#yeah my brain is barely working so since i feel my options are actually answer or ask him to forget i asked

[jellyfish-grave]

(screaming into a megaphone) I THINK THE FRENCH BAC IS BULLSHIT (huuuuge ramble under cut. Read at your own risk)

listen. I have arguments.

Finals are coming for me like. Right tomorrow, yeah? Yeah. The written trial consists of two options: You can either write a dissertation on a given subject (which you have studied through the year. There's only 4 parcours in the year) OR you can make a text commentary (but it's on a text you've never heard of before and it's not linked to any of the parcours you studied).

On paper it sounds okay (if not slightly unfair that both exercises are judged the same way, despite the fact that you have much more knowledge to back up your dissertation if you chose that). It tests the student's ability to think for themself, to use knowledge that was given through the year or to use personal culture in order to make an interesting reasoning!

The first time they tried this out they realised "hmmm wait everyone is failing, maybe that's cuz the expectations are too high" and yes! Exactly! That's cuz we're introduced to the exercise of dissertation the very same year that we're expected to make a full one. Before that? Barely mentioned. We make around 4 of them throughout the year, and we're never EVER given a full example. The only examples we get are detailed plans, but never a fully written out dissertation.

You'd think "oh, then the simple solution is to either lower the stakes, or introduce the exercise earlier in the education, right?" and yeah that does sound logic. But what change was made, you ask? Oh. Simply give all the answers through the year.

That's right. We get full on answers for the full dissertation during the year, and you could argue that the subject isn't the same during the year compared to the end of the year's prompt, however. All subjects basically boil down to the same core elements but written out differently. They decided that since students of our age aren't capable of making clear and complex reasoning/analyses of a given subject, they should just. Give us the answer.

This kills the entire purpose of the exercise. I don't think of myself as some literary genius or some shit, but i do think I'm capable of basic reasoning. But that's not what's being tested here.

Besides, if your dissertation plan doesn't fit their exact expectation, your entire work will be labelled as out of subject, completely killing the idea that multiple people can think of multiple reasonings. Which is. Yk. The entire point of a dissertation.

I know I'm being overly dramatic, but for people like me who have horrible memory problems, I just feel like this is entirely unfair. This isn't constructed at all because I didn't try to, my brain is turned off after 5 hours of memorizing the exact order stuff should be brought up in. We aren't allowed the fucking books the subject is about during the trial. What's the point in that?? At what point in life will you actually need the skill to be able to make a literary commentary without the actual support???

Even funnier! Yk how I mentioned you can also make a text commentary? Yeah! You don't get the answers for the text commentary during the year. And the expectations haven't gone down. It's basically a suicide to pick that unless you've got huge personal culture to enrich your arguments. It's highly unrecommended by all my teachers so far for a reason.

Should I even go on about the oral trial? You need to site by heart the exact explanation of the text (one out of 12 extracts your studied during the year) line by line out loud. It's bullshit. You get 30 minutes to prepare (which. Btw. Isn't enough.), then you have a grammar question (really the only fair thing about this whole thing.), and then you need to present one of the 4 (8 for some people) books you had to read during the year. You can thankfully choose the book, but this is STILL learning a lesson by heart.

It's not teaching you critical thinking. It's not valuing your opinion, it's not valuing a student taking risks and talking about a subject in an interesting way, because you're expected to do the exact thing the teachers want. A very specific plan. Even the main question your entire work is centered around is just a rewording of the subject.

What is the point? What. Is. The point.

[thecherrygod]

i am. making a mistake

[bonnymori]

01 | 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫... 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭?!

chapter 01 / chapter 02 / chapter 03

Word count: 1250+

Synopsis: During a particularly boring afternoon, a muscly man with a purple worm around his shoulders has made his way onto your house- literally, smashing through your window- and, subconciously, onto your life.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Fushiguro Toji x gn!Reader, theres also Gojo cat as your cat!! (2) Reader finds Toji's worm cute; i'm sorry if you don't just skip that part (3) There's some cursing but I promise next chapter won't

A/N: I have a lot of drafts and this is the most normal looking I've got... so let's post it first ehehehhsjhd- Also, I'm remaking the structure of the posts (Megumi's one-shot is updated with the very same visual as this!), hope it looks less unorganized! Thank you for reading <3

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To think you'd let such a stranger barge into your apartment- actually, you would never imagine such a comeup. But here are we.

Right in front of you there is a man. Raven locks, black shirt, white baggy pants - is that a purple... gut, intestine thing around his chest? - and a pair of imacculate ballet shoes on his feet. The dude is knocked out cold, it seems that he barely made it through your window, only to come head first against your floor tiles. Now you have drops of blood all over the floor and counter- and, a bleeding man.

You can't tell which task will be more grueling to solve.

Because you have a working brain, of course the man comes first. No matter if your window is broken, and a handfull of glass shards adorn your countertops. And now you've accidentally stepped upon one- just then you realise the man's back must be feeling like a bed of thors- or shards, over being dragged through the floor.

So you throw his arms - which you notice, has a few cuts here and there - over your shoulders, and picks him up in a one-person carry; barely, his torso is against yours and legs are dangling on the floor, this guy must weigh the double you do. It feels like you're carrying a fridge.

From your peripheral, you can see Satoru paddle to the kitchen's doorframe, probably wondering if you were preparing a meal for him or whatever.

"I'll be back in a moment, Ru." He meows a reply, dragging his mountain of fluff back to your couch- you're certain he's taking your spot, while it's still warm.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long for you to reach the bathroom, dropping the man leisurely upon your fluffy mat. Beside all the cuts, the man has already a plentiful share of permanent scars, and none are of your business, you don't care. It's like cleaning and stitching up a old doll full of tears, by the way you're able to maneuver his limbs; you're glad he's still unconscious.

But the thing around his shoulders is not.

In a blink of eye, it jumps from his shoulder to yours, attaching itself to your back and nestling upon your shoulder. When you glance down at it, it feels like a weird looking parrot.

"Hi?" You ask, it looks back at you. "Are you like, his pet or something?" It doesn't talk, just gazes at you through half lidded eyes; so you give up on short talking it, not knowing what you expected yourself. "Let's go finish my movie then!"

You join Satoru on the couch, the cat rapidly making room on your comfortable lap; and the man forgotten, snoring soundly on your bathroom.

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A sequel and half movie later, you hear a loud thud coming from the kitchen. Even though you're aware there's a strange in your house- the sudden sound still naturaly jolts you out of your seat.

"UGH- Goddamn it-" Next comes a colorful list of slurs; a sigh makes way out of your mouth.

You round the corner, pointing a accusing finger to the strange man, who's laying on your floor again. "No cussing on my house."

"Why didn't you even clean this floor, it's loaded with glass shards."

"I wanted to finish my movie afternoon before doing so. Besides, what made you smash through there," You point to the ruined window. "to here." Then, to the kitchen floor. And finally, motioning to your whole apartment.

That was a interesting question, he expected a "Who are you?" or "I'm calling the cops!" call.

"I don't need to explain you shit."

"Think of it as an retribution, since I patched you up, answer my question."

"No."

"That, or you'll pay for my window."

A sigh. "Fine. I was being chased."

"You're a criminal, then?" You questioned.

"Yes." A devilish grin made its way to his face, showing canines and stretching the small scar on the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, just don't get me involved then."

Toji is familiar to that sort of outcome. Sometimes people man up, people weaker than him. But he knows he's intimidating, and he absolutely loves to play with the attitude of those who challenge him.

Forgetting the shart carving on the sole of his feet, he walks up to you efortlessly, towering over your frame.

"Well, are you not scared to have a criminal inside your house?"

"No, I'm not defenseless. And, you're bleeding. Again."

"Shit." Toji sits down close to the wall where it's safe, twisting his leg to bring the injured foot up to his face. He easily plucks the reddened shart between thick digits, and throws it far away from him.

Meanwhile, you bring your first-aid kit up to him, setting it down near.

"Here, use this."

"..."

"I'll do it for you then." You wasted no time, reaching for the line and thread. Once everything was stitched, you wrap a bandage around his foot, then pats it finished. "What's your name?"

"Fushiguro Toji."

"I'm L/N Y/N, lost all your bite huh?" You tease.

Casually ignored. "Why do you have a first-aid kit? Most people don't have it on their houses."

"I practice muay thai, it's useful both for me and you."

"Right. Have you seen my worm?"

"Well, make yourself at home, until your feet gets better. And yeah, your worm jumped at me like those surprise music boxes, and now it's on the couch with my cat. It's been watching movies with us."

He was beyond curious, because the worm didn't have a thinking mind nor knew what even meant to watch something. Toji limped to the doorframe, eyes widening once he spotted the worm wrapped snuggly around your very fluffy cat.

"That's some cute shit."

"The worm is gross."

"I think it looks cute."

"You're batshit crazy."

You stretched your limbs. "Whatever, let's waste some more time watching TV."

Toji sat down - mind you, taking a handful of space you were not content with - once you picked up "both" animals to make room. He thinks you're weird, seeing the fact you didn't question what the hell was that giant-purple-moving worm, and for letting in a random guy inside your house. You do fight a martial art, though, but most people wouldn't have such confidence on him - a dude build like a truck.

There's some survival show playing in the background, yet he's beyond bored watching it, so he settles in questioning your questionable manners.

"How are you so chill about everything?"

"Oh well," You seemed focused on the show, surprisement showing itself once you turn to him. "I see these things in a daily basis, so it's really no big deal after a while."

"Curses?"

"Yep."

"You-"

"I'm going to clean the kitchen. Also, I ask you once the skies darken, to leave my house."

"..."

"Is there a problem?"

"I got no hideout out there."

"Suuure you don't." You sighed. "Alright, the couch is your best option; if I hear rumbles at night, or if you steal me or something, I'll be the one chasing you."

"Right, have fun cleaning the blood stained kitchen."

"The audacity." You left with a smirk, shaking your head.

Although you're weird, so far, you're also the most interesting individual Toji has come up to par with; something in this house prickles at his skin to stay. Plus, the fluffy cat laying on his lap is very cute aswell.

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[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (reader)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Y/N hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it. 

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.” 

He carefully set the phone back on the bedside table, and then his arms came around her shoulders. He let out a long sigh, the one she’d gotten quite used to over the last year and a half— the one that meant he had to go. She squeezed him around the middle and let out her own sigh. “Case?”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

She glanced at the bedside table to the alarm clock that read 4:57am. They both knew he needed to leave within the next half hour if he was going to make it on time, but neither one made any effort to move. Instead, they breathed together in the pre-dawn stillness— a single moment of peace before the world and all its ugliness could crash through the fortress they’d constructed around their space and around each other.

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered. 

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

She lifted her head at the tears in his voice. “Hey.” She shifted in the circle of his arms to prop herself up on his chest. “You’re not gonna miss all of it. You’ll miss this one appointment. And it’s— it’s not even an important one,” she assured, gentle fingers swiping away the lone tear that had managed to escape over his lash line. 

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips before sitting up and deciding to reassure him in the only way she knew how. “Okay, doctor. Eleven weeks. Tell me what we’re gonna find out today.” 

She pulled him up out of bed, interlacing their fingers and pressing their shoulders together. As she led him to the bathroom, he explained, “Dr. Layton will do the first ultrasound, and Baby will look more like a baby now. At around ten weeks they made the transition from embryo to fetus. They’ll be about two inches long.” 

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“Did you know they’re breathing now?” he asked, and she smiled at the way the excitement crept into his voice. “Between weeks ten and eleven, the fetus starts to inhale and exhale small amounts of amniotic fluid, which aids in the development of their lungs. It’s kind of like they’re breathing underwater.” 

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

He nodded vigorously as he applied toothpaste to the bristles of his brush. “We should be able to hear it, although sometimes it’s too early— depending on the accuracy of the estimated date of conception.”

He ran the water over the toothbrush before popping it into his mouth. She kissed his shoulder and then moved back into the bedroom, shuffling into their closet for his go bag. She checked it over on her way back to the bathroom, ensuring it had been fully repacked after the last case. She set it on the counter and placed his toiletry bag inside, leaving it open for him to pack his toothbrush and then sitting on the closed toilet lid. 

He rinsed his mouth and put his travel cap over the head of his toothbrush, gesturing with it and then dropping it into the bag. “They’ll do some routine lab work to test for things like gestational diabetes, and we can also choose to do additional screeners for chromosomal abnormalities and possible complications.” He looked at her then, and she saw the despondence creeping back in. “I should really be there, just— just in case.”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He let out a breath and pulled her into his arms, and they held each other in the silence, the soft light from the vanity washing over them. His phone buzzed with an incoming message, and she knew he needed to get on the road. Still, she held him for a second longer, and then they shuffled through the door and into the bedroom together. 

Y/N made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers. 

She covered his hand with her own and laced their fingers together. “Maybe you could ask Luke if you can FaceTime with his phone. You can probably take twenty minutes, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Maybe I should just upgrade my own phone.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Couldn’t upgrade for me, but once a baby comes along you’re ready for an iPhone.” 

“That’s not— you— you shouldn’t have to do all of this alone,” he huffed, and she realized her joke didn’t land when his voice cracked at the end. 

“Spence, I’m— I’m just teasing.” She lifted her hands to his face, pulling him closer and meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry; you’re upset, and that wasn’t nice.” 

She leaned up to kiss his forehead, letting her lips linger and breathing him in. “But I’m not alone. With you, I feel— the opposite of alone.”

“Irritated?” he offered. 

“No,” she laughed. “Supported, and cared for, and loved,” she corrected with a smile. “You’ve been all of that since day one. And I know that’s not going to change, whether you’re physically present in that doctor's office or not. Right?” 

When he nodded, she continued, “I love you. The most. And you are easily the best baby daddy on planet earth. Okay?”

The term of endearment dragged a smile from him, as it always did. “Okay.”

She leaned forward to press her lips to his, both sets upturned and a little dry from sleep. “Now, you need to go, or you’re gonna be late.”

“I know.” He kissed her again, long and slow, and then pulled back to lean their foreheads together. He hesitated for another ten seconds before standing to grab his bag from the bathroom. 

When he re-emerged, she reminded him, “Ask Luke about the FaceTime thing. I’m sure he won’t mind, and we can trust him to keep the secret. The appointment technically starts at 1:00, but I probably won’t be seen until at least 1:30.”

He crossed to give her another kiss. “I love you.” He crouched to press a kiss to her tummy. “And you.”

“We love you, too,” she smiled, fingers tangling in his curls. “And we’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

She kissed him one more time— couldn’t help herself. And then his warmth was gone from the bed, and the house was suddenly much too quiet. She snuggled back down under the duvet, her head on his pillow and the scent of his shampoo shrouding her senses and easing her mind.

Spencer really was supportive— endlessly so. Not overbearing, but interested and involved in every moment: reading all the newest research, bringing home her favorite treats, writing out a color-coded timeline of all the appointments and milestones. She wasn’t lying when she called him the best baby daddy. He was always there for her. So much so that the apprehension she’d had at the beginning of this surprise journey was nowhere to be found. 

As she drifted back into sleep, there he was again— she could almost hear the jangling of his keys in the bowl in the entryway, his feet on the stairs, the rustling of his pants and sweater being discarded onto the floor of their bedroom. 

And then she felt the warmth of his palm low over her tummy, coming to rest over the barely-there bump. She felt his lips on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her back. When she went to cover his hand with her own, her exhausted brain registered that it wasn’t a dream at all.

She turned her head, blinking her eyes open to see him smiling at her and drew her brows together. “What’s going on?”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder, snuggling even closer and rubbing his thumb along her belly. “I’m, um— I told Emily I’m gonna consult from home on this one.”

…

“Okay, Mom, this’ll just be a little bit cold.”

Dr. Layton smoothed the gel over Y/N’s lower abdomen, and Spencer moved to thread their fingers together, shifting to stand even closer to the examination table. The ultrasound machine gave off a low hum as the doctor adjusted the wand over her tummy. She felt Spencer press a kiss to her temple and turned to smile brightly at him before turning back to the black and white screen. 

At her first appointment five weeks ago, she’d been by herself— alone and uncertain and terrified— and she’d declined the option of the ultrasound. It felt wrong to see the baby before Spencer even knew about them. Now, together with him, with her soon-to-be husband— she was more than ready to see their baby for the first time. And she could practically feel Spencer’s excitement next to her, his body nearly vibrating with it. 

“Ah, here they are. Hello, Baby Reid.” Dr. Layton pointed to a small, white figure on the screen. “Okay, right here, you can see their big ol’ head— perfectly normal size for this stage of development,” she assured, eyes deftly scanning the image in front of her. “Everything looks great! Now, I’m just trying to find…” 

She adjusted the wand over Y/N’s tummy, and suddenly a wub wub wub came over the tinny speaker of the machine. “There we are,” Dr. Layton smiled. “Very strong heartbeat.”

Spencer squeezed Y/N’s hand, and she felt the drop of a tear on her shoulder. She brought her other hand over to cover their tangled fingers, rubbing her thumb along the skin of his wrist and kissing his arm. 

Dr. Layton made a slightly perplexed humming sound, moving the wand again and losing the sound of the heartbeat, only to pick it up again— this time slightly faster. Y/N’s own heart stuttered a little as the doctor moved the wand again twice more, and then cleared her throat. “Is something— is everything okay?”

She turned to Y/N with a kind smile. “Yes, yes,” she confirmed, and then she raised her eyebrows. “Just— do you hear the difference?” 

Spencer tilted his head in consideration, drawing his brows together and straining to hear. The doctor shifted the wand once more, allowing them to hear the two distinct patterns. 

Two distinct patterns, Y/N realized. 

Dr. Layton pressed the wand a little more firmly into her abdomen, moved it just slightly. “Those are two different heartbeats.” She pointed to the screen. “And those are two different babies. There’s a matching set of Baby Reids in there.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “Is there—” She turned to Spencer incredulously. “Do twins run in your family?”

He shook his head silently, eyes wide. “Yours?”

“Nope,” she squeaked. 

“This obviously changes things slightly,” Dr. Layton explained, cleaning up the residual gel. “I’d like to see you every three weeks rather than every four. Then at twenty eight weeks, we’ll see how we feel, okay?” 

She smiled gently as Y/N and Spencer nodded dumbly. She removed her gloves and stood. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes. I’ll be back with your photos in a bit, and we can talk about any questions you might have.”

The door closed behind her, and the room was bathed in silence. Y/N sat up carefully and swung her legs over the side of the examination table. She looked down at her tiny, unassuming bump and felt a tear slip over her lashes. 

“Are you— are you okay?” Spencer whispered. 

She brought her gaze to his, found them teeming with barely restrained joy and yet the ever-present worry. “Well,” she started. “I, um— I always imagined two kids.” She brought her hands up to her sweaty cheeks and held her own face between her palms. “I guess this is— you know— just a quicker way to get there.”

Spencer immediately wrapped her in a hug, pressing kisses over her hair, her forehead, her shocked mouth. “Two babies. We’re having two babies.”

“Twins, Spence,” she breathed. “Twins.”

He replaced her hands with his own, cradling her face and kissing her sweetly, sighing all of his joy and adoration into her mouth. “I love you. So much. The most.” He lowered himself to press his lips to her belly. “All of you.”

She used gentle hands in his hair to tilt his face up, meeting his smile with a watery one of her own. “We love you, too, baby daddy.”

She could see the gears turning as he stood, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “About that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you, um— how difficult do you think it would be to get everyone together this weekend?”

She paused. “You wanna get married this weekend?”

“Yeah, that’s probably too soon, huh?” He huffed out a sigh, then his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, what about next weekend?”

“That’s just as soon!” she laughed. 

He furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not. There's a seven day difference.”

“You’re really in a rush, huh?” she teased. 

“Well. I just— I figure you should really be on my insurance anyway,” he reasoned. “Especially now that it’s— now that it’s twins.”

“Mm, yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” she grinned.

He let out a long breath, and she watched his eyes journey over her face— memorizing every curve and angle, every new wrinkle, every last inch of her. And she knew the reason. 

“I know it’s just a piece of paper,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really change anything, but…” He used gentle fingers to brush her hair back from her face. “I just… really want to be your husband.”

She took her own minute to memorize the way he looked in this moment: her fiancé, the father of her children, the best man she’d ever known, the absolute love of her life. And she knew her own reason. 

“The paper might not change anything,” she agreed. “But— you’ve changed everything.”

He squeezed her hips. “In a good way I hope.”

“The best way.” She brought her hands to his face, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. “The best way.”

He closed the distance between them to kiss her with all the honey and magic and reverence he always did. He broke away to lean his forehead against hers with all the warmth and devotion and love he always did. She sighed, and it was all joy and vulnerability and contentment like it always was. And she knew their reasons. 

She kissed him again, and then murmured against his lips, “You know I’m still gonna refer to you as baby daddy, right?”

