parted to let Adam through, he was wearing his dark blue robes and his helmet covered his head, but Lucifer knew it was his Adam. On one side was Lute and on the other side was Vaggie. Charlie couldn’t help but blush when she saw Vaggie. She was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Adam: Who the fuck are you and why are you with Mammon’s brat?

Lucifer: I know this is hard to believe, but I am your husband. More than just your husband, I am your true love.

Adam: If you are my true love, where the fuck were you when I was locked in that tower in Purgatory?

Lucifer: That was one thing I was wondering about. Who saved you from that tower?

Adam: I fucking saved myself because no one else was coming for me. If you truly loved me you would have come a long time ago.

Adam stormed off and went into the building he was staying in. He threw aside the helmet he was wearing as tears filled his eyes. Since it was still day he was in his angel form as tears fell from his eyes. But he knew at night he would become a demonic fallen angel. He looked up in anger when he saw Lucifer come in.

Lucifer: Please let me make it up to you. If I kiss you, we can go back to the life we had and our children.

Adam felt unbearable pain. All he ever wanted was to find true love and have a family. What if this was his chance.

Adam: What do I do?

Lucifer: Let me kiss you, I know of your curse. You look like this by day and by night you take on the form of a fallen angel that is a lamb demon.

Adam: How did you know that?

Lucifer: Because we are meant to be together.

Adam closed his eyes hoping that Lucifer was right. Lucifer kissed Adam and while it was everything Adam dreamed of in a kiss, nothing changed. Adam shoved Lucifer away from him.

Adam: Fuck you. I knew this was too good to be true.

Lucifer sadly left, it made him feel worse when he heard Adam sobbing again.

Lute: You really fucked up, at least try to woo Adam before kissing him.

Lucifer: You’re right, I will get all the presents that I know Adam will love. I will do everything in my power to get Adam to love me again.

Lute: Good luck, you’ll need it.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Shrek AU)

A long time ago there was a beautiful garden called Eden. In the garden, Adam and Lilith the first man and first woman were created. He was so beautiful that the angels came from Heaven to marvel at the beauty of the first humans. Adam fell in love with the most beautiful of all of God’s angels, Lucifer. But Lucifer was swayed by the words of Lilith and ran away with her. Lilith convinced Lucifer to convince Adam to eat the Forbidden Fruit. Because of this Adam was cursed when he died. By day he was a beautiful angel, by night he was a fallen and demonic angel. Only the kiss of true love could break that curse and then he would take on the form of his lover. Adam was put in a tower in Purgatory guarded by a brave angel named Vaggie.

Charlie: I got all the papers dad, I hope that Michael will listen to us.

Lucifer: I doubt it, he may be your uncle, but he never cared for me.

Charlie had a plan to open a hotel to redeem Sinners, but she needed the backing of Heaven to make this dream come true. She had the hotel set up, she just needed the blessing.

Alastor: Don’t worry dear, I will protect the hotel while you are gone.

Lucifer gave Alastor a death glare while he gripped his staff. It had been seven years since Lilith left them and Lucifer was doing everything in his power to prove he was a good father. But it felt like Alastor was trying to steal Charlie from him as the manager of the hotel. The only guest of the hotel Angel hugged Charlie and wished her luck as they made their way to the Embassy of Heaven. They were greeted by Michael who looked exactly like Lucifer except for one thing. He only went up to Lucifer’s shoulders.

Charlie: I didn’t know that that the great warrior angel was shorter than you.

Lucifer couldn’t help, but laugh, Lucifer knew he was short, but Michael made him look tall. It was a sore subject for the warrior angel.

Michael: I should deny your request for that.

Lucifer: I guess that is why I have always been the bigger man.

He should have kept his mouth shut, but he was angry for how his brother was acting towards Charlie.

Michael: But I am merciful today, I am to be married and I need you to get my blushing bride from Purgatory.

Lucifer: Who is the poor soul that is going to be bound to you for an eternity?

Michael: Adam, the first man who is now an angel.