The laugh erupted from his chest and wrapped itself around her heart, tying tight and secure— a shield, and a haven, and a refuge— keeping her safe from every terrible thing. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

O no! Love is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 

It is the star to every wandering bark, 

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

———

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[angelguk]

Omg pleaseee write the jock jk playboy bunny costume idea u had 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼😩😩💗💗

lemme do a quick little thing 4 u :)

featuring: oc and jk being dumb lovers, chayoung  (the female lead from vincenzo) as seed of doubt, anniversaries and a playboy bunny costume. somewhat mature towards the end but only because jk see's sexy gf and cannot help himself.

This is a stupid idea, so incredibly stupid that you're considering jumping out of the bathroom window right now. A four-storey jump may result in various injuries (or potentially death) but it would be a far more welcomed out come than leaving Jeongguk's bathroom in this stupid costume.

You don't know why you bothered to listen to Chayoung's drunken blabbering. The moment you'd mentioned your upcoming one-year anniversary she's launched into a spiel about how young love never lasts, or how the roots for future foreboding break-ups were planted during the first anniversary. Her words sowed a dangerous seed in your head, one that was nurtured by Jeongguk's sudden distance. You could tell he was stressed, weighed down by the daunting options before him. Coach wanted to push him to try for the national leagues, his parents wanted him to take a step back and focus on his degree, and Jeongguk, after one quiet evening at yours, had confessed he didn't know what he wanted at all. It hurt to see him like this, usually such a sure and confident soul suddenly staggering and lost. But what could you do apart from hold his hand as he walked forward and help him up when he fell? There was nothing else you could offer, you knew his parents and their concerns were sensible but those same concerns made Jeongguk wonder if they ever believed in him in the first place.

So maybe that's why you're doing this, in hopes of rekindling a spark you feel dying and taking Jeongguk's mind away from everything that burdened him – just for one night.

It's oddly quiet in his room. You'd scuttled right into the bathroom the moment you'd picked him up from practise, complaining that you needed to shower before you commenced your usual shared evenings. Jeongguk had just nodded, quiet and mulling, his eyes absent. It had made something twist in your gut. The whole entire day, from the moment you woke up to right now Jeongguk had not mentioned one thing about your anniversary – not even a text or a bouquet no matter how subtly you hinted. It hurt, but it was proof Chayoung was right. And perhaps the only think that could fix this ship before it sunk was her stupid, stupid idea.

You can only stare at yourself in brief swift glances, grimacing every time you catch the reflection of those white ears standing at attention on top of your head. The fluffy tail attached to the back of the costume was making your butt itch too. Even with those criticisms you knew deep down that you looked good... Surprisingly so. The body of the costume was black satin, shimmering under the luminescence of the bathroom lights. It fit perfect over each curve and roll, hugging your waist just right. Coupled with a pair of fishnets and the fact that your boobs looked exceptionally great today (perks of ovulating) you were a sight to behold.

So even if Chayoung is irritating as hell you had to give some props to her.

"Y/N?" The knock that follows it startles you, sending you lurching forward hard enough that your hip bangs against the counter-top.

"Y-yes?"

"Are you okay?" He sounds tired through the wood, weathered away despite his concerns.

"Hmm? Yes, I'm good–I'm good. Just give me a sec."

A pause, you hope you locked the door because normally Jeongguk would have barged in not bothering to knock.

"Okay. Hurry up though I'm hungry and I ordered food. It's here and if you don't come out I'll eat it all."

"Already? It's here?" God, how are you going to disrupt Jeongguk's chicken nights with a playboy bunny costume?

He makes a noncommittal noise. "Yep. So hurry, I'll really eat all of this if you don't come out soon."

The handle burns your palm when you finally grip it, tummy swimming like you've chugged a series of vodka shots. Jeongguk should like this, right? He calls you bunny all the time, even Chayoung had noticed it (hence the horrifying costume you were currently donning). So wouldn’t he like it? And it was a cute little anniversary surprise, at least you were doing something unlike Jeongguk.

You take in one deep last breath, heart pounding in your head, before you twist and handle and swing the door open, a forced sneaky smile slipping onto your lips.

It falls right off the moment your eyes land on Jeongguk's bedroom.

Either he's the fucking Flash or you've been camped in the bathroom for too long because somehow he's managed to turn his messy room into a perfect romantic dinner spot. He's got the lights turned on to a low rouge, lit candles scattered around the place (which is a fire hazard but the warmth blossoming in your heart is ignoring that), a couple cushions on the floor flanking a heart shaped picnic basket where you dinner presumably resides. And then you glance down, something bright bursting in your chest when you see the red petals lining your path from the bathroom right to the picnic set up.

His back is turned to you, his phone in hand which he abruptly presses on. A melody fills the room a moment later, the song low and familiar. You know that song, that's your song.

Jeon Jeongguk will be the death of you.

"Now if–fucking hell." Jeongguk turns before you can stop him, the grin on his lips evaporating when his gaze lands on you

Oh. Oh. You wilt in a second, floundering against the bathroom door frame in a attempt to hide you bare (and bunny costume covered) body.

The silence that follows is unbearable, sinking deep into your gut as guilt rises to the surface. Jeongguk planned all of this and all you did was wear a stupid sexy costume.

"I–" You start, but his brain must of started working at the same time as yours because he catches that sentence with his own statement.

"You–" It's coated with disbelief, and your tongue gets caught in your throat when he exhales heavily, head falling into his hand. You watch with a sore heart as his fingers comb through the loose chestnut curls, tugging and yanking at his scalp as if his brain was falling to pieces.

"Jeongguk," you finally murmur, meekly padding forward, the shame you feel eating you inside out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin this. I'll change just give me a second."

His head snaps up when you say that, gaze sharp, almost terrifying as he surveys. "Why should you change?"

"W-what?"

"I said," he rises then, slowly moving forward as if not to startle you, his eyes never straying from your body. "Why should you change?"

"Because I look dumb," you return. "And I ruined your great anniversary surprise with my stupid one."

You only notice it then, how his jaw ticks, his head tilting to the side slow. Like he's holding himself back.

"You think you look dumb?" The question itself is innocent but the tone Jeongguk delivers it in is not. You can feel the words in your throat clumping together the longer he looks at you like that, his doe eyes different – dark and spilling with something that has you quivering, your eyes shifting away.

"Answer my question." A firm but gentle hand on your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

"Yes." It's silent in his room, the low hum of the song bleeding into the thumping of your heart against your ribs.

"Why would my baby look dumb wearing a bunny costume? Huh? It's fitting actually, since you are my bunny."

"Yeah," you try and lighten it was a small laugh, noting the way Jeongguk is staring at your lips. "But this was dumb anniversary surprise. Yours is much better."

You see it click in his head then, like he wasn't hearing a single word you were saying before.

"You did this for me?" Jeongguk questions, eyes dipping to your chest.

"Obviously, who else would I do this for."

"No–I meant, this, this is for me? This was meant to be a surprise for me?"

"Yes," you repeat. "I'd do anything for you. Now let me take this silly thing off so we can have dinner first." You twist away then, but Jeongguk snatches you right back, your frame colliding with his solid chest, firm massive arms holding you in place. The squeak that erupts from your lips lands into tight air, a sudden tension thrumming in your veins. Jeongguk's hard against your ass, erection grazing the downy tail attached to the base of the costume. There's a palm placed steady around your neck, trapping you against his while his other hand idly explores, sparking little fires along your skin as it journeys from your chest down to your stomach before settling right between your thighs.

There's nothing in your head except how massive he feels behind you, wandering hand gentle but eager a certain roughness appearing when his lithe fingers press through the fabric, toying with your clothed clit. It's a promise for what's to come, judging by the quiet groan that melts into your skin from his throat as his hips buck into you.

"You don't know what you do to me do you?" It's whispered softly, mimicking the ginger kiss he places on your hollow of your throat.

If you could think sensible words you would speak but right now everything is loud and roaring and words feel to heavy for your tongue. So you hum instead, whimpering when his fingertips circle your clit.

You can feel the smile on his lips. Hear it in what he says next.

"I should show you then, shouldn't I?"

[kanene-yaaay]

Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

 About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

 And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

 Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

 They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

 Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

 Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

 Patton trusted him. A lot.

 The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

 He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

 But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

 Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

 There was so much life outside.

 His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

 There was life inside too.

 There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

 There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

 And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

 And...

 And maybe that was true.

 Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

  Maybe then nothing else mattered.

 Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath. 

 It was much less stuffy outside.

 "Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

 After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

 "If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

 "Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

 "We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

 "Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

 "No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

 "Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

 "I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

 Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

 "Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

 The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

 Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

 He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

 A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

 Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

 “You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

 “Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

 Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

  Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

 “Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

 “Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

 “Logan!”

 “I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

 Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

 Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

 “No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

 “Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

 “You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

 “Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

 Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

 “Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting  go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.” 

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

[motherjoel]

hostile (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: after months of trying to get pregnant and a miscarriage, you finally succeed. will you get the chance to tell spencer this time?

a/n: this is my first oneshot in a veryyyy long time so im sorry if im a little rusty! trying to get back into it :) also i know very little about pregnancy so forgive me! (i got the hostile uterus part from greys anatomy lmao)

wc: 2.3k

warnings/includes: lotsa fluff, angst if you squint, criminal minds stuff, pregnancy, miscarriage

-

“Spence, were you even listening in there? I have a hostile uterus. Not only am I feeling incredibly hostile right now, but my uterus?” you yelled as Spencer guided you to your car.

“All I’m suggesting is that we keep trying, Y/N. And I’ve already done plenty of research on adoption and surrogacy, did you know that 140,000 children are adopted by American families each year?” he asked, opening the passengers side door for you and running around to hop in the driver's seat. “And there's always in vitro fertilization,” he suggested as he reached to shut his door and start the car. 

“Of course you wanna keep trying Spence, all you have to do is stick it in and thrust,” you huffed as he winced at your harsh wording, grabbing your hand over the center console. “I’m the one taking hormone shots in my ass and drinking less than 5 cups of coffee a day,” you complained about your attempts at increasing fertility. “Who knew a miscarriage would be the thing to get me to cut down on caffeine.”

Spencer was silent as he drove back to your shared apartment, both of your minds on your struggles to get pregnant in the past year. You thought back to your miscarriage and the impact it had on you both- it had only been a few months since you and Spencer became official. It was new, and this pregnancy was unplanned to say the least. Not telling Spencer about it was the only solution you could think of at the time- until it was too late. 

You remembered the feeling in your chest, your entire body running cold after being tackled by an unsub. You hadn’t told anyone of your pregnancy, not even Spencer, but as the blood ran down your legs it was pretty clear what had just happened. Derek dragged the unsub away in handcuffs as you sat in the open back of the ambulance, a paramedic wrapping your wrist. You barely remembered JJ’s look of pity or Rossi’s concerned gaze. The only thing you remembered was the pale face of your boyfriend as you had been lying on the ground moments before trying to hide the blood. He eventually made his way over to sit next to you after a few minutes of stunned silence.

“Hey, Spence,” you whispered as he sat next to you, the paramedic finishing up and walking away.

“How long?” He looked at your stomach, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

“Three, um, three months,” you fiddled with the bandage on your wrist.

“And you didn’t… you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked, eyes welling up as he finally made eye contact.

“I’m so sorry Spencer, I just, we never talked about kids before and we haven’t been together for too long… I just needed time. To think.”

He nodded and swallowed thickly before softy taking your hand in his, running his finger over the fabric of your bandage.

“You never have to hide something like this from me, y/n. We’re in this together and... not to be um, too forward, but I love you,” he confessed. You knew you loved him, but neither of you had dared say it. “I love you now and I always will, so you can trust me with this kind of thing.”

Since that day, the two of you had only gotten closer. Now, a year into your marriage, you were actively trying. And after months of trying to no avail, a trip to the obstetrician was called for- the obstetrician who called your uterus hostile, which was likely the reason for your first miscarriage. You could barely fall asleep for a few weeks after your obstetrician appointment, which made this early morning case call all the more difficult. The two of you dragged yourselves out of bed and began your morning routine of getting dressed and making coffee, moving in sync with each other as you prepared for the day. It was a quick drive into the office and before you knew it you were sitting in a room full of your coworkers looking at pictures of human remains. 

“Four men killed in Ohio in the past month, each left with a note written in the same handwriting,” Penelope says as you all look at the case file. You normally had an iron stomach- in the BAU, queasiness wasn’t an option. But for the first time in your career, your face turned green at the pictures of dead bodies.

“It says here that they are all men in long-term relationships?” Emily asks.

“Correction: Were in long-term relationships. Right before they died, it was reported that they left their girlfriends,” Garcia explained.

“That’s important for the victimology, but there has to be something more to set off the unsub,” Spencer commented.

“Yeah, I bet that there was a common reason for them leaving,” you suggested, closing the case file and averting your gaze from the pictures.

“We’ll discuss more on the jet. Wheels up in twenty,” said Hotch.

You all gathered your things and began to leave for the jet, Spencer walking in stride with you.

“You know what, Spence, I’m actually gonna run across the street and grab some tampons before we go, I think i'm gonna need em,” you said. “Go on ahead without me.”

“Are you sure? I can just come with you,” he offered.

“No, no, go brainstorm with the team. I’ll be right there,” you smiled at him as you parted ways. You were going to the convenience store across the street, but it wasn’t for tampons. Your stomach fluttered as the bell jingled at the entrance. The aisle for pregnancy tests was easy to find, and you were on the jet five minutes later.

“Hey, did you find the, um…” Spencer trailed off as you sat down next to him on the jet. He wasn’t one of those men who got weird about menstruation, but you knew he was avoiding the word “tampon” to save you any embarrassment .

“Yup, I’m good,” you smiled and focused on the team who had now gathered around to further discuss the case.

“So, is there any link between the men yet? There has to be a reason that they were all killed soon after leaving their girlfriends,” JJ mused. You thought back to your past fears and your current situation and something suddenly clicked in your brain.

“Wait…” you picked up the case file. “What if… what if they were pregnant?” you asked, looking up to see furrowed brows. “I mean, the handwriting is feminine, so maybe the unsub is a woman who’s getting revenge on men leaving their pregnant girlfriends?” you concluded.

“I’ll call Garcia. We land in 30, keep looking over the files,” Hotch said before you all sat back down in your respective seats, the outside of your thigh pressed against Spencer’s.

You were trying to think of a good time to take the pregnancy test- you couldn’t do it on the jet, it would be really hard to hide on a plane full of profilers. You decided that the best time to take it would be back at the hotel, but after working for hours you found it hard to focus with the pregnancy test in your bag. Excusing yourself to the bathroom in the local precinct, you snuck the test with you. You locked the door behind you and took the test, trying to control your breathing as you waited for the results. As you waited, you got a text from Morgan telling you that there was new information. The moment you finished reading his text, your alarm beeped. Taking a deep breath, you dared a glance at the stick. With shaky hands, you picked up the test and bit your lip to hold back your yelp of joy at the tiny little +. Shoving the test into your bag, you rushed back to the rest of the team to continue working on the case. You would tell Spencer this time, but you decided it would be best to catch a serial killer first.

Garcia confirmed through the phone that all of the girlfriends were pregnant and shared the same obstetrician who was a single mother with a young child. This seemed to be the perfect profile for an unsub killing men who walked out on their families, but something seemed off to you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something was bugging you about the case. You were on the way to Shelby Meyerson’s, the obstetricians house, with Morgan and Spencer when Garcia called.

“Whats up baby girl,” Morgan answered, one hand on the wheel.

“So I’ve been doing some digging and it turns out that Shelby actually has a boyfriend, Andrew. Recent social media posts show that they started dating a little over a month ago, and it looks like Andrew grew up without a father” she said.

“Right before the killings started,” you looked at Spencer from the back seat.

“Garcia, send his address,” Spencer spoke into the speaker.

“Already on it my loves,” Garcia replied, and you could hear the clacking of her keyboard as she hit send. You looked at the address in your phone.

“Morgan, that's right down the street from where we are right now,” you pointed out. The three of you didn’t waste any time getting there. You hopped out of the car and approached the door, hand instinctively resting on your gun.

“FBI, open up,” you said, rapping on the door. You waited for a moment, but when nobody answered, Derek took matters into his own hands. Within seconds, the door had been kicked down and the three of you spread out around the house, Morgan going upstairs and Spencer going into the basement as you canvassed the ground floor. You took notice of a cup of tea on a coffee table, still warm. Once you cleared the area, you made your way into the basement, gun drawn. Your heart dropped at the sight before you- a man you recognized as missing tied to the radiator in the corner of the room, and your unsub restraining your husband with a gun to his head. You kept your gun pointed at the unsub as you heard Morgan come down the stairs behind you.

“Don’t move!” The unsub, Andrew, yelled. You raised your hands when he pointed his gun at you, dropping your weapon to gain trust.

“Andrew, there’s no way to get out of this, just let him go so we can talk,” you tried to soothe him, his grip on Spencer only tightening.

“No, no, you don’t understand. These men deserve to die for leaving their children, they-they’re terrible people, I’m giving them what they deserve,” he argued, becoming frantic.

“Andrew, if you hurt that agent, you’re just as bad as the men you kill,” you began, taking small steps toward Spencer. “He’s my husband and…” you started, locking eyes with Spencer. “And I’m pregnant with his child,” you confessed. Spencer's eyes went wide, shock overtaking the previous expression of fear. You continued to speak. “If you kill him, you make him leave his child. I know you don’t want that, I know you don’t want someone else to go through what you went through,” you bargained. Thankfully, you seemed to get through to him, as he dropped his gun and collapsed to the ground, his grip on Spencer loosening as Derek moved in to cuff him.

You immediately ran to your husband, throwing your arms around his midsection as he wrapped himself around you, kissing the top of your head and whispering reassurances to you. 

“I was so scared,” you said into his chest, your voice muffled by his kevlar vest. He put his hands on the side of your face and wiped your stray tears, his own falling as he started to smile.

“Were you serious? Are… are we pregnant?” he asked, his hopeful smile spreading wide as ever. You bit your lip and nodded, squealing with joy as he picked you up and twirled you around, not even noticing the rest of the BAU had arrived at the scene.

“Hey, be careful with Y/N! She’s carrying my god child,” Derek smirked as Spencer set you down, his arms still wrapped around your waist. 

“Hold on, why does Morgan get to be the godfather?” Rossi questioned, putting on a mock italian accent, making you all laugh.

“That’s not important, what's important is that we're gonna have a baby genius running around,” JJ smiled as she walked over to hug you both, which turned into a group hug between the entire BAU. You all broke up the hug when Morgan's phone began to ring.

“Yes, baby girl everyone's safe. Actually… Pretty boy and pretty girl have some big news,” he said, putting Garcia on speaker.

“What! Tell me right now, I can't handle this!” she begged. You and Spencer smiled at each other before you began to speak.

“You’re gonna be an aunt,” you said excitedly, receiving the loudest gasp through the phone.

“You mean… you… Spencer… you guys… oh my GOD!” she began to ramble about her excitement as you all laughed, Derek taking the phone off speaker to calm her down.

“Our kid is gonna be so loved,” you smiled, grabbing his hands and standing on your toes to press a kiss on his cheek.

“We got really lucky,” he blushed, pulling you back into another hug, the world around you frozen in that moment.

-

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[myhockeyworld87]

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 5

Word Count: 6,353

POV: Reader

Warning: Language, Smut, NSFW, Pregnancy stuff

Notes: Sorry I meant to post this last night, but that game left me barely able to function. As such, you are getting this today. This fic takes place during the 2018-2019 season and during that season Jacob’s dad was still with him, so I will be mentioning him in this and the next chapter, along with his cancer. If that bothers you, please skip this and the next chapter. I just felt that it needed to be written into the story. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

What Happens In Vegas…Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist

It took three weeks back in LA to get everything taken care of before the move to Vancouver. Work thankfully wasn't a problem. With more and more movies and television shows being filmed in Canada, the firm liked the idea of having someone closer. Most of your work could be done remotely anyhow and you could just video chat conference calls or anything else you needed. It ended up being a win for everyone.

 By the time you could actually move in, Jacob was on the tail end of a ten-day road trip. He'd insisted on hiring you a moving company, even though you said you could handle it, not that he thought you couldn't; he just felt you didn't need the added stress. Though packing wasn't the stressful part. It was the unpacking and not knowing where to put things with Jacob not being there that was causing your anxiety to rise. You felt like you were invading his home. Most of your furniture you kept in storage, but you still had a few things you wanted to take with you, yet you didn't know where to have the movers place it. Then there were your clothes. Jacob had a gorgeous master bedroom, with a closet to die for, but all his things were in it. You were unsure if you should move them to make room for yours or just take up the closet in the spare room. Which while spacious, was nowhere near as nice as the one in Jacob's room. Everything would've been much easier had he been here.

 In the end, you split everything up, putting half your stuff in his closet and half in the other room. You figured the two of you would be doing a lot of compromising and this would just be one of them. You had his office moved around to accommodate your work desk, since you'd be working a lot from home, and you had to wonder how often he came in here, as the pile of papers on his desk looked like the size of Mount Fuji, volcanic eruption and all. You were tempted to straighten it out for him, but opted not to, not wanting to invade his privacy.

 You were just putting away the last of your stuff when you heard Jacob walk through the door. "Prinsessa, I'm home." He'd taken to calling you his Swedish princess lately and you had to admit you didn't hate it.

 "In the bedroom," you hollered back. It was late in the evening, too late for you to be up, but you wanted to see Jacob and make sure everything you'd done so far was fine with him.

 "I was surprised to see all the lights on when I pulled up. Couldn't you sleep?"

 "I just wanted to finish putting away a few things." He dropped his bag on the floor and came over to you, wrapping you up in his arms and dropping a few kisses to your lips.

 "I missed you these last couple of weeks." It was weird but you'd missed him as well. You had talked every day, sometimes several times, but those few days that you'd spent in Vancouver, had just brought a new closeness to this relationship. If a relationship was what you could call it. He did refer to you as his girlfriend, but the way you two had gotten here was definitely the road less traveled.

 You slid your arms up his chest, savoring the feel of his well-toned muscles there. "Funny...I didn't miss you at all." You had a hard time keeping a straight face.

 "Really?" Jacob asked. There was this twinkle in his eyes, right before his hands slid under your ass and he lifted you on him. You didn't even have a chance to wrap your legs around him, though he held you with ease. "Maybe I need to do a better job at leaving you some reminders for next time." His mouth went to the crook of your neck where he sucked on you and gave you little love bites. You were pretty sure there were going to be marks there.

 "And here this whole time I thought they called you Marky because of your last name," you teased, yet moved your head to the side to give him greater access.

 "Oh, I plan on leaving more than just this one." He carried you over to the bed, where he gingerly lowered you down. You loved how he could be slightly rough with you one minute and then next so gentle.  Admittedly, you'd like to see a little bit of his rough side, but hopefully, that would come with time.

 His hands slid under your shirt, along your sides; the callousness of them rough yet the touch tender, making you shiver. "No bra?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up with delight as he skimmed along the undersides, before cupping each breast.

 "I opted out of it a while ago." Though your body hadn't changed much in these last ten weeks, you did notice your breasts were more sensitive and sometimes you just couldn't stand having them confined longer than necessary. Tonight happened to be one of those times.

 "Well if it's an option, you don't ever have to wear it again." There was a devilish look in his eyes. "I like this ease of access." He was rolling your nipples between his thumb and index finger, eliciting moans out of you so that you had no chance to answer. Scrunching your shirt up, he dipped his head down to lavish attention on those same nipples he had been tweaking. Your body squirmed, as he swirled his tongue around it before sucking on it gently. He wedged his thigh between your legs and you found your body grinding against it while he played with first one nipple and then the other. "Oh prinsessa, I think you did miss me."

 There was no denying that your body missed this. Craved was more like it. You had a feeling there would never be a time that you didn't want him. What was surprising was the sense of loss that came with just simple day-to-day actions, like brushing your teeth together and sharing a meal. Those were the things you'd found yourself longing for these last few weeks.

 Jacob started to travel down your body. Trailing kisses as he went, yet stopping to whisper something in Swedish to the baby. He didn't spend long there, and before you could ask what he said; he was pulling your sweats and panties down. "Du gor mig galen med hur vat du ar." (you drive me crazy with how wet you are) You were going to have to start picking up Swedish or something in your spare time, as he seemed to always revert to his native language in the heat of the moment. There was no time to ask what he said, as he dove right into your pussy. Licking a stripe right up to your clit causing your hips to lift off the bed.

 You sucked in a breath when he repeated the action again, your body on fire like never before. When he flicked his tongue over your clit, you were gone. The orgasm hitting you hard and fast like never before. "Fuck," you screamed out, as your body trembled and spasmed.

 Jacob worked you through it, somewhat astonished with how little he had done to make you cum so quickly. Once, you finally stopped shaking he picked his head up from between your legs. "Are you alright, prinsessa?"

 "Yes," you sighed in a state of bliss, not knowing if it was the pregnancy or the fact that you hadn't seen Jacob in three weeks that made you climax like that.

 You lay there panting, still catching your breath. "Shall we do that again?" The smirk on Jacob's face had you laughing, but after a long day of unpacking, you knew your body wouldn't last long.

 "Do that and I may be done for the rest of the night." You were only half teasing but he chuckled and made his way back up your body, taking the hint.

 "Rather have this," Jacob flexed his hips into you and moaned out into the room again. He was out of his boxers in no time. Cupping his cock in his hand, then guiding it into you. "God, prinsessa, you always feel like heaven."

 "Mmm," was all you could answer back as he was buried deep in you, for he felt like heaven as well. When he finally started to move it felt like every nerve in your body was alive and tingling. With each thrust he took you to new heights you never knew were possible. "Oh Jacob," you moaned. "Don't stop...please...yes...oh god..."

 "Yeah, you like that prinsessa?" A smirk of satisfaction crossing his lips at knowing he was bringing you such exquisite pleasure. "Does my cock make you feel good?" He was pounding into you and you didn't know how much longer you were going to be able to hold on for. He must have felt the small flutter your pussy gave, as the first tremors of orgasm began. "Cum for me (Y/N)." You shattered at his words, climaxing once again with a force you never felt but just minutes ago. "Fuck, ya." He groaned out, spilling inside you as his orgasm hit as well.

 Your body was still quaking as he rolled you both onto your sides. His cock going flaccid yet still inside you. "God, you're beautiful," Jacob whispered those words, as he pushed strands of hair out of your face, before dropping kisses to your nose and lips. "If this is what happens when I get home from a road trip, I can't wait to go on another one."

 "Stop," you said playfully swatting at his chest.

 "I'm just teasing, prinsessa, though I do like coming home to you here. I think this will be good for us." You hoped it would, considering that you both had a lot banking on this working out. If this were to go south, then what would you do? Move back to LA with the baby? Stay here so that Jacob could be a part-time dad? There were so many questions swirling around in your brain, but when Jacob softly took his thumb to rub your cheek they all seemed to evaporate. "I didn't get to ask how you're feeling today?"

 "I'm good, well, we're good. That's three whole days without morning sickness." It was small, but it was progress. Hopefully, you were on the upswing of that as you went into your eleventh week.

 "Good, I can't see how that's good for either one of you." You couldn't either, even though everything you read and everyone you talked to, said it was normal. "When you were moving in did you figure out which room you wanted for the baby?"

 "I thought the smart thing would be to keep it next to our room. Oh, I mean your room."

 "No, you were right the first time. This is our room." He kissed you quickly before adding, "If we're going to make this work then everything is ours."

 You yawned, completely exhausted from the babe and moving in. "Ok," you somehow managed to get out, agreeing with Jacob.

 "Sleep, (Y/N). It's late." You weren't sure if it was the combination of his soft whispered words while he rubbed your back or sheer exhaustion, but the minute you closed your eyes you were out.

 Jacob just chuckled to himself as he watched you fall asleep. He was fighting the feeling himself, though he just wanted to steal a few more glances as you slept on peacefully in his arms. It was strange to him, someone who wasn't ready to settle down, how much he loved this. Just holding you in his arms and watching you sleep. Ever since he'd met you, something inside him had changed. You made him want more than just random hookup after random hookup, and now he had that something more with you. Though pretty soon there would be a little one as well. His hand stole down to your belly. He thought for sure there would be a bump there, after not seeing you for three weeks. The little blueberry inside you had grown to a strawberry now. He knew this because of course, he had to google it, along with so many other things. Like how to change a diaper, and what he should expect at each week of your pregnancy. He knew that right now you could start with mood swings, and be crying one minute and happy the next. He was just waiting for that to happen. He was trying to be prepared as best he could to help you out with the baby growing inside you. His baby. God, it sounded weird, yet so good at the same time. It was thoughts of his little one that had him drifting off to sleep.

 Jacob was home for the next five days before off on a short road trip before Thanksgiving. It was after a one point loss that he brought up finally being able to tell people about your pregnancy. The two of you were driving home after the game and you could tell his mind was preoccupied, you just assumed it was about the game. That was until he spoke. "I think we should tell everyone." It was sort of out of the blue and you had to admit you weren't sure if you were ready.

 "I don't know Jacob."

 Before you could say more, he looked over at you saying, "why?"

 "It's just...I'm the new person here. I've only been to three games counting tonight." He looked over again when you came to a stoplight, confused by what you were saying. "They're going to judge me." When he still didn't understand, you added, "They're all going to think I baby trapped you."

 "No, they won't."

 "Please, I know women, and you said it yourself; they're a family. I'll be looked at as the outsider that wanted to get her claws into a famous athlete."

 "I don't know about famous," he joked and you noticed that he tended to do that a lot. When you just gave him a look, he reached over and squeezed your thigh, letting his hand rest there after doing so. "I'm teasing (Y/N). I know these guys, they aren't going to think that way once we tell them. Hell, I'll take full blame. I mean I should've worn a condom, but if I'm being honest...I'm glad I didn't."

 You were shocked at his words, to the point that you had none yourself. "Don't look so shocked," Jacob said breaking the silence. "I'll admit, that kids weren't in my plans right now, but they were in them. And I have to say now, once I saw blueberry, who's now strawberry; I'm kind of excited to be a dad. I guess that's why I want to tell everyone."

 Well, shit, now he had you all weepy. You understood where he was coming from, there was something about seeing the baby on the ultrasound, even though you had no clue what you were looking at, and then hearing the heartbeat, well it made you feel the exact same way as he did. "Ok."

 "Ok?"

 "Ok, we can tell people."

 "Really? I didn't say that to make you change your mind or anything." His hand was running up and down your thigh now, more in an excited manner than seductive, yet it still sent tingles through your body.

 "I know, but I'll be twelve weeks in a couple days and then we're pretty much out of the woods according to the doctor." That had been your main concern, having a miscarriage. It would be hard enough on you let alone having to tell everyone who was sharing in your happiness.

 "Oh," Jacob exclaimed and you could tell that was something that hadn't really crossed his mind. "Well, we can wait then."

 "What if we compromise." After all, the two of you had been doing that a lot recently, no reason to stop now. "You're only gone a couple short days. We can tell everyone when you get back, at Thanksgiving." When you were with the other wives and girlfriends tonight they had mentioned that they were going to be doing a group thanksgiving dinner for those who wished to celebrate and didn't have family in town. It was a no-brainer to say yes, though you probably should've talked to Jacob first. It was too late for that now, as you were already down for bringing a couple pies for dessert.

 "That actually sounds like a good plan. Even if I didn't know we were officially going." There was that damn squeeze of your thigh again to let you know he was teasing. This time you played along.

 "Hmm, I don't remember you being mentioned in the invite, but I'm sure I can bring a plus one." You were half tempted to reach over to grasp his thigh, but you settled for just linking your fingers together with his, liking the fact that you two had this easiness with each other.

 "I'm fine with being your plus one anytime, prinsessa."

 Once the matter was settled the two of you concentrated on other things until you got home and he whisked you up to the bedroom. You had read that your sex drive might decrease some during these weeks of pregnancy but you were not finding that to be the fact. If anything, you were constantly, well the only word for it was, horny. Just being in Jacob's presence drove you wild, and it seemed to be the same for him. Though the two of you did have your tender moments, where you cuddled up on the couch to watch hockey; Jacob explaining the premises of the game better to you. There were also nights you would just lie in bed and talk about the baby. Jacob gently caressing the small bump on your belly that wasn't even noticeable unless you were naked, which around him seemed to be often.

 Before you knew it, he was off on another road trip. Immersing yourself in work during the day was easy, it was the nights that were long. Game nights, you found yourself at one of the other ladies houses watching the game together or just laughing and enjoying each other’s company, but then you would head home to an empty house and an even more vacant bed. It wasn’t lost on you that just a few short months ago, this was the life you wanted. No craved. Now here you were wishing that Jacob was home with you, preferably in bed, but just being in the house would be enough for you. Though you couldn’t complain too much as Jacob would call and facetime you several times each night.

 It wasn’t too long of a roadie, and before you knew it, he was back in Vancouver and you were getting ready for Thanksgiving. With each pie you baked, you had to admit you were getting more and more nervous at the idea of telling Jacob’s teammates. You’d taken the morning to tell his parents, who while not exactly thrilled about the way it happened, were happy for the both of you and excited about having a grandchild. Yours were pretty much the same, now understanding that your move to Canada was more than just business.

 Hours later, you were in the car headed to Chris Tanev’s place, where he and his girlfriend Kendra were hosting. You couldn’t stop your legs from bouncing as you went past neighborhood after neighborhood. “I’m telling you there’s nothing to be worried about,” Jacob insisted, placing his hand over your knee in an effort to get you to stop.

 “Yeah, well I’ll be better when it’s over and I don’t have to see the disapproving stares.”

 “You weren’t this nervous telling our families.”

 “I was for yours. I just wasn’t showing it on the outside.” Admittedly, you had been scared about telling them, but Jacob’s parents were just so kind. There were also words exchanged in Swedish which you had no clue as to their meaning, but Jacob assured you it was nothing bad at all. “Besides our parents aren’t going to judge us at the end of the day. Family kind of has to love you, even when you make mistakes.”

 “Mistakes, huh?”

 “That’s not what I meant.”

 “I know, just trying to take your mind off of everything. So, you’re cool with my parents coming over for a bit. I mean dad and I will be on the road a couple of days, so it’ll just be you and my mom, but I know she’s really excited about meeting you.”

 “Yeah, I’m actually looking forward to it.” Which was the honest to god’s truth. You wanted to learn all about Jacob and his family, for no matter what happened between the two of you, they would always be a part of the baby’s life. “I’m sure she’s got some good stories about you growing up. You know the ones that are way too embarrassing to tell, but mom’s do anyhow.” He groaned and you laughed. There were obviously some he didn’t want to be told and you were looking forward to hearing about those the most.

 “Maybe I should be rethinking this.”

 “Don’t you dare.” As the words rolled off your tongue, you realized you were pulling up to the Tanev residence.

 “Ready?” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the next few hours. You planned on just following Jacob’s lead. It wasn’t like you were going to walk in and simply announce that you were pregnant; however, and whenever, he wanted to tell them, was his choice.

 He squeezed your hand one last time before the two of you exited the car. You grabbed the desserts, tossing two pies at Jacob before taking the last two, and heading to the door. “Welcome, guys,” Chris said as he opened the door, then took one of the pies off your hands. “Come on in.” Not everyone was there yet, which was rather nice. There were a few of the single players there, along with Sarah and Erik. You knew for sure Holly and Bo were coming as well and a few more of the couples, that you weren’t extremely close to yet, they just hadn’t arrived yet.

 Mike Del Zotto was quick to come up and throw an arm around you. “Hey (Y/N), it’s good to see you. Glad you two decided to join us. I thought maybe this guy would keep you all to himself. I know I would.” He gave you a quick wink, but it was the look on Jacob’s face that had you laughing. He was not happy with DZ flirting with you by any means.

 “Keep it up and we may just have to head home,” Jacob countered, though in a joking manner.

 “Men,” Sarah said, grabbing you from Michael’s hold so that she could hug you. “Why don’t you boys run along and watch football or something. Let’s go put these in the kitchen.” She took the pies from Jacob and headed off.

 Jacob came over and pecked you on the lips, before slyly asking, “You good?”

 “Yeah,” with that he gave your hip a final squeeze then went with the other guys to the movie room.

 “These look amazing,” Kendra told you, checking out the baked goods. “Where did you get them from?”

 “Oh, I made them. I hope that’s ok.”

 “Ok? Oh my god, of course, they’re probably way better than store-bought. Though you have me feeling guilty now because I did not make any of the food.” It was then that you noticed large tinfoil pans here and there in the kitchen with a couple in the oven. “I like to cook, but not for this herd. I don’t have enough oven space for the number of turkeys we’d need.”

 “Well, I’m still amazed at you having everyone,” you told her, for it had to be a feat hosting this many hockey players along with their significant others. “Everything looks amazing and your house is gorgeous by the way.”

 “Thank you. Would you like a glass?” Kendra held out a bottle of red wine, literally your weakness any other time than right now. “I was just pouring us a second.”

 “Yeah, join us,” Sarah added. “We’re going to need it with all this male testosterone today.”

 Somehow at the last couple of get-togethers, you’d managed to get out of drinking simply by saying that you had work the next day, but that would not be the case tomorrow. “I really shouldn’t, but a bottle of water would be great.”

 “One water coming up.” Kendra headed over to the fridge when you saw Sarah eyeing you funny.

 “Ok, so I have to ask.” This from Sarah as she still had that look on her face. It was the one Kennedy always made when she knew something. Nine times out of ten your best friend was always right, but then this was Sarah, someone who you considered a friend but didn’t know near as well. “You haven’t been drinking at any games and you’re not today. Are you….?” She paused letting the word pregnant just hang in the air, for you to fill in the blank.

 “Are you?” Kendra asked now fully into the conversation, yet still, neither said the word.

 All you could do was take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, I am.” Still not saying the P-word as if that would change the circumstance of your situation.

 “Oh my god, congratulations.” Sarah came running around the island to hug you. "That's amazing." You were stunned there wasn't a hint of disapproval on her face. And when you looked back at Kendra who was waiting her turn to hug you, all you could see was happiness as well.

 "Jacob is going to be a great father," Kendra told you when she wrapped you up in an embrace. "How far along are you?"

 "How far along is what?" Chris asked.

 "I hope you mean dinner because I'm starving," Del Zotto added.

 Bringing up the rear of the trio was Jacob and all you could do was give him a sheepish grin as Kendra broke the news. "Congratulations, Daddy."

 Both Michael and Chris turned to him, with shocked looks on their faces. "Why didn't you tell us, man?" Chris spoke first, as he clapped Jacob on the back then gave him the standard bro hug.

 "I planned on it today," Jacob answered while giving you a look both shocked and thrilled that you were the one spilling the beans. "Just hadn't found the right time."

 Del Zotto came up and hugged you first, followed by Chris, and the next thing you knew the whole place was congratulating the two of you. It was nothing like you thought, not one person questioned the fact that you'd just moved in together or started to see one another. Jacob had been right all along. They were just like your family, supportive of the decision the two of you had made. You were beginning to believe that this may work out. Especially, as your relationship with Jacob only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

 After Thanksgiving, things seemed to be moving in fast forward. You hit the twelve-week mark in your pregnancy, which meant another ultrasound and another chance for you and Jacob to further bond over the baby. It went from being a strawberry to being the size of a lime, according to the chart, and this time you could both see it was an actual baby growing inside of you. There was a distinct shape to its little arms and legs, which made the whole thing that much more real and exciting. Which is how you found yourself asking the girls how you would go about getting a little Canucks jersey with Jacob’s number and Daddy written on the back as a Christmas gift for Jacob. It was the first baby item that you bought and it felt so perfect.

 As Christmas drew near, you found yourself decorating Jacob’s house for the holiday season. Even though you’d been living in the house for several weeks, it still didn’t feel like your home quite yet. Jacob had few holiday decorations, so you found yourself shopping more than you cared to admit. By the time he arrived home, you had the house transformed into something worthy of a Hallmark movie. It wasn’t what Jacob was used to by any means considering the Swedes are more classic and subtle when it came to holiday décor, but he loved it all the same.

 Christmas was a quiet affair. You opted to stay in Canada with Jacob, figuring that you might as well start making some new traditions, like celebrating on Christmas Eve as is done in Sweden. The two of you tried to mesh your holiday traditions as much as possible, so you agreed to open one present Christmas Eve after you had eaten some classic holiday dishes from Jacob’s homeland, then opting to open the rest Christmas morning as your family had always done. Jacob bought you a beautiful charm bracelet. There was a Welcome to Vegas charm, as well as a hockey stick, and Canucks one, but the one you loved the most was the one that had Mom to be written on a heart.

 “This is beautiful,” you said leaning over to give him a kiss. “Thank you.”

 You handed over your gift to him, which he took with a silly grin on his face. Tearing through the paper, he unwrapped the box in no time, then pulled out the tiny hockey sweater. “This is great (Y/N). I can’t wait to see him or her in it at the game.”

 “There’s more.” He looked at you curiously then peered back inside the box, seeing the gold chain lying inside. You’d seen him wear one on a few occasions but this had a little charm on the end. He looked at it several times before you finally gave in. “It’s the doppler sound of the baby’s heartbeat. I had told you I’d record it for you before we did the ultrasound here in Vancouver, but I still wanted you to have something to remember that moment.”

 His eyes started to well up, just like they had that day when you heard the heartbeat. “This is…wow…I love it.” It was Jacob’s turn to plant a kiss on your lips, only this one became a little more heated. He finally pulled away, but only to say, “Can you put it on me?”

 Thankfully he was seated on the couch, so you got up and placed the chain around his neck. The moment it was secure, he looked down at the charm and smiled, before reaching to grab you and pull you close again. This time speaking hushed words to the baby in Swedish as he always did.

 “I think for my New Year’s resolution, I’m going to learn Swedish. I’m dying to know what you tell the baby.”