Lucifer gulped, he thought of Adam and how he wished that he could have chosen him over Lilith. He thought of the beautiful man in the garden who begged to be held by Lucifer as he flew up in the sky. It might be for the best that he make it up to Adam by bringing him to Heaven and be married to Michael.

Lucifer: So if I bring you Adam to marry you, you will get Heaven’s blessing for the hotel.

Michael: Yes.

Lucifer: Then we have a deal.

Michael went back to heaven leaving the two alone.

Charlie: Where is purgatory dad?

Lucifer: It's like an in-between land, it's neither holy or hellish. There is only one entry and exit. It's filled with all of God's rejected creations that weren't pure enough for heaven and too dangerous for Hell.

Charlie: So, Adam is a reject?

Lucifer winced: I wouldn't say that. He was God's favorite creation, I have no idea why he's there in the first place.

They went to the edge of Hell where it met with the path to Heaven, there was a grey archway with a portal in the middle of it.

Walking through, the whole world of Purgatory was shades of grey, all the plants looked narly and twisted.

Charlie: Oh my.....

They had no idea how long it would take to find Adam, but they didn't have all day.

-

Adam looked out his tower window sadly, another day stuck in his own personal Hell. He was so sick of the color grey.

Even the lava around the castle was a bright shade of grey.

When Vaggie would make her rounds to ensure that no monsters showed up and that Adam was safe, that was the only time he got to talk to someone.

He wished he could leave this place.

[fromiftowhen]

Bradley's a real sunset bitch and Jake's a real sunrise ho, and nope, I won't elaborate any further.

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[thestraybunny]

The Landing| Y.JH Part 1 Teaser

Pairing: Guide Singer Jeonghanx Afab! reader Teaser WC: 1.1k Full WC: 11.7k Genre: Non-Idol AU, Neighbors to lovers, Rated: M (18+, MDNI) Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, unprotected sex (practice safe sex yall), idiots in love, Reader is in denial of her feelings and the obvious, reader is a single mother, toxic ex, mentions of past abuse, drinking, smoking.

Summary: Jeonghan is an asshole. He is blunt, rude, and sometimes its wondered how he had friends at all. But the thing is. He is an asshole to everyone, but two people. A single mother and her son in his building.

A/N: *reader is the same age as Jeonghan 95* I contemplated posting this, thought about writing something different, but I worked hard on this fic. I also did mention in my k-series summary about starting families. It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but I do hope some can enjoy it. If you want to be tagged when the full fic is posted, just let me know. Thank you, @gam3bo17 for beta reading this. Masterlist Rule/guidlines

**September**

Baby🍑: Hey, Hanni! Can you do me a huge favor??? Baby🍑: I am running late here at work, and Ren is nearly home from tutoring. Mom won’t be able to get him for another hour and I don’t know when I will be getting out of here, could he hang out at your place until either me or her get there? Jeonghan: Of course! I just got off the subway and almost home. I’ll be there soon. He knows to let himself in, he has the code. Baby🍑: You are seriously such a life saver! I will be home soon, and I’ll bring the beer tonight.

Jeonghan smirked as he read your response, before slipping his phone back into his messenger bag to make his way through the crowded subway station; not needing to respond. Picking up his pace slightly once onto the street leading to his apartments since he didn’t want Ren, your eight year old son, to be waiting for him for too long. His place may be a young boy’s dream, he would rather not leave one free to roam in for too long.

Plus, he couldn’t wait to see either of you.

--

“I am so very sorry,” You gasped out, finally reaching your floors landing, only to find Jeonghan handing off Ren’s backpack and weekend bag to your mother. Both looking to be packed like it was every week he went to his grandparents. The three of them turned toward you before you spoke, already hearing your feet on the staircase.

“Mama!” Ren yelled out with excitement, releasing your mother’s hand to run to you, nearly knocking you back. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, your eyes dropping right to the thick dark mop of hair, a wide smile gracing your lips as you plant a kiss on the top of his head. Making sure to hug him back with all your might. “Mr. Jeonghan got a new Lego set and says he’s gonna wait until I come home so we can put it together. It’s a spaceship.”