 “That time, I said that they are so lucky to have the most wonderful mom in the world.” Well, if that didn’t make the heat rise to your cheeks. “There might have been a few other things as well. I’m more than happy to teach you though if you’d like to learn.”

 “I think I would. It would be nice to teach our child your native tongue, and they say to start as early as possible. Which it seems that you are.” He just grinned then hauled you down on his lap, cradling your small little bump once you were seated.

 “Well here’s your first lesson. You say God Jul for Merry Christmas in Swedish.”

 You repeated the words, butchering them a bit, then repeated it again much better. “Very good, prinsessa. Obviously, you know that one as well.”

 “I do. Though I wonder if I shall still get that title if we have a girl.”

 “Hmm, might have to change it to Drottning.”

 “I have no clue what that means, but it’s not nearly as romantic.” Jacob let out a bark of laughter.

 “No, I don’t suppose queen sounds as good in Swedish as it does English. I guess I will just have to think about it.”

 “Which makes me wonder, do you want a boy or a girl?” Everyone knew that all you both wanted was a healthy baby, but you wouldn’t lie and say that you’d love to see Jacob with a son. One he could teach all his hockey moves to, though he could just as easily do that with a girl. Maybe it was that you wanted a boy just so that you could see Jacob through him. One that had his sense of humor and good looks. Though your child would probably never be in trouble if he could replicate his father’s grin. It melted your heart every time you saw it. You had to shake yourself from where your thoughts were leading for you never saw yourself as this person; the kind that wanted to see the man that they loved reflected in their children.

 Did you literally just think that you loved Jacob? Certainly, you had feelings for him, but love; no, it couldn’t be that. You hadn’t known Jacob long enough to say you were in love with him. Hell, the two of you were in the process of getting a divorce. Weren’t people falling out of love when that happened and not into it?

 “Either will be fine, just healthy.” Jacob's voice brought you back to reality and where your train of thoughts was leading. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to explore those feelings; now was just not the right moment for it. Later, you thought, when you weren’t wrapped up in his arms with this warm fuzzy feeling from the holiday season already bubbling inside you.

 “Well, we both want that, but isn’t there one you want a little bit more than the other?” You probed further, ignoring those earlier thoughts.

 “Not really prinsessa.” He had to have some preference just as you did.

 “So, then you don’t want to know what we’re having?”

 “Not if you don’t.” He was too damn accommodating at times or was that he was disinterested. He was always talking to the baby, so you didn’t think that it was the latter.

 “We have a few more weeks to think about it.” No point in making the decision right now, maybe he would change his mind. “I made the next appointment for when you’re back, on the fifteenth. We’ll have to know by then.”

 He kissed your temple, hands running under your shirt so that he could caress the tiny baby bump. “We will, for now though, we better get to bed before Santa comes.”

 “Is Santa coming the reason you want to go?” you teased as you could feel his erection growing against you.

 “Well, if you let me, prinsessa, Santa won’t be the only one cuming.” God, you loved his sense of humor. There was that word again. It had you jumping off his lap in order for your mind to not wander down that path again.

 “Guess we better head to bed then.” He was swift to follow you, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to the bedroom, where he definitely kept his word.

 It was two days later that he was headed off on a ten-day road trip. You were definitely not looking forward to it, as the house always seemed empty without him in it.

 The team played on New Year’s Eve and had it been anywhere else than New Jersey you would’ve gone to watch only so you could ring in the new year together. Instead, you spent that night with all the Canuck ladies, facetiming Jacob as the new year approached. Jacob was still going to be on the road for another five days, so you busied yourself by taking down all the holiday decorations. You decided to make the place a bit homier, adding pictures and artwork here and there. The place was really starting to feel more like home.

 The only room that still needed work, was the office. While your desk was neat and organized, Jacob’s was a disaster. Had been since the day you moved in. You were seriously starting to wonder how things got done with the mountain of papers on his desk. All those papers had been driving you crazy every day you came in to work. Jacob needed someone to organize him, or at least that’s what you told yourself as you sat in his chair and started to sift through piece after piece of mail and documents.

 There was a pile for bills, all of which somehow got paid, though you didn’t know how. A pile for legal documents and a miscellaneous pile that you needed to figure out where to put. Once you organized the first two, you moved on to the random ones that you weren’t one hundred percent sure of. You were halfway through when you came across a familiar envelope; the same one you’d sent the divorce papers back in. Why it hadn’t caught your attention when you first separated it, you weren’t sure?

 You opened it up, assuming it was a copy of the document you’d signed. What you found inside shocked you. It was the original paperwork. The blue ink you signed it in staring back at you, but that wasn’t the part that told you it was a copy. It was the fact that Jacob’s signature was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t signed it. Why? You’d both agreed to the divorce, it was practically a done deal, only now it wasn't.

taglist: @iculyrea​  @fiveholegoal​  @raysofcrosby @leafs-lover​ @sexysidney87​ @lovethepreds​  @miranda0102​  @stbluesbrat21  @perrieeloise  @mandypants95​  @hockeyunits​  @liz96893  @golfergirl1982​  @princessphilly​  @ajstylesworld​  @zinka8  @dontworrybeekappy​  @hiimana  @meishaabae​ @heatherawoowoo @beauvibaby @hockeybabe87 @leafs-forever @dancingonmyown87​ @himbos-on-ice

[battybatzgirl]

Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot

AO3

Summary: 

It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.

Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap

Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series

---

Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.

Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.

The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.

Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.

Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.

And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.

Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.

But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.

Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.

“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”

“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.

Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.

She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.

He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”

That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.

Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.

“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”

Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”

“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”

“That sounds like doing nothing.”

“That’s because it is doing nothing.”

His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”

“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”

He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.

She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.

1.

Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.

The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.

“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.

“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”

“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.

“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.

Weird.

But entertaining!

Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"

King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”

“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”

King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”

As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”

That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.

Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.

“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.

Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”

“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”

“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.

She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.

2.

The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.

She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”

Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.

“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.

He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.

“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.

Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”

“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”

Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”

“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.

Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:

A kid.

“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.

A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”

The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.

“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”

“Uh, about that...”

Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.

“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”

“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”

The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”

3.

The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.

What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.

His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.

“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”

The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”

“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”

King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.

Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.

Ugh, she’s getting so soft.

4.

The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.

It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.

Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.

“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.

“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.

Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”

“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”

“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”

The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”

Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.

“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.

5.

The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.

The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.

Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.

Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.

Belos was looking for something.

And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.

Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.

Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.

It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.

He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.

Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.

Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.

Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.

So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.

She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.

“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”

Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.

“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”

“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”

Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”

Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”

“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”

The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.

“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.

“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”

“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.

Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”

Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.

She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.

“Eda?”

She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.

“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”

“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.

“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”

Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”

“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.

Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?

[sexysilverstrider]

Burning Ambition (Teppeilumi)

  Everything was dark.

  Stench of spit and blood filled the room. His vision was terrible blur, he could only make out faded images of the ceiling above. A gulp was attempted. A painful cringe was obtained. Breathing grew harsher, weaker. Heartbeat became slower, quieter.

  How amusing.

  As one lone figure lay breathless on the cot, a sudden smoke of black and deep red loomed next to him.

  Huh, was all the smoke hummed. Two slits formed on the entity, colours a demonic crimson. It witnessed the pitiful being. The other patients around it were fighting for their lives as well, completely unaware of the existence that had solidified next to the aging soldier.

  It had no mouth, yet a smile formed inside the flickering smoke.

  The poor soldier was on his last seconds. Once he drew out his fifth breath, all that would be left was a disgusting corpse.

  One breath.

  You are nothing but a pitiful mortal… A silent echo whirred into the soldier’s ears. The shadow hovered closer, looking down at the dying man.

  Two breaths.

  You lack motivation. The two slits widened, crazed as it glared at him. You lack perseverance. And for that, you do not deserve my attention. The darker line below the slits shook, cracked to what one could guess was an eerie smile.

  Three breaths.

  However, It’s ‘smile’ widened, you attract the traveler’s interest. The shadow tilted slightly. The man wheezed weakly.

  Four breaths.

  And I—The shadow reached out for his right hand—am interested in the traveler.

  Five—

----------

  This couldn’t be possible.

  “O-Oi!” Paimoun shouted, body floating as fast as it can to catch up. “Wait—Wait up!” she wheezed, one tiny hand reaching for her fast friend. And yet Lumine didn’t hear her. She couldn’t. For her mind was wholly clouded by the shocking news that was brought up by Gorou.

  “Her Excellency saw it with her own eyes and even did a full check-up on him.” Gorou’s words shrilled clear like a siren. “She even used her healing abilities to ensure that…you know…he’s not an undead or possessed.” His statement only made her run faster and faster.

  Minutes felt eternal, and when Lumine finally arrived at the headquarters in Sangonomiya, she wasted no time and slammed the doors open.

  The scene she made caused shock and confusion to both soldiers and locals alike. All eyes were on her, but a pair of dazzling golden starlight were on the man at the far end of the headquarters.

  Him.

  “Teppei!”

  Once his name escaped her lips. Once those warm brown eyes met her own. Lumine could feel her legs give out and her body flashing forward.

  Even with a gift bestowed upon him, never would he have anticipated the traveler’s tackle.

  “Oof!” His body was thrown aback, yet awareness and newfound strength allowed him to stand his ground instead of falling on his butt. Arms spread open. Eyes widened immediately. Legs shaking still from the impact, Teppei quickly tried to straighten his back with someone hugging him for dear life.

  “You’re alive…”

  Her voice was muffled, breathing brushed against the material of his shirt. “I—what?” Bafflement still bursting in his mind, he tilted his head downwards. All he saw was a sight of golden blonde. All he smelled was a scent of warmth and wind.

  “You’re alive!” Without warning, Lumine snapped her head upwards, meeting his shocked gaze. “You’re alive!” Statement now booming with baffled laughter, Lumine once more nuzzled her face into his chest.

  The scent was tickling his nose. Burning red in his cheeks.

  “I uh—” Realization kicked in; they were very, very close. “I-I am!” Words sputtered into a stutter, Teppei gave two thumbs up with arms still spread to the side.

  Laughter bubbled within her chest, tickling his own.

  He prayed that she didn’t hear his manic heartbeat.

  “I’m so glad…”

  The laughter was short-lived, however, as her voice lulled to a whisper. “Traveler?”

  “So…so glad…” Her hug tightened. Voice now broken to a slow, woeful murmur. “I’m glad…” A strain scraped through gritted teeth. Golden eyes were squeezed shut to prevent a fearful sight.

  A short gasp popped her lips to feel his embrace.

  “I’m glad too…” His voice was a gentle whisper, meek and shaky. “Very, very glad…”

  Cheek rested against his chest, Lumine pursed her lips and released a heavy sigh. “Mmm…” His arms felt hesitant around her petite body at first, but fear dissolved into relief once she felt his hug tighten.

  “Aww!”

  Relief, however, exploded into wild embarrassment once they realized they weren’t alone.

  Immediately both broke their hug, faces now flushed red and hearts thumping wildly against their ribcages. A pair of golden and brown targeted towards the two people standing before them. One had his face covered and body shaking in silent amusement. The other had her hands clapped and positioned adorably next to her cheek.

  “I’m so happy to see that smile back on your face, traveler!” Kokomi gleamed, her smile sincere yet laced with a hint of mirth. Gorou still had his face covered, though it seemed that his fit of giggles had ceased—for now.

  Ah, what a fool she made herself to be.

  “W-Well,” Trying her best to dig out of her hole she had made, Lumine straightened her posture and cocked her head upwards. “Why wouldn’t I be? To know that my friend is alive is more than enough to make me—”

  “How dare you left Paimon at the back!”

  “Ack!”

  Alas, before Lumine could save face, she wasn’t able to realize and stop Paimon from crashing into her.

----------

  In all honesty, Teppei still thought that he had died and gone to heaven.

  “It’s…real.” Tap, tap. One finger gently tapped onto the glass of the Vision case. A simmering shape of fire burned brilliantly inside the object. The longer he held it, the more he could feel warmth sipping into his body. One hand holding the Vision, he flipped his other hand left and right.

  There were no wrinkles. No drained colours of deathly blue. The same warmth could be felt into his palm. The same pulse could be felt inside his veins.

  “Still reeling it in?”

  Her voice was a brilliant beacon that lit him up. “Uh—yeah!” The answer stuttered sheepishly, Teppei looked at the traveler. Her smile was ever present. Her eyes gleamed gloriously like stars that he often basked in awe.

  Those stars now shined closely to him.

  “I just…” It’s been an hour since their reunion. After witnessing a scolding from Paimon to Lumine and apologizing endlessly to Lady Kokomi and General Gorou, both he and the traveler decided to rest by the lake near the headquarters. Peace wasn’t an option yet, however, as the tiny, floating being started shooting endless questions that he still found no answers to.

  “You have a Vision now!? You’re a Pyro user?! Holy moly you can control fire! You got blessed by the Gods! How? When? And you look like you’re back to your real age! You’re no longer a withering, dying old man!”

  It was truthfully amazing how Lumine handled Paimon on a daily basis.

  After trying his best to give an explanation that might work, Paimon finally reached an understanding and let him breathe.

  That, or she was hungry which made her fly off to the kitchen to recharge herself for more questions later.

  Either way, Teppei was grateful for the silence.

  Now all that’s left were him and the traveler. And while he knew she had just as many questions as her small friend, he was just glad that she allowed him to recollect his thoughts first.

  It had been a good 20 minutes. Reality still hadn’t set in.

  “This is mine…right?” Once again he looked at her, eyes clouded in hope and fear. Will it disappear? Am I actually dreaming or dead and this is just my mind giving me one last mercy? These questions bounced in his mind from the moment he woke up from the agonizing slumber. “It’s—I’m not holding someone’s missing Vision, right…?”

  “Teppei.”

  His body shivered briefly to hear such a gentle tone.

  Pupils dilated to see her hand, small yet callous, cupping his left hand. Quickly he looked at her again, not realizing that he had dropped his gaze back at the Pyro Vision.

  Her smile was radiant as the sun.

  “That is yours.” Reassurance sang melodiously into his ears. Her fingers curled his own, cupping the warm Vision closer. “You have a Vision.” Distance became a mere hindrance to her, so Lumine scooted closer. It was then that she saw his hair, dark as the day she first met him. His cheeks were rosy. His eyes shined brightly. No wrinkles cursed his skin. No fades of pale blue scrapped his face.

  He looked back to how he was before. Better even.

  Giddiness bubbled within her again. Though caution and confusion loomed inside her brain at the possible impossible, Lumine decided to gulp those fears down first and rejoiced at his living.

  Living. Alive.

  “You’ve received favours from the Gods.”

  It took a while for Teppei to get used to his new powers.

  While those words stung her tongue, clawed through her throat, what matters to her right now was that he was alive.

----------

  One couldn’t hone it so magnificently in a span of a day after receiving a Vision. Though Lumine wouldn’t know; she technically never gotten one.

  But as a month rolled by, and after rejoicing with his friends and teammates, Teppei easily bounced back as Captain of Herring I. Excitement fuelled his veins once he finally got the chance to wear his new uniform. A small logo in shape of a herring was stitched at the back, bare and open so proudly for everyone to see. His teammates now somewhat revered him as a miracle who came back from the jaws of death. And while a part of him felt bashful and slightly proud of the statement, Teppei knew he couldn’t gloat—at least, not too much.

  This was a gift by the Gods, after all. He was grateful. Truly. Whether or not the Vision he received granted him what was once stolen by the Delusion, Teppei knew this was something that shouldn’t be taken so lightly. Or rudely.

  A few more weeks flew by, and as a Vision bearer, he was now given a special task to train and hone his powers. And while that didn’t seem like a problem—in fact, Teppei was more than excited to train with General Gorou and Kazuha—he did feel the nerves kicking in when Lumine volunteered to join in the practice as well.

  “Alright!” Her right hand reached forward; immediately, her sword appeared seemingly out of nothing. “Show me what you got, partner!”

  Ba-dump!

  He really needed to have a talk with his heart later about the traveler calling him that.

  “Right!” Enthusiasm and anxiety spiralled together, Teppei hovered hands close to each other. Slowly, he tried to manifest the weapon into his hands. Apparently, according to General Gorou, Vision bearers were able to dissolve their weapons with their powers, enabling an easy access to it especially when they’re in a pinch. When Teppei heard of this fun fact, he was over the moon; what a very coincidentally accessible way!

  However, it was easier said than done.

  It took many, many, many tries. And finally, after a…few failed attempts, he was able to conjure up his lance.

  It took a few seconds—better than a few minutes, Teppei figured—the weapon finally materialized in his hands. “Got it!” Like a puppy, he beamed. Flickers of flame swerved around the lane, yet Teppei felt no pain.

  If anything, he felt elated.

  Never one to give up or step down, he concentrated again. This time, patience and practice showed its results as ribbons of fire wrapped around the lance. They decorated every so prettily, tickling his arm. Careful as to not position his lance near anyone besides his opponent, he posed a battle stance.

  “Ready when you are—” Brown eyes stared at her. His battle posture ready. His heartbeat sang madly. “—partner!”

----------

  Sometimes, he needed to remind himself that his own flames couldn’t technically hurt him.

  It was amazing. Jaw-dropping. Stunning even that he could stare at it for days. The tiny flicker of flames danced on his palms, hypnotizing him with such a sight. He curled one finger. Then another and another. His fingers went thru the fire. It gave such a tickling warmth, soothing both his palms and heart.

  “Heh…” A quiet chuckle peeped through smiling lips. Sitting alone by the lake, he slowly curled his fists, extinguishing the flames within. It tickled, he thought. Once again, he opened his hands, revealing clear skin that bore flesh, not bones.

  His heartbeat raced. Excitement. Fear. All whirled in his mind. Silently, he took a deep breath, then exhaled carefully as if relishing on each breath that coursed through his throat.

  He was alive. Living.

  Everything could change in a blink.

  Bringing that reminder close to his heart, Teppei nodded once. A new resolution formed firm. Stronger. Clearer. If this truly was a gift by the Gods. If this was truly a test he needed to fulfil and succeed, then he must carry on.

  Yes. One fist raised in the air. A smile curled confidently under the shine of the moonlight. I can do this!

  As one man basked on his goal, one woman stood from afar, hiding behind a tree and gazing at him with eyes a woeful glow and lips a tight purse.

  “Gift by the Gods.”

  The words sent a shiver down her spine. Burned fire in her chest.

  Gratitude burst brightly every time she saw him. But Lumine knew: not everything came without a price.

  The Archons she had met so far were nice, welcoming—although Ei had a rough start when they first met, both were slowly moving forward together to fix the future. But that was the thing that concerned Lumine the most.

  Not everyone would be sensible and sweet like Venti and Zhongli. And even with them, after having met Dainsleif and the unfortunate reunion with her dear brother, Lumine had to keep her guard up.

  He looked so happy. So alive.

  Ba-dump…

  One hand placed where her heart ached.

----------

  Some Vision bearers honed their powers until they were able to conjure up new skills. Some were able to form powerful shields. Some were able to heal and cure. Some even had the power to freeze even the mightiest of hilichurl chieftains.

  In Teppei’s case, he would soon find out that skills were sometimes found or created when one was put in a desperate situation.

  “Watch out!”

  All happened too fast. The moment he saw a samurai plunging his way towards her, Teppei could feel the wind and rain against his face. He saw Lumine turning around to face the enemy. He saw Lumine swinging her sword in hopes that it slices the samurai before his own could slice her.

  While he was not as fast as the traveler, he was quick enough to reach out for her.

  Quickly he tugged her left arm. Taken aback by the sudden force, Lumine felt her body being pulled backwards. Everything happened in mere blinks. Panic sinking in, Teppei stomped one foot forward—

  FWOOM!

  CLANG! CRASH!!

  A burst of fire shaped around them. The ringing clash of steel against solid fire reverberated amidst the heavy rain.

  The impact clearly took the samurai by surprise. The newly-formed shield ironically took Teppei’s and Lumine;s breaths away.

  Golden met brown. Stupor froze their body still. The shield was still active, still enveloped around them like a dome of flames. Lumine gawked at the tall captain, awe and bewilderment being her method of communication. It seemed Teppei understood her language, for both now shared their speechless conversation under the brilliant dome.

  “Um…” he gulped. “You alright?”

  She blinked once. Twice. “Yeah!” Laughter burst out amidst the stupor. “I’m fine!” One to easily register reality quickly around her, Lumine readied her battle stance again. The shield around them burned brighter. As eyes inspected the area around her, she realized that the same samurai that attacked just now started to stagger and stumble. His sword sheathed into the ground. Though donned in a helmet, Lumine could see him crouch slightly as if he was trying to catch his breath.

  He didn’t get hit by anything else after that. And the impact wasn’t as severe. If Lumine remembered correctly, the samurai only crashed against Teppei’s shield—

  Another realization jolted in. And her guess was swiftly proven correct as she felt an aura of strength pumping into her veins.

  It would seem Teppei would be excited to learn his newfound ability.

  For now, as both captains locked eyes and nodded, Lumine decided to break the great news later after they finished this battle.

----------

  Sangonomiya was truly a breath-taking place.

  Giant shells that stood proudly in the center of the land. Waterfalls that shined and gleamed every time it hit the surface. Even the lake was a like a beautiful mirror, revealing clear images of those who look upon it.

  However, as beautiful as the place was, it did have one flaw when it came to nightly weather.

  Maybe Ei was feeling at peace after their little tour, which would explain the soothing wind that blew past her. And while Lumine was happy to know that that might be case, unfortunately, her body would say otherwise.

  “Hey there, traveler!”

  Her head turned at the voice. Golden eyes caught the sight of the lone soldier who kept dancing in her mind lately. “Hi,” was her reply, short and sweet, yet enough to ring a bell of joy at his presence.

  Her bliss was a reflection to his.

  “May I join in?” His directed his hand at the empty spot next to her. A giggle was heard. A shaken head was seen. Smile curling swirls at the corners, Teppei took a seat on the bench. “Where’s your flying friend?”

  “Sleeping.” Another short reply, but not curt. Her head turned to one of the tents in the camp. “She had a big dinner so decided to call it a night.”

  “I see.” Brown eyes glanced at the tent, then back at her. “Why are you still up, though?” Curiosity led him to the question, but he didn’t realize how rude he might have sounded before he could stop himself. Teppei then flustered to see her eyes widen, probably offended, probably hurt that he thought she was some sort of child.

  “W-Wait, no I mean—” Both hands raised and waved. “I was just curious since we kinda had a long day and—”

  Laughter ceased him from making a further fool of himself.

  “It’s okay, Teppei.” One hand that stayed near her mouth slowly lowered down to her lap. “I understand. I just don’t feel sleepy yet.” The smile on her face grew genuine. It always seemed to be whenever he was around. “I just want to enjoy the night a little longer. I have a lot of energy compared to Paimon, anyways.”

  The joke got through him. A laughter was given as a response.

  “If she heard you, she would be mad.”

  “Which is why I’m saying it to you.”

  How light her chest felt whenever she talked to him.

  The conversation came smoothly. Teppei talked about his daily task as captain. Lumine responded with topics of her commissions and part-time role as captain as well. While the matter with Raiden Shogun had been resolved, there were still some internal conflicts that required attention. Lumine knew it would take some time to figure out a way to get to Sumeru, so she figured she might as well stay in Inazuma for a while. Who knows? Maybe she would find more information about her brother—

  “Achoo!”

  “Traveler?”

  A sneeze broke their conversation and her thoughts. “O-Oh,” she sniffed, “sorry. It just gets a bit cold in Sangonomiya that I kinda forgot to bring a coat.” Hands rubbed her prickling arms. Yet she didn’t feel like getting up. Not now. Lumine enjoyed talking to Teppei. The stress in Inazuma sometimes got to a point where it was unbearable, and the Herring I captain was one of the people who was able to lighten the burden in her chest.

  It seemed Teppei had the same idea about her as well.

  “Oh…” Thoughts whirled in his mind. Suddenly, an idea flickered in seconds. “I can go get a coat for you if you like! Don’t want my partner to be sick now, huh.” He laughed, cheerful and honest. Hands pressed on the bench, he started to get up. “I’ll be right back—”

  “Wait.”

  His body froze at the feel of her hand around his fingers.

  Brown and gold looked at their hands. Brown and gold then looked at each other.

  “Ah!”

  In unison, they gasped. Lumine immediately retracted her hand while Teppei dumbly plopped himself back onto the bench.

  “You don’t have to!” Heat kissed her cheeks as their roles were now reversed. “I’m not that cold. And besides, ever since you started sitting down, it actually feels warmer—”

  Foolish was an act that bounced back between the two.

  Realization kicked in. Fast. It was obvious in the blown pupils of his eyes. It was clear in the beautiful burst of red in her face.

  Sadly, Teppei was quite quick to catch up on things too. “R-Really?”

  Slim fingers curled slowly. Hands were still raised near eye-level. “Well…” Ah fuck it, she thought. “Really.” She figured there was no harm in being honest. Maybe some shame. “Maybe it’s because of your Vision, but you feel a bit…warmer than normal people.” Thankfully, she had seen and faced this sort of phenomenon with Amber and Xiangling. Although she technically had never hugged Diluc, the man did once offer her his jacket. And wearing it felt warm and toasty, so that was good enough research for her.

  His short laughter brought her attention back to him.

  “I do feel warmer than usual ever since I woke up from that long sleep.” A sheepish reply accompanied the growing red in his cheeks. “But I make sure this time that it wasn’t anything dangerous. Her Excellency said that it’s normal for a Pyro user like me to have some extra body heat.” White teeth gleamed beneath the moon’s glow. “You can say that I’m like a walking heater.”

  More laughter joined in, but it was one-sided this time.

  “Then…may I sit closer?”

  The laughter died down immediately, bafflingly.

  He couldn’t believe what she said. She couldn’t believe what she said.

  “If that’s alright with you…?” The question was timid, sheepish, bursting with shame. Lumine was ready to bolt off the bench and excuse herself for the night. Why would she ask him that, she wondered? The man was of pure heart ever since she met him. He was an honest friend, an enthusiastic one at that. Like most of the people she had met, Teppei’s intentions were true and genuine which became the very reason she was getting close to him—

  “I…don’t mind.”

  The wild tornado of feelings in her mind died down once she heard his reply.

  Those golden eyes were no match for the stars above. “Really?”

  Excitement was real in her tone. The sight of pure joy made his heart burst anew. “Really…” He sounded sheepish, bashful, yearning. One breath. Maybe two. Once he reassured himself that he was calm and collected, Teppei scooted closer. “It’s the least I can do for my partner.”

  She always hated how her heart cracked to hear that term.

  Sorrow was short-lived, hidden behind layers and layers of relief that she practiced over the centuries. “Thank you.”

  He always loved how his heart skipped a beat to see her smile.

  Slowly, the distance between then shrunk. Only an inch teased between their pinkie fingers. In seconds, Lumine could feel the warmth—his warmth. It truly felt soothing. Calming. Yet it also gave her a tiny surge of strength that tickled her stomach. She loved it. She adored it.

  She only wished she had more time to cherish it.

  “Thank you, Teppei…” Her voice mellowed. “For showing me around the Resistance. For helping me out in battles.” Silence was his response. A welcome for her to say further. “For pushing me to end this terrible Vision Hunt Decree.”

  His left fingers clenched rigidly next to her.

  “For coming back alive and well…” Her voice started to get slower. “For inspiring me…” Her eyes started to get heavier. “For cheering me up when I feel…down…” Her head bobbed forward. “For…” A yawn broke out, “being there…”

  Body acting out of reflex, Lumine leaned her head against his left arm.

  Her actions stunned him back to reality. As she talked to him—as if she was talking to herself—Teppei felt hypnotized. Brown eyes were fixed on her like trance. Healthy heartbeat skipped at the sound of her melodious voice. It wasn’t until he felt her body so close to him that Teppei almost jumped with face full of red.

  Silence hummed around them.

  The captain looked at her, entranced and bewitched by such a sight. “That’s a lot of thanks, partner…” Voice a shy murmur, he brought his free hand up to his face. A long sigh escaped his lungs. His right hand remained on half of his face as he stared forward.

  His whole body felt as if he was burning.

  Brown eyes glanced at the sleeping traveler next to him.

  But honestly, His left fingers twitched, stretched until his hand held her right hand, it doesn’t feel bad.

  The mad drumming of his heart echoed in his ears. The soothing sound of her voice kissed heat in his cheeks and neck.

  It doesn’t feel bad at all.

  “Sweet dreams, Lumine…” His left hand gently squeezed her right hand. His face slowly leaned closer to her to memorize every detail, to cherish every moment he had with this fated encounter.

  Ah, he thought, smile soft and shaky, I’m in trouble…

END

[shurisneakers]

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave. 

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

__

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground. 

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up.  “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous. 

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

Next part

[13uswntimagines]

Always Hers (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: A sequel to Always Yours where Kelley introduces Sonnett to reader and they hit it off, and a relationship builds. Basically it’s 7000 words of Emily and reader falling in love, Christen realizing she royally messed up, Tobin freaking out just a touch, and Kelley totally not gloating about it. 

Author’s Note: This was requested by @women-enthusiast​

Emily was terrified. She had been having the time of her life, sat in the front row of an Y/n L/n concert dancing next to Kelley. Hell, during Shut Up and Dance you had even winked in their direction (making all of the girls around them swoon). But about halfway through the show, a very large man had come to stand in front of them.  

He had simply stood and stared, leaving them mostly alone until the very end of the show. He sent them a small smile and an “if you two ladies could come with me please”, before escorting them out of the crowd and deeper into the stadium. Which every turn down the twisting hallway, she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter and tighter. What the fuck was happening? 

“You gotta relax before you have an aneurism. Everything will be fine,” Kelley said quietly as the man led them through a door and into a cozy-looking room. 

A couch sat against one wall, a Stanford sweatshirt thrown carelessly across it and a guitar propped up beside it. The sound of running water gave them a very good guess of what was behind the door on the opposing wall. 

Emily took a deep breath, holding in a gasp. This couldn’t be what she thought it was. 

“If you would please wait here, Ms. L/n will be with you in a few minutes. Feel free to help yourself to the table,” The man smiled, gesturing towards the table filled with water and a fruit tray across from the comfy looking couch. 

Kelley rolled her eyes, immediately making her way over to the food table to peruse the options. She scrunched her nose as she looked over the items. 

“Well this is bullshit,” She mumbled, grabbing a grape and popping it into her mouth. Emily frowned, unsure as to how Kelley could be so casual right now. 

“What?” She asked, stepping towards the table. She blinked at the spread. There was way too much food on the table for one person. 

“There aren’t any chocolate-covered strawberries. They always used to be on her riders,” Kelley mumbled, puffing her cheeks out as she grabbed her another grape. Emily frowned. How the fuck did she know what was supposed to be on the table? She opened her mouth to ask the question, but a voice behind her beat her to it. 

“Apparently they were unavailable this last minute,” Emily whipped around in shock, her eyes bulging at the sight of you in a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top, casually running a towel through your hair. You smiled crookedly at them, your dimples on full display. It wasn’t your stage smile though, Emily noted (barely able to take her eyes off your exposed biceps enough to actually think about it). It was easier, more natural.

“Holy shit, you’re-“ Emily studdered, her brain unable to process that you were standing right in front of her. Your lips quirked in amusement before you looked past the blond to your favorite defender. 

“You couldn’t come and greet us yourself, you had to send oddjob after us?” Kelley asked, tossing another grape in her mouth and crossing her arms. She hadn’t brought Emily here to set you up, but her reaction was definitely amusing. She also hadn’t missed the extra blinks you had given the blond defender. Perhaps her plan was going to work better than expected. 

You rolled your eyes at the woman. Greg had been your security guard for years and she still refused to learn his name. You were just lucky that their presence hadn’t caused a riot in the crowd. 

“You conveniently forgot to tell me that you were coming, and Greg didn’t want a replay of the riot we almost had at the Superdome,” You said, your eyebrow quirking up. She winced at the memory, shaking her head and finally closing the distance between the two of you. 

You huffed her tightly to you, resting your cheek on the top of her head. The two of you swayed lightly as you hugged. It had been way too long since you had seen each other. 

“Missed you sunshine, you never answer your phone anymore” She hummed into your neck. 

“Missed you too,” You said softly, holding her tighter, and ignoring the second statement. The truth was that it was hard, that sometimes when you talked to Kelley all you could think about were your college days. It wasn’t just her that you pushed away, it was everyone. 

You had been friends with the woman even before the two of you went to college. She was your sounding board, your rock, more your sister than your friend at this point, and she hated you were locking yourself away again. 

“You, you’re-“ Emily’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. You squeezed Kelley one last time before returning your attention to the blond standing wide-eyed in the middle of the room. 

You had to admit that she was adorable with her pink cheeks and her hands pinned at her sides, unsure of what to do. 

“You should introduce me before she passes out,” You whispered loudly, nudged Kelley. The older defender smirked at her counterpart. She hadn’t meant for you and Emily to be more than friends, but if it turned out that way, she wouldn’t be upset. You were the sweetest person she knew, even if you had lost some of your sunshine over the years. You would treat the blond defender well and vice versa. You both deserved to be happy. 

“Right. Emily, this is Y/n. Y/n this is frat daddy junior Emily,” She nodded, not missing the eye contact between the two of you. You smiled wide, taking a step towards the frozen defender and grabbing her hand. 

“Well Emily, it’s a pleasure to meet you. A friend of Kelly’s is a friend of mine,” You said, bowing slightly and lifting the back of her hand to your lips. You could be suave when you wanted to be. 

“You said my name,” She said dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open slightly. 

“I think she’s made one too many tackles,” You laughed, glancing at Kelley over your shoulder. The woman facepalmed. The most interest you had shown in another person in nearly a year, and she’s too star-struck to realize it. 

“I swear she’s not usually like this,” Kelley mumbled, and you bit your lip in amusement. 

“Whatever you say Squirrel,” 

*****

Emily smiled down at her phone. The two of you had been texting nonstop since the concert, and she found herself slowly becoming addicted to your sweet and sometimes dirty sense of humor. 

It was interesting, how different you and your stage persona were. 

She learned how quiet and thoughtful you were. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hide the sadness that seemed to linger behind your million dollar smiles. A cautiousness behind every interaction. She wondered what had turned you from Kelley’s so-called sunshine into a cloudy day. 

She bit her lip watching the three little dots, indicating that you were typing, hoping that you would like the restaurant she had chosen. She giggled at your quippyness about how posh the place sounded. 

“Who ya texting that’s got you smiling like that?” Kelley asked, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Emily jumped, her phone nearly falling out of her hands as she rushed to get out of the message, before seeing it was only Kelley. 

“Oh, just Y/n,” Emily mumbled, her cheeks turning very pink.

Kelley smothered her smirk as she sat down beside the defender. “That’s cool, what’s she up to?”

“She’s in town, we’re going to get lunch or something,” Emily shrugged nonchalantly, and Kelley’s smirk got bigger. She wasn’t sure if you would go for it after the whole fiasco with Christen. 

“Really?” 

“You sound surprised?” Emily’s nervous eyes met hers. Kelley paused unsurely. How did you tell one friend that your teammate hurt the girl that she might be interested in so bad that she was terrified of relationships? 

“Y/n got hurt really bad by someone she loved. She hasn’t been the same since,” Kelley said softly. 

“You mean she hasn’t moved on yet?” Emily’s head tilted to the side, trying to understand. She had heard your stories through music, but she never thought about how that might translate into real life. 

Kelley shook her head, biting her lip. After Christen, you had rebuilt your walls and hidden your heart away in your castle so no one could hurt you. That was until you laid eyes on Emily. “She hasn’t let anyone get close to her again,” 

“Oh,” 

“Yeah, Just don’t hurt her, alright?” Kelley hummed, patting Emily’s knee. If you were going to open up the gates again, she didn’t want an army of white walkers marching in. They would pillage the little bit of you that was left. But the way pink traveled up Emily’s neck all the way to her ears told her that her best friend knew how delicate this situation was.

“We’re just friends Kell,” Emily muttered. 

“Whatever you say junior, and for the record, she didn’t text me about lunch,” Kelley laughed, patting her leg one more time as she stood. You two would figure it out on your own time. 

****

Emily smiled at Greg as she passed through the door to the little cafe you had chosen for lunch. He winked at her and pointed towards a table in the back, away from the windows twiddling your fingers nervously. 

All the security and fans staked out everywhere you went took some serious getting used to, as did your propensity for cheeseburgers over anything remotely fancy. Each time the two of you had done this over the past few months you had chosen somewhere with reasonable food and amazing milkshakes. 

The crooked grin you saved specifically for Emily broke across your face when you saw her, and you stood from your chair to greet her in a warm hug. You kissed her cheek and stepped back to pull her chair out for her, before handing her a beautiful (plastic) Rose. It had become a thing between the two of you. You didn’t like real flowers, they died, but fake ones stayed forever. 

“Hey superstar, I’m glad you could make it,” You grinned, pushing her chair in, and taking the seat across from her. 

“Well, you’re too cute to pass up,” She quipped back, enjoying the pink that dusted your cheeks. 

“I ordered you’re regular. Is that ok?” 

“You remembered my order?” Emily asked, her eyes widening in surprise. You felt the warmth in your cheeks travel up to your ears. The truth was that you had known her order after the 3rd time lunch the two of you had done, (and you ordered extra onion rings in case she didn’t want the French fries). 

“Well, we’ve done this a few times,” You shrugged, picking at the table. Her hand covered your own, and you smiled softly at the action, suddenly feeling shy. 

“You’re adorable,” She mumbled under her breath as the waitress set two milkshakes on the table in front of you. Noticing that yours wasn’t your normal chocolate peanut butter concoction and instead was the strawberry one she had tried last time. 

“Hmm, 20 questions?” You asked, sipping your shake (that you definitely didn’t get in case Emily changed her mind). 

It had become your go-to game with the woman, and both of you have always had a blast with the get to know you game. 

“Are you going to answer mine honestly?” She quirked an eyebrow up at you. The last time you had seen each other, you fibbed just slightly (not so slightly) about your new music. You were reluctant to give spoilers, and you told her your lead-off single was going to be a fun song playing off the saying sex on a beech (cake by the ocean). Instead, you had chosen something much sappier, about the start of a new relationship called Begin Again. 

Your fans had gone crazy, trying to put all the pieces together. It seemed they were divided on if you and Christen had gotten back together, or if you were finally moving on. You kept your lips sealed, and it had taken Emily more than an hour to finally weasel to real answer out of you. 

“Scouts honor,” You saluted, taking another drag of the strawberry milkshake. 

“You go first,” Emily grabbed your shake and took a sip, pushing her own chocolate one back towards you. You blinked, thinking for a second. You had never mastered suttelty in normal conversation, and you had no idea how to ask your question. 

“Are you dating anyone?” 

“Nope,” She smiled, popping the p. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Cool. I believe you’re now entitled to a question?”

Emily tapped her chin in thought, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are the rumors true? Kelley won’t tell me,” 

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific babe,” You smirked, smiling kindly at the waitress as she set down your double cheeseburgers. Your life was plagued with rumors. That you were dating this celebrity, that Preath had broken your heart. 

“You dated Christen and all your songs are about her?” Emily asked, grabbing an onion ring off your plate and dipping it in your milkshake. 

“I think dating would be a bit of a stretch,” you snorted, shaking your head. You weren’t sensitive about it anymore considering the media shoved it down their throat every chance they got. Emily waved her hand as if to say go on, you sighed. Despite the media pressure, you hadn’t really told anyone (besides Kelley) about it before.“We were best friends, who occasionally slept together. I caught feelings, Christen didn’t. She wanted Tobin and I was her plaything until Toby was ready.” You said the midfield turned forward’s name mockingly, looking wistfully over Emily’s shoulder. 

She watched you for a moment, taking in the faraway look in your eyes. Her heart ached at the deep line in your forehead that hadn’t been there mere moments before. 

“That was only the first part of my question,” she said softly. You blinked back to yourself. 

“I write about what I feel, so some of them are about her. But lately they’re all about an amazing girl who makes me feel things that scare the crap out of me, things I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again,” Your y/e/c eyes met her blue ones and you smiled softly.

Emily sat up in surprise, anxiety beginning to bubble up in her chest. She liked doing this with you, and she didn’t want it to stop. She opened her mouth to ask her, but your shaken voice cut her off. 

“Would you be my girlfriend?” 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Emily smiled, leaning across the table, cupping your cheek and placing a very sweet kiss on your lips. Your fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the back of her neck as you carefully pulled her closer. You pull away a second later, connecting your forehead and breathing heavy. You would take that as a resounding yes. 

“Does this mean I can hear the rest of the album early?” She asked, her breath fanning across your lips. 

“I’m sure we can work something out,” you said as you leaned in again. Gosh her lips were addictive. 

*****

Distance sucked, but over the past year, you and Emily had made it work. It was difficult with your music commitments and her soccer stuff, but as far as the two of you were concerned, it was worth it. 

Emily laid with her eyes closed, her phone resting on her chest and Kelley sitting beside her as the radio host introduced you to the audience. She was happy to relax and listen to you talk about the thing you were the most passionate about (besides her). 

It was nice to hear your voice, even if it sounded even more tired than it had when you talked the night before. 

She could tell how much the press tour for your new album was taking out of you, and it killed her just a little bit to not be able to comfort you. You hadn’t exchanged the words yet, but she was sure that you loved her as much as she loved you ou. 

“So I’ve got to ask, this album sounds so much different than both Heartbreak Hotel and Divinely Inspired to a Hellish Extent. There’s less pining and a lot more love,” The interviewer asked casually, but Emily could hear the smirk in his voice. The fans were going nuts now that your music had shifted from heartbreak to a blossoming love story. They all wanted to know who (Christen) had you writing sappy love songs. 