“That is so nice of him,” You respond, glancing up toward the other two, catching a glimpse of the dark haired man leaning against the door frame of his apartment, arms crossed as he watched you both. You could see he was fighting a smile before he finally tore his gaze from you. “Thank you so much again for watching him.”

Jeonghan shot you a wink before bidding you all a good night and closed his apartment door. Leaving the three of you alone on the landing. Turning your attention to your mother, you could see the knowing look she was giving you as she walked toward you and Ren. Your son’s bags in one hand as the other reaches for the boy’s hand.

“I’ll pick him up after work Sunday afternoon. That way you and dad could have the evening to relax.” You tell her, letting her pull Ren from your arms and gave her a half hug.

“Don’t worry about it. Me and your father have decided to close the shop Sunday and Monday. So, we can keep him, and I’ll walk him to school.” She waves off your words, looking down at Ren with a smile. He was staring off into space, absentmindedly swinging his and his grandmother’s hand. When she looked back toward you, you were wearing a look of worry, and she waves you off again, “Don’t give me that look. It’s nothing. Your father wanted to take Ren fishing Sunday, and you know with his hip and leg, he won’t be able to move much the next day. Plus, he didn’t want me to open and work the shop alone. He ran the numbers and found it won’t hurt us to be closed a day or two. So stop that worrying now.”

You gave her a doubtful look, not sure if you should believe her or not. Your parents have been running the small restaurant since before you were even born, it was only closed a total of six times in your life. Your birth, when you got appendicitis, important school events like graduation, and the day that Ren was born.

“Besides, I’m sure you would like to spend some extra time with your boyfriend without worrying about Ren here,” She whispers, making sure that Ren was still off in his own world before speaking. This only earned a sigh from you.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Mom, it’s nothing like that at all. He’s a friend and neighbor who helps me out with Ren sometimes,” You shake your head, keeping your own voice low but you wouldn’t look at her. “I don’t want Ren to get the wrong idea about us.”

“You mean, you don’t want to get attached,” She challenges, straightening her back, and this made you look at her, feeling like you were looking at your future self. “I don’t mean or want to sound cruel, but as a single mother, your chances at finding a husband is slim. Most men wouldn’t look at you twice once they learn about Ren, and this man looks at you like you walk on water. I wouldn’t ignore that if I was you.”

“Thanks for that Mom,” Your voice had a dry tone to it, shaking your head again and adjusted your bag onto your shoulder. “He doesn’t look at me in anyway, nor is there anything between us. He’s my neighbor and a friend.”

“Mmmhmm, I made you some dishes, and they are right there,” She points toward the bright pink bundle on the ground next to your front door. Filled with containers of different foods your mother would make you. Always making enough that you didn’t have to worry too much about cooking through the week. “I was going to put everything away, but Ren’s things were already packed. If nothing is going on, then I would be concerned that he has such easy access to your apartment.”

“Me and Ren have just as easy access to his too.” You cross your arms, trying to not show that your statement was not helping your case whatsoever.

“You must be very good friends then,” Your mother quipped, and it was then Ren snapped out of his daydream with a look of confusion. “I’d call you later, but I am sure you will be busy.”

“Mom!” You gasped, as the two of them started down the stairs.

“Bye Mama!” Ren called out, and you had to lean over the railing to make sure he saw you waving.

“Bye Ren baby. Bye Mom.” You yell out before turning to look toward Jeonghan’s closed apartment door. Your mother didn’t know what she was talking about.