“Yeah, I’m in such a different place than when I wrote either of those two albums, and I think that’s reflected in the music,” You volleyed the question, twisting it around so you were answering it and not answering it all at the same time (a skill that Emily both admired and was terrified of). 

“So, it’d be safe to assume that you’re first two albums were about one relationship and this one is about another?” The interviewer pressed. And Emily groaned loudly. God, why couldn’t they just let it go? It had been nearly 3 years since you and Press were a thing. You had moved on and were finally happy, why wasn’t that enough? 

Kelley smirked at the outburst, side-eyeing the defender. She was thrilled that you had finally found someone who would treat you right. Both women were so caught up that they didn’t notice the couple entering the room and sitting on the bed opposite of them. 

“God, why can’t they just let it go?” Christen said loudly after yet another question from the interviewer. All eyes snapped to her, and Kelley raised her eyebrows at the outburst. “Don’t give me that look, I’m tired of them trying to get her to confirm that we dated,” She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning further into Tobin who began to rub her back. 

“I think dating is putting it loosely. If I was her I wouldn’t have just thrown you under the bus, I would have been the fucking driver,” Kelley rolled her eyes. 

“That was uncalled for,” Tobin grumbled. 

“You’re just upset because you didn’t know Forget You was about you,” Kelley snorted. Remembering how Tobin had walked around camp whistling the tune until she had broken the news. (Still, you found it hilarious considering the original lyrics). 

“You know what I meant,” Tobin grumbled. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s tired of it too,” Emily said softly, smiling almost sympathetically at the woman. You had gotten over most of your anger, and insisted that she shouldn’t be mean to Tobin. Love made you all do crazy things. 

“I write what I feel, and I think the only safe thing to assume from that is that I’m happy,” You added, bringing everyone’s attention back to the interview. Emily smiled softly at the phone. You were happy. You had gained your sunshine back, as Kelley put it, and she was glad that she was part of the reason for that. 

“And sickeningly in love?” The interviewer again tried to dig. 

“And in love,” Your smile was visible in your tone. Emily masked her sudden intake of breath. She knew, but it was the first time she was hearing it out loud. 

“I didn’t know she was in a new relationship” Christen’s eyes snapped to the phone in surprise. She knew you would move on eventually, but actually seeing evidence of it was causing all kinds of feelings to bubble in her chest. Feelings she didn’t have the right to have. She made her choice and she was happy too. You deserved that. 

“The new love songs are so sweet. It’s probably her best album yet,” Emily added with a shrug. It wasn’t just the music that was good, it was the knowledge that you were both falling together. That you would be there to catch each other was amazing. (And the memory of you strumming out a few of the love songs in your underwear in a concert just for her was a bonus too).it didn’t matter that the world was sure they were about Christen. Everyone in this room knew they weren’t. 

“I’ll have to listen to it, wonder who it's about,” Christen said thoughtfully. She shouldn’t deny that she missed you. Missed the friend part of your relationship. 

“Someone who knows just how lucky she is,” Kelley said, looking Christen in the eyes. It was no secret that she still harbored ill feelings over what happened between Chris and her best friend. Emily shrunk slightly. The two of you had agreed to keep the relationship on the down-low, and Preath were the last people she wanted to tell. 

Christen’s jaw dropped in surprise. You never talked about your relationships. Not even when you and her were involved. You weren’t good with emotions and it was a more ‘gentle-womanly thing to do’.

A barely audible “She told you?” left her lips. And Emily’s heart rate skyrocketed, thinking that this was about to become even more awkward than it already was. 

“My lips are sealed,” Kelley smirked, running her hand across her mouth in a zip it motion before throwing away the key. She wasn’t about the mess up the most stable relationship you had ever been in, and it was fun to watch Preath squirm. 

Emily took a deep breath. Some relaxing evening this had turned out to be. She went to swipe the radio app away on her phone when your name popped up next to a text. She couldn’t help the edges of her lips turning up. 

You really did have amazing timing. 

*****

Emily loved peaceful nights at camp. Early nights where the team bonding movie ended at a decent hour and they didn’t have early morning practice the next day. Sure her bed's cuddles weren’t as good as yours, but they still comfy. 

She had gotten to talk to you tonight, a long FaceTime. It bothered you how exhausted you looked, how your crooked smile hadn’t met your eyes. The chaos of touring was rough, made even more difficult by time zone differences. But still, you had made time to talk to her, to tell her how much you loved her. 

She idiot wondered what had pulled her out of her sleep, before the soft knock on the door sounded again. 

“Who the fuck is at our door at 3 Am?” Emily groaned loudly, rolling onto her back, and glancing over at her roommate in the other bed. She thought late-night pranks were banned at this camp, and she had been lucky to be roomed with her best friend. 

“I have no clue. Maybe if we ignore it, it’ll go away,” Lindsey mumbled, burying her face further into the pillow, moaning loudly when the knocking got even more insistent. 

“Fuck, I’m coming, cool your jets,” Emily huffed, throwing off the covers and marching towards the door. She flung it open, ready to yell at however the fuck had the nerve to bother them at this hour. But the words died on her lips the second she saw your very tired form leaning heavily against the doorframe, plastic Rose clutched firmly in your hand. 

“you’re here,” she said softly and you flew into her arms. You held her tightly, running your nose along the collum of her neck. She stumbled with the foot-wide, grabbing the doorframe to steady the two of you. 

“Sorry, I just. I missed you. I can’t sleep without you,” You mumbled into her skin, placing a kiss on the spot she loved so much. Emily wasn’t sure if you were apologizing for waking her up, or for nearly tackling her to the ground, but she didn’t care. It was so nice to have you in her arms after nearly 2 months of being apart. 

“Shhh, come in. It’s alright, I missed you too babe,” She hummed, stepping back and pulling you into the room, and closing the door. She grabbed the flower, smiling softly at it before placing it in her nightstand. She could tell how exhausted you were (you had probably flown in right after your show), and the last thing you needed was her teammates coming out to see what the commotion was. 

You mumbled something incoherent into her neck, following her as she sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Babe? Who is it, Son?” Lindsey Asked sitting up and taking in the sight of you basically sitting on Emily’s lap with your head buried in her neck. You looked up at the woman wide-eyed, and she gasped. “Holy shit, you’re Y/n L/n and Disani just called you babe,” 

“Surprise...” Emily smiled, and you huffed into her neck. She could feel your nose twitching, a telltale sign that you were probably about to fall asleep.

“How long?” Lindsey asked breathlessly, holding in the awe at how cute you two looked together. She never expected the big badass singer to turn into puddy in her best friend’s arms. 

“Like a year and a half?” Emily shrugged, shushing you again and running fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp. Your schedule was brutal and you had a propensity to avoid sleep when you were stressed. But on the bright side, she had learned that you always got cuddly when you were sleepy Like a puppy. 

“Damn, That’s why you’re so obsessed with all her music. It’s about you,” Lindsey laughed. Emily’s cheeks turned bright red as she cleared her throat. You weren’t really awake enough to register that your girlfriend was still your number one fan. 

“Let’s get Y/n into bed. You must be exhausted,” Emily said softly, maneuvering so you were both under the covers. You hummed, leaning up to peck your girlfriend’s lips before settling back into your favorite hiding spot. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes, and Emily breathed a sigh of relief as your breathing evened out. You had never been a great sleeper, and she worried about how much you got while you were on tour. You were adorable, even more so when you were sleeping. Your face relaxed and you looked younger. Emily couldn’t help but wonder how the hell Christen ever let you go when you offer up the opportunity to see you so unguarded (a sight your fans rarely got a glimpse of). 

“You know the media is going to think you snuck into the hotel to see Christen right?” Emily murmured after a few minutes, not expecting you to reply. 

“Fuck the media. They need to chill with that Preath bullshit,” You huffed, burrowing deeper into the woman and placing a kiss on her collarbone, completely forgetting that you weren’t alone. You would call your publicist in the morning and have all the rumors squashed anyway (you didn’t want another disastrous interview like the one where Ellen had found pictures of you and Christen from college). 

“Wait you dated Christen?” Lindsey gasped, nearly falling out of her bed, and you groaned incompressible into your girlfriend. 

“A loose interpretation from what I’ve gathered,” Emily giggled, again comparing you to a puppy on her head. 

“It doesn’t matter, we all know who’s bed I was in tonight,” You huffed. 

“Damn right we do,” Emily tilted your chin up to kiss your lips. Emily wasn't the jealous type, but it was hard when the entire world was convinced you were with someone else. It also helped that you were always so sweet with her and made sure she knew how much you loved her. 

You pulled her closer, your fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of her neck as your tongue ran over her bottom lip. God, you had missed her. You moaned lightly when Emily’s tongue met your own. 

You were brought out of your moment by a very loud cough. You sat bolt upright, blinking owlishly around the woman in the opposite bed. 

“No sex while I’m here alright?” Lindsey smirked, amused by this you that few people ever got to see. This adorable side that seemed to be entirely taken with her best friend. No wonder you wrote her so many sappy love songs. 

“You’re no fun Linds,” Emily cackled, pulling you back down beside her. 

It would be a pain in the ass to get you out of the hotel without anyone seeing you, but the risk was totally worth getting to spend time with your girl, even if it was only for a few hours. 

****

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You had won 6 grammy’s the night before, and now you got to sit in the stands while your girl fought for the Shebelieves cup. You hadn’t been to a soccer game since Paris, and you had to admit it was slightly addictive watching your girl be a badass defender. It was one thing watching it on TV for the 3 years you had been dating, and an entirely different one to actually be here. God, she was gorgeous. 

You pulled your jacket tighter around you and shifted your hat down a little bit further. This was Emily’s moment, and you didn’t want to draw any attention away from her. 

*****

Tobin was freaking out, her normally chill persona nowhere to be found. Her hands were shaking and she didn’t know if it was fear or rage. Who the fuck gave you the right to show up at one of their games (sporting a jersey nonetheless) after you had released a song like To Make You Feel My Love. She thought that you had given up on chasing Christen years ago, but why were you here, seeming hiding in the stands. 

The media had been shoving the Preath narrative down your throat for months, maybe it had finally gotten to you. Yet, weren’t you in your own relationship? Maybe they had all read the signs wrong and you were still head over heels for Christen. 

If you were going to finally make a stand for her girl, why had you chosen this venue? She shook her head, heading into the tunnel for halftime, she needed to figure out how to stop your bid for Christen’s heart. 

“You didn’t tell me she was coming,” Tobin growled, passing Kelley as she made her way to her locker. 

Kelley shrugged, unable to suppress her smirk. “She’s not here for you anyway,” 

“She’s wearing a jersey Kelley,” She spat, glaring at the defender, who simply shrugged again. 

“Yeah, so? She wanted to do something nice, prove how much she loves her and all that,” 

Tobin opened and closed her mouth several times, her fist clenching as Kelley all but confirmed her biggest fear. But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

*****

You found it incredibly amusing that your girlfriend couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off you during the second half. Hell, it was so obvious that at one point she had tripped over thin air cause she was looking at you instead of where she was going. 

And by the time the final whistle blew, you had garnered the attention of most of the national team, wondering why their frat daddy junior was so distracted. 

Lindsey got to you first, hopping up onto the railing to talk to you (as you had chosen a front row seat just behind the bench). 

“Hey rockstar, wanna come down and see your girl?” She smiled, leaning over the rail to tug you forward. You glanced behind her, wincing at the glare Tobin was sending you. You tugged your jacket closed again and shook your head. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Linessie,” 

“Oh come on, Kelley and I will protect you so you can serenade Sonnett,” She laughed goodnaturedly, remembering the many times you had convinced your respective best friends to help you surprise your girlfriend. 

“Haha, very funny,” you frowned, biting your lip. You really wanted to see Emily, but from the looks Tobin was sending your way, you weren’t sure if that was a good idea. 

Lindsey’s eyes softened at your hesitance. It was rare you let your softer, more shy side out in public. She knew you truly cared for Emily, and that you were worried your presence would ruin the night for her. 

You glanced at the railing, picking at the chipping paint. “She deserves to savor your win, not have me and my drama on the front page,” 

“Everything will be fine. Emily is super excited you’re here, and when they get a picture of your jersey, I think that all the preath shit will be in the past” Lindsey said softly, grabbing your hand and tugging you onto the field. 

You hid behind Lindsey as she navigates you through her teammates, intent on making it to the frat daddies who were across the field(who just happened to be standing next to Christen). That was until a very angry Tobin stepped directly into Lindsey’s path. 

“I can’t let you go over there Y/n. It’s over, just let it go,” Tobin said, crossing her arms like a petulant child. 

Lindsey rolled her eyes at the woman, attempting to take a step around her. “Chill Tobs, it’s not a big deal,” Tobin again stepped in your way. You frowned. This was why you didn’t want to come down in the field. 

“I think it’s a really big deal that she’s trying to steal my wife,” Tobin huffed, sniffing slightly. 

“What?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. You weren’t here to see Christen at all. You were so busy staring quizzically at the midfielder that you didn’t notice your girlfriend sprinting in your direction until she launched herself into your arms. 

“I’m so glad you decided to come! I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” She mumbled into your neck, and you pulled her closer to you, tilting your head so you could place a kiss on her lips. This moment made everything worth it. 

“You said it was important so I’m here. I’d do anything for you superstar,” You said softly, kissing her cheeks and her forehead, drawing a giggle out of the girl. 

She shoved you lightly, catching you by your jacket collar to pull you back into a kiss. 

“I thought you were an Arsenal fan, not a Chelsea one?” She laughed against your lips, and you pouted. It had been the only jacket in Kelley’s apartment that fit you. You pulled away completely, shrugging out of the offending piece of clothing, revealing your jersey beneath it. 

“I just wanted to hide this until the right moment,” You smirked, ignoring the gasps of the women behind you. (Tobin had been watching dumbfounded from the moment you started hugging Emily, and the large Sonnett on your back had her even more confused. Why were you in Somnett’s jersey if you were trying to win Christen back?)

“God you look good with my name on your back,” Emily smirked, her hands on your hips, pulling you back in for yet another kiss. You smiled against her lips. This hadn’t been your plan, but everything seemed to be coming together. 

“What if it was our name?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at her and tilting your head to the side. She froze, blinking rapidly to process what you were saying. 

You barely registered the “Wait, what?” From behind you, and the slapping sound that followed. You could only assume it was Kelley as she added a “Shut up, she’s been planning this for months,” 

You had been planning this for months. Planning the perfect moment, and it couldn’t have been more perfect than this. You were both winners in your respective fields, and you wanted to be a winner in this too. You had never felt this way about another person. 

 Emily blinked at you again, asking a silent what, and you took that as your cue to continue. “Like, what if Sonnett was my name too, like minus a hyphen?” You shrugged, poking the 14 on her jersey and the matching one on yours before beginning to dig into your pocket. 

“Are you?” She stuttered as you dropped down on one knee, pulling out the ring you had stashed in your pocket. Yeah, this was much better than doing this in some back hallway of the stadium. 

You took a deep breath and looked up into Emily’s eyes, opening the ring box and asking the simple question “Marry me?” 

“Yes,” Emily is on her knees in an instant, cupping your face and kissing you again. She didn’t need a big long speech about how much you loved her (the two albums made your feelings crystal clear), and she loved you too. She couldn’t wait to be your wife. 

“Told you she wasn’t here for you,” Kelley laughed, nudging Tobin and Christen as they gaped at the two of you. How had they not known? 

Christen gulped down her feelings, leaning further into Tobin’s side. You weren’t hers anymore and she was somehow alright with that. 

[wavesmp3]

[ksw] clouds

sunwoo x reader

wc. 5k warnings: medical inaccuracies, death, illness, hospitals, overall just a pretty heavy piece genre can only be described as an absolute mess inspired mainly by san junipero but also slightly by charlie kaufman and wong kar wai

a/n: this is supposed to be told nonlinearly but like the creation of it was very messy so i have no clue if it actually worked, so good luck trying to make this piece make sense of this :) 

act iii. scene iii.

Sunwoo sits and watches the sun shift from pink and blue to an impossible shade of green. And it’s then he knows that without a doubt Clara has ruined the color green for him. Because instead of marveling at the color of the sky, Sunwoo is reminded of the doors in her apartment building.

“Thought I might find you here.” The voice of a stranger who Sunwoo loved once upon a time says behind him. He tries like hell not to turn around. Not to lean back towards the voice and wait for your hand on his shoulder or your shin knocking familiarly against his back. He focuses on the waves crashing below instead. The roar of the water beneath him is deafening, but only if you let it be. He does, and he almost forgets that you’re behind him.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, now sitting next to him, tugging at the long grass. 

“I’m right here.”

“And what about in there?” You bring a finger up and poke at the side of his forehead. 

He turns to you, facing you in full. He takes in your features like it’s the first time all over again. And, oh, he wishes he knew before how many firsts you already had together. This is just another. This is just the first time he’s seen you in the past six months and remembered the thousands of times he’s seen your face before. 

He studied your cheeks. The one he now recalls running the back of his palm over after you left for the Cloud. 

He memorizes, for the millionth time, your eyes. He used to swear they were darker than they are, but then he saw them in the sun. He was dying back then; then he saw your eyes and you saved him. Just like that. 

Mr. Choi was right of course. As he always must be. You and him are like an old married couple. Not like. You are. Almost were. 

“I had lunch with Mr. Choi today.” He tells you. 

You squint at him. “I know. It’s Thursday.” You pull out a piece of the grass. “What’d he make?”

“Ramen.”

“Was it good?”

“It was okay.”

“Too spicy?”

Suwnoo answers with a sigh, looking away from you and back towards the water. The deafening waves crash against the cliffside. “I know you looked at your file.” He finally says. You stop pulling at the grass. You still. “Mr. Choi told me.”

After he says it, there’s a silence that isn’t actually silent at all. The waves rage below his feet. The seagulls are there too, beneath, above, somewhere, everywhere. And then, of course, there’s you and Sunwoo, trying to be silent over the static in your heads and the machines you’re hooked up to in a universe far far away. 

“Did he tell you about my file?”

He looks at you again. “No.”

“Oh.” You look away, brows furrowed, lick your lips, and then turn back to him. “So why are you upset?”

“After he told me, I went and I…”

“You didn’t.”

“I looked at mine.”

There’s another silence, except that this time it really is quiet. Sunwoo read once whilst in a rabbit hole of medical research that true silence only happens in a vacuum, where there is no medium for sound waves to travel through. This must be that. This place, the files, Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, Clara and her apartment building full of green doors--it’s a vacuum. And they stick people in it then call it the Cloud. They call it extra time. But it isn’t. It’s nothing and he’s stuck in the middle of it. So Sunwo stares at you, straight through the vacuum of time and space you’re both lost in, waits for you to say something, and then waits for himself to hear it. 

“You looked?” You finally say, voice folding in on itself. 

“Yes.” Sunwoo’s own voice is barely there. You must be reading his lips which you’ve always been good at anyways. 

“So you know now?” 

“I always knew, and now, I remember.”

act i. scene iv.

There’s been an accident. 

That’s what they say when the sun falls out of the sky and the world starts spinning in the wrong direction. It’s how they show up at Sunwoo’s door painted in shades of blue and red, with authority in their arms and hands on their hips. How they prepare him for the looming moment where they rip past his skin, blood, bone to shoot a gun straight at his heart. I’m so sorry for your loss, they say leaving him with a bullet lodged somewhere between his left and right atrium. 

And those are the four words that play over and over and over in Sunwoo’s head as he gets to the hospital. Those are the words that crawl inside his open chest and turn him blue and black with infection. There’s been an accident, he remembers, staring at the extraordinary measures taken to keep your heart beating and lungs beating. This is it. Except that the accident isn’t that you’re dying, but that you’re dying. It’s always supposed to have been him. He’s supposed to be the one stuffed with tubes and hooked up to monitors, the one whose life is hanging on by a thread, and you’re supposed to be the one that saves him. It all feels like a play that’s gone horribly wrong because everyone switched parts after intermission without telling him. At what point did you steal the role of dying protagonist from him? 

We did everything we could, a stranger in a white coat says. Except that it’s not some stranger, it’s your colleague and co-worker because this is the hospital you work at and the hospital Sunwoo met you in. There was too much damage to the brain, they explain as the image of their tear-stricken face goes from your friend during intern year to the doctor who operated on you as your brain went dead. 

“We have two options, right?” Sunwoo is far too familiar with surgery and all this. He knows from his hospital days what’s supposed to happen next. But apparently, things have changed since then. 

“Actually, there’s a third option.”

Sunwoo doesn’t waste a second. He jumps out of the chair stained red from his bleeding heart and asks: “What is it?”

“We can upload them.”

act iii. scene ii.

In fifty days of living in the cloud, Sunwoo has learned all about the people that he shares a building with. There’s Mr. Chan who lives behind a vomit green on the same floor as him and who hasn’t left his room since last January. There’s also Mr. Choi, who lives behind the emerald door and invites Suwoo over for lunch every Thursday. Clara lives upstairs, where the walls are painted in various shades of green--olive, seaweed, moss, hunter, shamrock, sage, and others that Sunwoo tries not to think too deeply about. He’s only met Clara once in the past fifty days and has no particular wish to see her again. He hadn’t expected her to be a kid. Cancer, you told him after their introduction in the lobby, poor girl was only seven. As said before, Sunwoo tries not to think about it. 

And then of course there’s you behind the forest green door who has been slowly showing him all the good places. There’s the beach where you spent the day making seashell necklaces. The  cafe which serves its tea too sweet for him, but sweet enough to be considered your favorite. Sunwoo just gets the chocolate bread. You took him downtown. To a club. The tallest building. And to midtown where the amusement park is. 

But his favorite place you’ve taken him so far is the cliffside above the beach, where the waves crash against the rocks in a way that can only be described as violent. That day you and him laid in the grass and stared at the clouds with your heads dangling just over the edge and water spraying the backs of your necks. That day you turned to him and told him you’re sorry. For what, he asked. I’m so sorry you’re sick, you said, but it’s nice to have you around here. I think in a sense, we’ve both been waiting for this. Then, you smiled and stole all of the blood from his body. So yeah, that day, that place--it’s his favorite. 

Today, you take him on a hike up a mountain. 

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” You ask him after having spent thirty minutes silently staring at the view from the best peak. 

“One after this?”

“Yeah. I guess. Although, I’m not so convinced this counts.”

“I don’t know.” Sunwoo shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you think we’d be able to be with our loved ones in it?”

His chest lurches. “If there is one, yes.”

“Do you think it’ll be different than this?”

Sunwoo turns to you finally. “Why are you asking about this?”

You shake your head. “Nevermind. It’s a stupid question.”

He turns back towards the view. From here, he can make out Clara’s building. He thinks about her, about Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, who he recently found out were once married but who haven’t spoken since Mr. Chan read his file in January, and he thinks about you and about him. 

“I think,” Sunwoo says, loud enough so that you can hear after wandering a little bit away from him, “that whatever the afterlife is, if it does exist, it’ll be worth it.”

You turn to him, but don’t make any move to come near him again. “And if it doesn’t exist?”

“Then life will have been worth it.”

The corner of your lip lifts. “I like that.”

Sunwoo only nods at the sentiment, and after a long while, he builds enough courage to ask, “you’ve been here a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Time doesn't work as linearly in the cloud as it does in the real world. Sometimes it feels like I got here and then you arrived the very next day.” You turn back towards the view and exhale heavily. 

“But yes. I’ve been here for an eternity.”

act ii. scene i.

Before he actually sees you, Sunwoo feels you. Not you, in particular, but something in the distance, a presence in the corner of the room and a pair of eyes watching him from somewhere far away. 

The scariest part is how much the feeling doesn’t actually scare him. 

--

Two days after that, he starts to see you in the flesh. He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the person he saw in the produce aisle wasn’t actually you at all and was just a stranger with the same hair. 

He doesn’t go straight home from the store that day. Instead, he stops by the hospital and checks in on you, but even that doesn’t do anything about the fact that he sees a shadow of you behind the bed.

--

The day after that, you speak to him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, you speak, you say hello, and the first thing Sunwoo thinks is that he’s dead. 

You aren’t, you reply. You’re a zombie, he reasons, here for my brain. I’m not. A ghost. No. Are you, here Sunwoo falters, fear flooding out of his body to make room for the briefest blotch of hope that’s crushed almost immediately by you saying: I’m not alive, Sunwoo. You saw me in the hospital yesterday. 

“So then,” he swallows, “what are you?”

I’m here. You look at him, stare at his face and without a sliver of doubt say, I’m here for you. 

Sunwoo knows it’s impossible. You can’t be here. You can’t. And yet, you are. 

Three years ago Sunwoo was told he had three months left to live, and he still remembers how impossibly you saved him from the brink of death. He remembers how impossible things happen all the time, and how impossibly possible it is that this is one of them. He steps towards you, touches your face, and feels the real, impossible thing against his hand.��

“You’re here.”

--

On the fifth day of your haunting, Sunwoo finally has the sense to ask why. 

Why what?

“Why are you here?”

I’m here for you.

“Stop saying that.”

But I am, you tell him. You asked, and that’s the answer. I’m a doctor, Sunwoo. I’m here for you. 

Then, finally, he hears what you’ve been saying for the past five days. You’re here for him. 

And the thing about doctors is that they’re there for you when you need them. 

“I’m sick.” 

Yes, you answer quietly, although it wasn’t a question. 

“Again.” 

I’m so sorry. 

“You’re a hallucination, aren’t you?” Sunwoo’s shocked by how sad that makes him, how disappointing it is. “I’ve been hallucinating.”

Find me in the Cloud, Sunwoo. There’s something I want to say. 

You’re gone by the time he gets to the hospital. 

act iii. scene i.

Sunwoo stares at the hall of green doors, eyes darting from door to door in an attempt to stare down the shades until they confess which one of them is tea green.

“Clara, the landlord, likes colors.” A voice says from behind him. “Every couple of months she repaints all of the doors in different shades of the same one. Before the green, it was yellow.” 

Sunwoo turns around to face you. When your eyes find him, they go blank for the smallest of moments. You give him a look that goes right through him, turning him inside out like you’ve seen the underside of his skin. It irks him. 

“I’m Sunwoo. I’m new.”

You gulp. “You’re here.” He doesn’t know what to make of the statement. Do all people in the cloud act like this? “Why?”

Sunwoo nods, maybe you’re not so weird as much as you just have a weird way of posing questions. “I was told I’m sick.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning like you actually might feel back for him. 

“Have you been here a while then?” You nod. “Can I ask how long?” You shake your head. Sunwoo doesn’t think too much about it. Instead, he returns your earlier question “Why are you here?”

“Brain dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

You ignore it and point to a door down the hall. “I’m forest green. You?”

“Tea green. But I can’t find-” 

You tap the door in front of him. “This one, genius.”

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Your mouth parts as if to say something, and your face goes blank again. He feels his skin turning itself inside out because of it. “Have you read your file yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just got here.”

You inhale, softening, and mutter an ‘okay’. You continue down the hall towards your door. Sunwoo is stuck in place. “I can show you around here, if you like. Take you to all the cool places.”

Sunwoo takes you up on it.

A forest green door slams shut down the hallway. 

act i. scene ii.

“Thank you for taking me out of the hospital.” Sunwoo says, exhaling. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a park like this.” 

And it’s true, he really can’t. He’s been sick for so long now, and has been through a multitude of treatment plans and too many surgeries. When you’re sick and have 9 surgeons turn you down after asking them to save your life, you forget the joy of being outside and feeling the sun on your skin. You were the first doctor to agree to the surgery. You’re the only doctor to have ever treated Sunwoo like he wasn’t dying, like he was actually going to live.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is good for me too.” You say, head resting against the park bench and eyes closed. 

Sunwoo inhales, taking in the park with all his senses. A visceral sort of thing you learn to do as often as possible when you’ve been as close to death as frequently as he has. He feels the wood beneath his body and the grass beneath his feet. He feels the light on his skin and the wind pushing against his arms and nose. He listens to the kids screaming at the playground at the bottom of the hill and to the dogs barking within the dog park beside it. He takes all this in, relishes in it for the last time as a dying person. 

You sigh. “One more surgery.” 

“And then I’ll be done with this sickness.” 

You smile. He pretends not to see. “And then you’ll be done.” 

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“No. Seriously.” 

You smile again, this time at him. Sunwoo doesn’t have to pretend not to see. “I haven’t finished saving it yet.”

He leans back against the bench and closes his eyes. “But you will.” 

You tap on your coffee cup. “Honestly though, you did more work than me.” Sunwoo frowns while you take a sip. “The other nine doctors you called are good doctors, and they made the same judgement call I would have made for any other patient. No sane doctor would have agreed to treat you. But you were the reason I said yes. You had such faith that you were going to live and so much faith that I could do it that I believed you. I might be the one doing the technical saving, but you, Sunwoo, you’re the one who convinced me to do it. You saved yourself.”

He stares at you. The light hits your eyes like it’s finding a way to break through them. In truth, before Sunwoo got sick, he didn’t think he was scared of death, but he is. He’s terrified of it. Sunwoo realized it two weeks after his diagnosis and the day after he was wrongly told he only had three more months left to live. But now, for the first time since he was diagnosed, he doesn't feel so afraid of it. Despite how far he’s come and how close he is to beating this fucking illness, while staring at the light woven through your eyes, Sunwoo thinks he could live with himself if he dropped dead tonight. 

That thought alone, is almost as terrifying as death used to be. 

act iii. scene v.

“I saw your ghost, you know.” It’s the first thing Sunwoo has said to you in over two weeks. “It wasn’t actually you though, was it?” You don’t even bother looking up from your cup of tea. Through the silence, Sunwoo orders a coffee. 

“I didn’t know that.” The coffee turns lukewarm. “It wasn’t me.” You push an uneaten half of chocolate bread towards him. “It’s in your brain this time. Symptoms can include hallucinations.”

“Think you can still save me?” You can’t. If you know that much, you know he’s out of medical miracles, and that this time, he really won’t survive it. But it’s a joke. And you laugh at it.

“Definitely not. I never really liked neurosurgery.”

And all at once, he’s painfully aware of your friend somewhere in the real world that does like it but watched anyways as your brain died before her, split wide open. 

“Anyways, how do you know all of this?” But what Sunwoo really wants to say is brains are killer. Literally. Figuratively. 

“I’ve known since we...“ you hesitate, mouth stuck halfway through a word he can’t place. “After last time, I read your chart and looked at your scans.” Sunwoo nods. He expected as much. He doesn’t ask how you got them. “I’m sorry you're sick again.” You say to him quietly. “I’m sorry you’re dying.”

“I’m sorry you’re dead.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he regrets them. Because you aren’t. And he knows you too well to think you’d look past the technicality. 

You scoff, shake your head slightly, and with a spiteful smile say, “Can I say it?”

Sunwoo only sighs. “Let’s start over instead.” 

You nod. He pushes the chocolate bread back. 

act iii. scene iv.

Mr. Choi was the one to recommend that Sunwoo give you and himself space. It’s been a month since you and him last spoke, since that moment hovering above the waves after he read his file and after he found out you read yours. He misses you, and has been for so long now. Mr. Choi was wrong. Sunwoo’s standing outside your forest green door to prove it. 

You open the door before he can knock. There’s no shock in your voice when you say his name, like you’ve been waiting for this day, expecting it. 

He looks behind you, at your apartment in Clara’s building that looks just like your apartment in the real world. The same one he cleaned out after you died, still filled with things he gave to your family or donated or took back to his place. He wants to crumble just looking at it again. “Can I come in?”

“It’s only been a month.”

And he knows what you mean by it. Three months is the recommended time off after reading one’s file. To reacclimate, they say, to process. But the insinuation that Sunwoo was supposed to go three months without seeing you makes him feel sick. The insinuation that after a year of being without you in the real world he was supposed to be without you here too, enrages him. Then he remembers how long you’ve been here, and how long you’ve been doing this and feels slightly murderous.

All he says is: “It’s been a lot longer than that for you.”

Your lip twitches. You lock and unlock the open forest green door five times before saying, “Are you sure?”

He nods. You let him in. 

Sunwoo used to imagine what it would be like to meet you again in the Cloud one day. He imagined tears and hugs and kisses. He imagined i love you’s and i hate you’s and i miss you. He imagined the scenario more times than can possibly be considered healthy. But he imagined something. He was waiting for the day. Waiting for this day. But this moment, sitting at your round wood table while you boil water for tea, is nothing like the million different ways he imagined seeing you again. 

And as you set down two mismatched mugs and take the seat across from him, he doesn’t even try to create one of them. “How long has it been since you read your file?”

You watch the steam rise from your tea for a long moment, then stand, grab the sugar and pour a spoonful of it into your tea. You take another spoonful and look at him expectantly. “Want some?” He nods, and you pour the sugar into his. You stir the tea then taste, then cringe, then add more sugar and then ask if he wants it. He refuses. You stir again. Sunwoo watches the whirlpool and waits the eternity it takes you to say: “I read it on my first day.”  

You put the sugar away, satisfied with the tea’s sweetness while Sunwoo marvels at how long you’ve known and how silently you’ve been carrying the knowledge of you and him since he came. And that knowledge is what makes him finally remember one of the reasons he came. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You look up at him when he asks it, exhaling like you’ve been wanting to bring it up for so long now, which Sunwoo guesses isn’t as much of a simile as he thinks it is. 

“Yes, actually. I…” you hesitate, flicking the mug as if the right words will come hopping out of the tea. Sunwoo watches for it. “I’ve just been here for a long time now, Sunwoo.”

“Two years isn’t that long.”

“Time doesn’t work the same here as it does down there.” You tell him tiredly. “It’s been decades.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“In the beginning, I didn’t mind the waiting. I knew you were on your way, but I just,” you hesitate, “I didn’t think it’d take so long for you to come back to me.” 

Sunwoo covers your hand with his. “I’m sorry.” You twist your palm into it, squeeze, then pull your hand away. Sunwoo swallows. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I know. I waited.”

“Do you regret it?” Sunwoo’s terrified of what the answer might be.

You don’t give it. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then?”

“I’ve been here for so long, and,” your head drops, voice breaking under the weight it carries, “it’s been so lonely.”

“But I’m here now.” Sunwoo says, leaning forward against the table. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know you’re here. I know, and I thought that would fix it, but it didn’t. Seeing you in the hall that day was so bittersweet, because you were here but that also meant you were somewhere else dying. Because you were here and I still felt lonely.” You stop, chugg the remaining bits of your tea, and then wipe your cheeks. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No.” But it’s a lie. He does get it. He knows all about loneliness and the way it creeps inside, so slyly. The way it starts small and then grows, feeding on negligence, until it's too big for your body. He knows how it sits inside you, for all its enormity, and spills into everything. He knows how it lingers. How it has nothing to do with people or lack of them and everything to do with grief. Sunwoo knows all about loneliness. The day he read his file he felt a dam of it burst open within him. 

“I’m saying that in the real world I saved you, and now it’s your turn to save me.” You gulp. “I’m saying that I want you to unplug me.”

It takes a moment for Sunwoo to even register what you’ve said, but when he does remember the life support that’s keeping your body alive somewhere in a universe far away, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands and walks out of your apartment. 

act i. scene iii.

“Doctor, please present.” The attending announces, stepping into Sunwoo’s room for rounds. 

“Mr. Kim,” a resident starts, flipping open his chart, “was diagnosed 14 months ago and has gone through several different treatment plans. When he came to us, the illness had spread and was deemed inoperable and untreatable by several other physicians. Our treatment plan was aggressive and grueling but ultimately, effective. Sunwoo is 20 days post op from his third and final surgery. The surgery went extremely well with no complications and his vitals were excellent. He has been a model patient all throughout recovery, and according to our latest scans, he is also now illness free…”

Sunwoo doesn’t even bother listening to the rest. 

--

“So, now that I’m no longer a patient, if I ask you out on a date, will you actually say yes?” 

“Well,” you say, signing his discharge papers, “only one way to know.”

“What is it?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Ask me again.”

He does. 

You say yes. 

act iii. scene v. take ii. 

“I saw your ghost.” The first thing Sunwoo says after the last failed attempt.

You look up from your tea. “It wasn’t me.” 

“I know.” Sunwoo orders another coffee. “But the hallucination was how I knew I was sick again. It made me feel like you were trying to warn me, like you were up here somewhere caring from a distance. Right after I pieced it all together you told me to find you here and that there was something you wanted to say.” The coffee turns lukewarm again. Sunwoo can’t bring himself to say it. You sigh and push the same piece of chocolate bread back towards him. This time, he takes a bite from it. And with a mouthful of chocolate bread, he cries, “I just got you back, and now you want to leave all over again.”

You frown. “I didn’t want to leave the first time, and it’s different now.”

“How?”

“I want to go. Isn’t that worth something?”

“And what about what I want?”

“Oh, Sunwoo,” you say, “I’m sorry you’re sick. The hallucination was you and your head, but for what it’s worth, I have been up here caring from a distance. I still…” you don’t need to say the words. He knows. He never had to doubt it. “I never stopped.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked of me.” Sunwoo tells you. He made the decision last week but today, right now, with your confession still falling through the air, is the first time he’s had the stomach to swallow it. “And I’ll do it. I will. I just need some time. You’ve had so long and in comparison I’ve had nothing.”

“Okay.” You say simply.

“How long can you give me?”

You smile. “You know I’d give you an eternity if you asked for it.”

“I’m scared.” Sunwoo confesses then. “I know it’s what you want, but selfishly, I don’t want to let you again. I don’t know if I’m a big enough person to do it.”

“I do.” You say to him, leaning forward against the table and looking straight through him. “I know because I was your doctor. I have cut inside your body, seen all your organs, and during surgery two, I held your heart in my hands. I felt it beating. So I know exactly how big it is, and I know it’s big enough for this”

Sunwoo feels the heart you worked so hard to repair bursting inside of him. 

“God. Why’d you have to read your file so soon?”

You laugh. “I missed you. I couldn’t help it.”

And just like that, you’ve stolen the entire concept of fear from him. 

“I’m ready.”

“What?”

He looks at you and feels the loneliness slither away.

“Ask me again.”

[alisonsfics]

reconnected

pairing: shawn mendes x reader

request: “hello. i was wondering if you could write where y/n and shawn met at school or on vine or idk at a coffee shop. both of us were young new artists and bonded over that. as both of us start getting popular we lose contact. a few years later we decide to collab on a song and that rescinds a spark of friendship and maybe something. but of course, I wanted to at a bit of drama. while you try to catch up on, you know life, the paparazzi are sure you two are together, shawn's ex is stringing up trouble and all your friends and family keep on bothering you two about each other” - @iwishiwasyuri

word count: 2.7k

It had been a peaceful day. You had woken up early and started a day of productivity. You were currently drinking a cup of tea and replying to a few business emails.

It was peaceful. Birds were singing outside. It was early, and it felt like the world was not awake yet. This moment of serenity almost felt like the calm before the storm.

Then, your phone buzzed and shook your desk in the process. You were taken out of your thoughts.

You glanced down at the lit screen. You noticed a text message had popped up on your screen.

Woah.

You hadn’t seen that name in years.

Shawn.

Shawn Mendes.

You and Shawn had known each other for years. You both bonded over being singers and the rest was history.

You two had a beautiful story, much like a fairytale. The way you both met felt like a page out of a novel.

You had been at your local coffee shop, way before you had become successful in the music industry world.

It was back when you uploaded videos of yourself singing covers on YouTube. It was simple and seemed mediocre now, but at the time you loved it. You were singing all the time and it was your dream, even though you made virtually no money. You still loved it.

You jumped up into the seat at the high table. You pulled out your laptop to edit your most recent video. You sipped on your warm latte. It made you feel warm and cozy, as opposed to the freezing weather outside.

You plopped your headphones over your ears and started to edit the video. Within seconds, you heard a voice talking over your shoulder.

“So you’re a singer?” The voice asked. You jumped, almost managing to fall out of the chair. You felt a pair of strong arms catch you and keep you from falling.

Finally, you got a chance to look at the source of the voice. You had been prepared for it to be some creepy guy, but you were wrong.

So wrong.

The guy was cute and had the most perfect smile. You were speechless. You froze, and your brain shut off.

“Hi, uh sorry about that. I’m Shawn. It’s just, your headphones are unplugged. I was going to tell you and I realized it was you singing. I’m sorry I scared you” he said, kindly. You had to pinch yourself to realize this was all real. “I...uh hi. I’m Y/N. I was just zoned out, it’s not your fault. But hi, I’m Y/N” you rambled.

His smile made your stomach do flips. You felt like you were on a rollercoaster.

“Yeah, you said that already” Shawn said, chuckling. It was endearing. He wasn’t laughing at you, he was just amused by the cute girl who was stuttering over her words.

You didn’t know it then, but he thought you were adorable.

You thought the exact same thing about him.

The story went on. You two became great friends. You never got the courage to mention your little crush on him, but time went on.

As you both got busier, you started to drift apart. Eventually you just stopped talking. Any time you heard his songs on the radio or saw an article about him, it just pulled on your heart strings.

But now he was texting you.

Hey, Y/N. I know it’s been a while, well maybe longer than a while. It feels like forever. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up and talk. I really miss you

You were stunned. You could barely comprehend what you were reading.

It felt like a crazy dream, and you were about to wake up any second now.

You picked up your phone and tried to come up with a reply. It was harder than you thought it would be. How did you put years worth of feelings into just a few sentences?

Hi! It has been forever, I miss our late night runs for ice cream. I would love to hang out and catch up. I want to hear about all that I’ve missed. I hope you’re doing well!!