[4lexnilsen]

there are tears in alex’s eyes when he looks at his wife again,  his chest expanding as he feels a sudden rush of newfound adoration towards her.   they’ve always been polar opposites and so he can only assume their taste in baby name is anything but similar,  and yet here she is,  willing to honor his late mother in the sweetest way possible.   it would make even the toughest man shed a tear.   “thank you,  poppy nilsen.   it means the world to me.”   he leans in and kisses the tip of her nose,  his hands finding her tiny bump again,  cradling it with a combination of love and protectiveness.   there’s nothing he wouldn’t for them…   “plenty of time.   you say it now,  but it will go by so fast,  you’ll see for yourself.”   and as a control freak,  he feels completely unprepared,  but also so insanely happy.   

“i know that this journey ahead of us is a beautiful one,  but…   i don’t want to lose you because of this.”   holding her in his arms,  he closes his eyes and smiles despite himself,  trying to push his worries aside and picture their next christmas.   “that’s so true.   but you need to know,  baby,  that i’m already the happiest man in the universe.   and i would be even if this didn’t work out,  if it was just the two of us until the end of time.   you’re my everything.”   and,  of course,  he’s delighted about the prospect of becoming a dad,  but he doesn’t want his wife to think that she would mean less to him if they never had a child together.

when the morning comes,  these worries are mainly nonexistent.   fear,  much like grief,  he’s learned,  comes in waves.   besides,  those late night celebrations served as relaxation techniques for sure.   what works as the opposite is their six year old niece announcing what is now the world’s worst kept secret…   alex may be the oldest of all the nilsen kids,  but he still blushes like a schoolboy and begins to awkwardly scratch his neck when his brother gives him a hearty pat on the back and congratulates him.   “well,  well,  well…   and there i was,  wondering if you needed a tutorial on how babies are made.   i owe david ten bucks.   i said you two would wait until you’re forty to have one.”   the comment could come off as insensitive,  but alex knows that his brother means well.   he’s just not all that great with words.

his sister-in-law is a lot more tactful,  hugging poppy as tightly as humanly possible and telling her how adding ginger or lemon to her tea can help with nausea,  quickly doing the math and squealing,   “a summer baby,  then!   cancer?  leo?   lilly’s a scorpio and let me tell you…   we hadn’t slept for the first two years.” 

@girltold

the slight sultriness poppy felt dissipates when alex talks about his mother. her maiden name was the least they could do to honor her, and poppy tells her husband as much. "i think it's perfect, alex. for a boy or a girl. i want her to be a part of it in whatever way you want her to be." her hand cradles the side of his face, feeling an overwhelming sense of love for the man in front of her. for his heart and for the woman who'd given him life. if she could have only told her how grateful she is. "and daisy is adorable. but," her hands drop, taking alex's along with them in order to place them all on her stomach. "we have plenty of time to decide." the slight tinge of uncertainty to his voice brings poppy a sense of calm. her anxieties seemed to level when alex allowed himself to be vulnerable; and in truth, it's nice to know she's not the only one with a variety of worries. "you know, they say having kids makes you experience the world all over again. in a good way." she smiles and pulls alex against her into a hug, nuzzling her face into his neck as she's done for years. "so we should enjoy this christmas, these next seven months. but i know we'll be happier than ever next year."

alex and poppy spent the night, at first, celebrating the news in the same fashion that helped create it. crawling into bed with their niece in the aftermath, thoroughly exhausted but over the moon. and in waking up the next morning, the three continue on with their sleepover until alex's brother and sister-in-law appear mid-afternoon; thanking the couple profusely for the time to themselves. lilly stuns them all when she responds to her parents compliments first, "well, maybe one day you'll watch uncle alex and aunt poppy's kids!" the silence that settles catches everyone off guard, almost as if everyone knew the truth behind the statement.

"because aunt poppy is pregnant?" the little girl looks away from her aunt and uncle before admitting the truth. "i looked in your trash can when i went to the bathroom last night… sorry." but poppy pulls lilly into her arms, kissing her cheek and nodding to alex in confirmation that he may as well be honest. "it's still early," she admits, trying to keep everyone's expectations grounded. just in case.

[hellhoundlair]

venting sorry. i get emotional thinking of the media both me and my dad loved growing up and the father daughter bonds that were the highlights of those movies and tv shows to him and i feel like i failed