You pressed send and your heart leaped out of your chest. You could hear your heart thumping in your ears.

As you sat there waiting for a reply, it felt like years. In reality, it was probably five minutes.

Then, your phone dinged.

Awesome! You want to come over to my place in like an hour?

You almost jumped out of your chair. You couldn’t believe you were finally going to see Shawn after all these years. You sent a quick reply and then headed to your closet to get dressed.

You grabbed some clothes to change into and then proceeded to change your outfit four more times. Finally, you had settled on the best option. You checked the clock and saw that it was time to go.

You grabbed your phone and your keys and then headed to Shawn’s apartment.

You found yourself outside his front door, unable to move. You wanted to pick up your hand and knock on the door, but you couldn’t. Every time that you got close, you chickened out.

It had been years since you had seen Shawn. What if he changed? What if he didn’t like you anymore? What if you embarrassed yourself?

Every time another one of thoughts popped in your head, it became harder to try to knock on that door.

You took a deep breath and tried to still your shaking hands. You felt a small moment of confidence. Before it went away, you quickly knocked on the door.

Your pulse quickened. You felt the extreme urge to just run away. Before you could do that, the door opened.

There he was.

He looked different in person. Magazines and social media had been the only place you saw him for years. Now, three feet in front of you, you were almost shocked that he was three dimensional.

“Hi” was all you get out.

You were absolutely frozen.

“Hey” he said, slowly. He seemed to also be at a loss for words.

You looked him up and down, taking in all of his features. His hair was longer now. His shoulders were broader and he was so much more muscular now.

You were almost drooling over his arms in the tight shirt. Your lingering gaze left his body and you met his eyes.

Small smiles appeared on both of your faces. He grabbed your hands and pulled you into a hug. His tight embrace was comforting. His strong arms around you made your heart swoon.

After a while, you both pulled away. Once again, you couldn’t get rid of the grin on your face. “So how have you been?” He asked, looking into your eyes.

You started to tell him about major changes in your life that he had missed. While you were talking, his hand naturally slipped into yours. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as you spoke.

Your heart was racing at the speed of sound. It felt like a dream. There was no way you could really be standing in front of Shawn after all these years.

“It’s so good to finally see you again. I’ve actually been wanting to ask you something” Shawn said, after you finished talking. You were immediately intrigued, but also worried.

“And what is that?” You asked, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I was wondering if you would want to collab on a song sometime. I really love your music, and it would awesome to work with you” he told you, honestly.

You were taken aback. “I would love to. Is that why you invited me? To use me for monetary gain?” You teased him, giggling. He chuckled and shook his head. “No, that’s not why I wanted to see you again” he said, with a certain sparkle in his eyes.

You started gazing into his eyes, and it became harder and harder to stop. You didn’t notice, but you both started to step closer together. What you did notice was Shawn carefully placing his hand on your waist. He did it so lightly that you almost thought you imagined the lingering touch.

Before you both started to lean in, there was a loud commotion outside the front door. You both quickly jumped away like teenagers caught doing something mischievous.

Shawn sighed and headed towards the door to check who it was. He looked through the peephole and then quickly backed up. You were confused by his urgency.

“Who is it?” You asked, curiously. He didn’t answer you right away. He walked over to a wall and quickly closed the curtains. “The paparazzi are here” he said, walking back over to you.

“Well then I guess you’re stuck with me until they leave” you said, smiling as you walked over to the couch. You plopped down on the couch, and Shawn joined you seconds later.

“So do you want to watch a movie because you’re going to be stuck here?” He asked you, grabbing the remote.

You nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder. He didn’t expect you to do it, but he leaned into your touch. He pressed play on a movie and then put his arm along the back of the couch.

Slowly, as the movie continued, his arm moved from the couch to your shoulders. The way he transitioned was so natural, like he was used to having his arm around you. It felt good, and was definitely something you could get used to.

The movie became dull, and you glanced up at Shawn. You found yourself admiring his features as he watched the screen.

Then he caught you.

He looked down into your eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up as you were caught. “Hi you” he said, sweetly. You just smiled and then cuddled further into his side.

“Hey wait. I wanted to ask you about something?” Shawn said, pausing the movie.

You looked back up at him. It was hard to not smile. You always felt happy when you were around Shawn.

“So, I know that we haven’t seen each other in years, but there’s been something I’ve always wanted to tell you. Since the day we first met, I have—” Shawn started to say before he was interrupted.

Your phone loudly started ringing. It distracted you from what he was saying. You glanced down at your phone. It was your mom calling.

“I’m so sorry. It’s my mom, I have to take this” you said, apologetically setting one of your hands on Shawn's. He nodded. He was always so understanding.

You quickly answered the phone. Before you could say hello, your mom started interrogating you.

“Are you and Shawn finally together?” She asked, very quickly. You were taken aback by the question and also how fast she had asked that. “Uhh...no. Why would you think that?” You asked her, confused.

“The pictures are everywhere. It’s you walking into his house, and there’s a picture of you two hugging. All the tabloids are saying you two are together. I know that I shouldn’t trust tabloids, but I’ve always wanted you two to date. You are both so great together. Plus, he’s very handsome. So, you have good taste” your mom rambled, only stopping when she ran out of breath.

“Woah woah woah. Slow down. I promise you, Shawn and I are not dating” you assured your mom. Only then, Shawn started to listen to what you were saying. He had been trying not to listen or eavesdrop, but you were right next to him.

He just smirked at you. You saw it and rolled your eyes at him, as you tried to hold back from laughing.

Eventually, your mom said she believed you and hung up the phone. “I’m sorry about that. She started listening to the tabloids” you explained to him. He chuckled as he looked at his own phone. “That’s okay. All my friends are texting me about it too” he told you, smiling.

“Well then I guess you’re stuck with me as your fake girlfriend” you said, sticking your tongue out at him. He put his arm around you and then you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you” he said, softly.

You started to trace shapes on the back of his hand. “I’ve missed you too” you said, at the same volume.

You felt Shawn kiss your temple and you felt the heat rush to your face.

“So what were you going to ask me before?” You asked him, giving him your full attention. Just as he was about to tell you, there was a loud knocking at the front door.

Shawn groaned and then stood up. He walked over to the door. He looked through the peephole and just sighed.

“Hang on a minute” he said to you. Then, he opened the door. You couldn’t see the door from where you were sitting. “Hey there sweetheart” you heard a girl say, and your blood ran cold.

Did Shawn have a girlfriend? You had never even brought it up. You felt so stupid. Of course he had a girlfriend. It had been years. You had been sitting here hoping he would make a move, but he was taken. He was gorgeous, any girl would be lucky to date him.

“Ashley. What do you want? We broke up. Stop acting like it didn’t happen” Shawn said, sternly. It threw you even farther off guard. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it seemed like Shawn was actually single.

“I just saw on Twitter that coffee shop girl was here before. If you are dating, I want you to know that you can do better. I’m still single and you know I’m hotter than her. Just come here and kiss me so all those paparazzis will know you’re mine again” you heard Ashley said.

You felt disgusted listening to her talk. She was being really rude to both you and Shawn. “Goodbye Ashley. Go ruin somebody else’s day” Shawn said, closing the door.

He walked back over to you. He looked defeated. “So that was...?” You asked. “My ex-girlfriend. I know, bad idea” he said. You didn’t know what to say.

Shawn cursed under his breath. He looked furious. You stood up and walked over to him. “Hey it’s okay. It’s no big deal. We’ll just move on. You don’t have to worry about it” you said, trying to console him. You didn’t know why he was so upset of all a sudden.

“No, it’s not okay, Y/N” he snapped at you. You jumped away from him. You visibly flinched. His eyes softened when he saw you back away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted, it’s not your fault” he said, hanging his head low.

“It’s just— I’ve tried to kiss you three times today, or at least just tell you how I feel. Every time that I try, something gets in the way. I haven’t seen you in years and I just want get this off my chest. I feel like we have something special. I don’t know if you feel it too, or I’m just crazy. I really just want to kiss you, but I’m afraid something will get in the way if I try” he confessed.

You were shocked. This was the last thing you expected him to say. You had always wished that your connection was more than just friends, but you had always second guessed it. You always assumed that you were just making it up.

“Well, there’s nothing stopping you now” you said, coyly. He quickly looked up to meet your eye contact. He looked unsure, so you made the first move.

You walked towards Shawn and placed your hands on his chest. “What are you waiting for?” You asked him. That was all the clarity he needed.

He instantly connected your lips and wrapped his arms around your waist. It felt perfect. That sounds cliche and unrealistic, but the mixture of years of feelings and yearning made the perfect combination.

You both pulled away and couldn’t look away from each other’s eyes. “I guess I should call my mom back and tell her I lied” you said, giggling.

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[quitefair]

Hi.

If you’re reading this, I’m not on the Internet anymore.

Lmao that’s drastic… okay fine, I guess I’ll start from the beginning.

Ever since COVID I guess, but if I really think about it, it’s been going on for longer than that – I’ve felt that my brain didn���t really belong to me anymore. I used to enjoy being in my own thoughts, used to be comfortable in just allowing myself to be still and silent and ruminating on all the weird and wonderful things inside of my own head. This is most likely because of my (diagnosed) primarily inattentive type ADHD and (undiagnosed) autism, but it was honestly just a good ol time inside of my head.

Fast forward to today. I can barely stand to be alone in my head. I’m constantly craving stimulation, constantly searching for the next big rush of dopamine. I’m currently medicated for my ADHD, which is doing wonders for my concentration and performance at work, but I still felt that something wasn’t quite right. That something had changed in the past few years.

I used to get deeply excited over holidays. Used to be excited over the little things – like going to the movies or going out for dinner with family or friends. Used to feel so engrossed in the next best book or movie or TV show that I consumed, used to have that excitement fuel me for days, weeks, months. How I used to deeply analyse them and pick apart symbolism and themes over that longer period of time.

The last trip I went for, and the first big family vacation in like 5 years was absolutely fantastic. I had a great time and really enjoyed myself. And yet. There was that deep seated undercurrent of what I can only describe as anxiety. That there was something there that I couldn’t quite chase. Something that didn’t allow me to be fully present with my family, fully present in the beauty of the Cornish seaside, just… fully present.

This permeates my daily life at home and work as well. Yes, my work is busy and demanding, high stress and non-stop. And yet I know that on certain days when the work is lesser and that I actually have some space and time, I will still feel like my head is going to explode.

 The reason for this? Yeah. It’s social media.

Sure yeah, there’s a lot of other reasons for it. But I’ve been thinking and thinking about this for going on almost three years now. And nothing else comes close to answering the question of why.

I read Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport in like… 2020? The book mentions something called a ‘digital declutter’. At the time of reading it, I assumed it was the same as a ‘digital detox’ – something I was all too familiar with. I have done digital detoxes in the past – completely abstain from all social media for a set period of time. I downloaded Freedom (I’ve paid for it so I have the full benefits, but there are other alternatives like Leechblock as well) and set about blocking things so I could not access them. These worked out great – I ended up feeling refreshed after a while and once I got back to things as usual, I was feeling great.

But that was the problem. Getting back into things.

The three rules for Cal’s 30-day Digital Declutter are as follows:

1.     Take a break from all optional technologies

2.    During the break, explore and rediscover activities and behaviors that you find satisfying and meaningful

3.    At the end of the break, come back to those optional technologies and reintroduce them into your life, but:

a.     determine the value it serves in your life and

b.    how specifically you will use it to maximise its value

I used to go into my past digital detoxes very suddenly and spontaneously (thanks ADHD), and sometimes yeah, I’d stick to it. But I’d always end up just falling back into those old toxic habits. Which were obviously not that great for me and led me back to square one. The Digital Declutter on the other hand was something different. Something that would lead to permanent effect and potential change in lifestyle.

Once I took some notes (and yes, this is the first time I’ve taken notes from a non-academic book in my entire life), I started to figure out what exactly would entail a Digital Declutter.

Firstly, I had to list down all optional technologies. Cal defines these as any ‘new technology’ – i.e., apps or websites or any related digital tools made to entertain, inform or connect. He considered these technologies optional unless its temporary removal would harm or significantly disrupt daily operation of personal or professional life. There was some discussion regarding video games and television/streaming video, but highly encouraged people to consider these a part of the optional technologies.

He also highly encouraged people to figure out what was ‘convenient’ vs ‘critical’ technologies when listing down things that would be blocked for the month ahead.

The second thing was that prior to starting your Digital Declutter, you need to find high quality analog activities that you used to enjoy before being sucked into the void of social media.

This was honestly the biggest problem for me in the past – I would just cut off all social media, and then end up sitting staring at the wall and feeling more depressed than before. If you don’t fill the time you used to spend on optional technologies with anything else, you will quite obviously fall back into old habits pretty quickly.

I’ve already made a list of things to do in the next month – the biggest thing is helping my family prepare for our first big Deepavali party since COVID, so that’s probably going to be occupying most of my time. I’ve already spent the most of the last weekend cleaning up my copious abandoned musical instruments in preparation for this. But I’ve also got a list of other things to do when I’m sat in my room alone, ruminating and being depressed.

(Reading is a big one – I bought so many books while I was on holiday in the UK ((objectively UK bookstores are better than anything I can find locally)). Then there’s painting the bajillion Warhammer figurines I have lying around my room, and I’ve already bought paints for them in preparation for this. There’s also practicing the piano and guitar and the countless other aforementioned abandoned musical instruments that could be time-occupying activities for my frazzled brain. There’s also exercising and cleaning up my extremely messy room and writing… god I feel like writing so badly but the Internet has fried my brain so bad that I feel like I can’t even write a single word that I like.)

Reintroducing social medias will be at the end of all of this. I can already kind of predict what I’m going to maintain and what I’m going to continue abstaining from. Twitter and Facebook and Instagram are giving me big abstain vibes. Tumblr has always been a source of comfort because of its very old school Internet layout and tagging system – which is why I’m choosing to post this here instead of anything else. At some point I am going to force myself to learn html and make my own website (yes that’s going to be a thing) and maybe I’ll just fuckin blog from there instead. But that’s for later Meera to think about.

Anyway, I went this entire 1200+ words without mentioning when I’m going to be doing this. I’m doing the entirety of October 2022 by the way. No Tumblr, no Twitter, no nothing. If you want to contact me – there’s Whatsapp (if you know me IRL and/or you’re special enough to me that you know my number) or email (if you know me well enough you can ask me for my email and we can trade letters like we’re sickly children in Victorian England and I’m dying of consumption). But I’m starting this on October 1st (Saturday). If I’ve been scarce on these social medias it’s because I’ve been preparing for this and also fuckin busy at work as per usual.

So yeah. That’s that. See y’all on the other side I guess.

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (OC)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Maggie hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it. 

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.” 

He carefully set the phone back on the bedside table, and then his arms came around her shoulders. He let out a long sigh, the one she’d gotten quite used to over the last year and a half— the one that meant he had to go. She squeezed him around the middle and let out her own sigh. “Case?”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

She glanced at the bedside table to the alarm clock that read 4:57am. They both knew he needed to leave within the next half hour if he was going to make it on time, but neither one made any effort to move. Instead, they breathed together in the pre-dawn stillness— a single moment of peace before the world and all its ugliness could crash through the fortress they’d constructed around their space and around each other.

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered. 

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

She lifted her head at the tears in his voice. “Hey.” She shifted in the circle of his arms to prop herself up on his chest. “You’re not gonna miss all of it. You’ll miss this one appointment. And it’s— it’s not even an important one,” she assured, gentle fingers swiping away the lone tear that had managed to escape over his lash line. 

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips before sitting up and deciding to reassure him in the only way she knew how. “Okay, doctor. Eleven weeks. Tell me what we’re gonna find out today.” 

She pulled him up out of bed, interlacing their fingers and pressing their shoulders together. As she led him to the bathroom, he explained, “Dr. Layton will do the first ultrasound, and Baby will look more like a baby now. At around ten weeks they made the transition from embryo to fetus. They’ll be about two inches long.” 

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“Did you know they’re breathing now?” he asked, and she smiled at the way the excitement crept into his voice. “Between weeks ten and eleven, the fetus starts to inhale and exhale small amounts of amniotic fluid, which aids in the development of their lungs. It’s kind of like they’re breathing underwater.” 

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

He nodded vigorously as he applied toothpaste to the bristles of his brush. “We should be able to hear it, although sometimes it’s too early— depending on the accuracy of the estimated date of conception.”

He ran the water over the toothbrush before popping it into his mouth. She kissed his shoulder and then moved back into the bedroom, shuffling into their closet for his go bag. She checked it over on her way back to the bathroom, ensuring it had been fully repacked after the last case. She set it on the counter and placed his toiletry bag inside, leaving it open for him to pack his toothbrush and then sitting on the closed toilet lid. 

He rinsed his mouth and put his travel cap over the head of his toothbrush, gesturing with it and then dropping it into the bag. “They’ll do some routine lab work to test for things like gestational diabetes, and we can also choose to do additional screeners for chromosomal abnormalities and possible complications.” He looked at her then, and she saw the despondence creeping back in. “I should really be there, just— just in case.”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He let out a breath and pulled her into his arms, and they held each other in the silence, the soft light from the vanity washing over them. His phone buzzed with an incoming message, and she knew he needed to get on the road. Still, she held him for a second longer, and then they shuffled through the door and into the bedroom together. 

Maggie made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers. 

She covered his hand with her own and laced their fingers together. “Maybe you could ask Luke if you can FaceTime with his phone. You can probably take twenty minutes, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Maybe I should just upgrade my own phone.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Couldn’t upgrade for me, but once a baby comes along you’re ready for an iPhone.” 

“That’s not— you— you shouldn’t have to do all of this alone,” he huffed, and she realized her joke didn’t land when his voice cracked at the end. 

“Spence, I’m— I’m just teasing.” She lifted her hands to his face, pulling him closer and meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry; you’re upset, and that wasn’t nice.” 

She leaned up to kiss his forehead, letting her lips linger and breathing him in. “But I’m not alone. With you, I feel— the opposite of alone.”

“Irritated?” he offered. 

“No,” she laughed. “Supported, and cared for, and loved,” she corrected with a smile. “You’ve been all of that since day one. And I know that’s not going to change, whether you’re physically present in that doctor's office or not. Right?” 

When he nodded, she continued, “I love you. The most. And you are easily the best baby daddy on planet earth. Okay?”

The term of endearment dragged a smile from him, as it always did. “Okay.”

She leaned forward to press her lips to his, both sets upturned and a little dry from sleep. “Now, you need to go, or you’re gonna be late.”

“I know.” He kissed her again, long and slow, and then pulled back to lean their foreheads together. He hesitated for another ten seconds before standing to grab his bag from the bathroom. 

When he re-emerged, she reminded him, “Ask Luke about the FaceTime thing. I’m sure he won’t mind, and we can trust him to keep the secret. The appointment technically starts at 1:00, but I probably won’t be seen until at least 1:30.”

He crossed to give her another kiss. “I love you.” He crouched to press a kiss to her tummy. “And you.”

“We love you, too,” she smiled, fingers tangling in his curls. “And we’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

She kissed him one more time— couldn’t help herself. And then his warmth was gone from the bed, and the house was suddenly much too quiet. She snuggled back down under the duvet, her head on his pillow and the scent of his shampoo shrouding her senses and easing her mind.

Spencer really was supportive— endlessly so. Not overbearing, but interested and involved in every moment: reading all the newest research, bringing home her favorite treats, writing out a color-coded timeline of all the appointments and milestones. She wasn’t lying when she called him the best baby daddy. He was always there for her. So much so that the apprehension she’d had at the beginning of this surprise journey was nowhere to be found. 

As she drifted back into sleep, there he was again— she could almost hear the jangling of his keys in the bowl in the entryway, his feet on the stairs, the rustling of his pants and sweater being discarded onto the floor of their bedroom. 

And then she felt the warmth of his palm low over her tummy, coming to rest over the barely-there bump. She felt his lips on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her back. When she went to cover his hand with her own, her exhausted brain registered that it wasn’t a dream at all.

She turned her head, blinking her eyes open to see him smiling at her and drew her brows together. “What’s going on?”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder, snuggling even closer and rubbing his thumb along her belly. “I’m, um— I told Emily I’m gonna consult from home on this one.”

…

“Okay, Mom, this’ll just be a little bit cold.”

Dr. Layton smoothed the gel over Maggie’s lower abdomen, and Spencer moved to thread their fingers together, shifting to stand even closer to the examination table. The ultrasound machine gave off a low hum as the doctor adjusted the wand over her tummy. She felt Spencer press a kiss to her temple and turned to smile brightly at him before turning back to the black and white screen. 

At her first appointment five weeks ago, she’d been by herself— alone and uncertain and terrified— and she’d declined the option of the ultrasound. It felt wrong to see the baby before Spencer even knew about them. Now, together with him, with her soon-to-be husband— she was more than ready to see their baby for the first time. And she could practically feel Spencer’s excitement next to her, his body nearly vibrating with it. 

“Ah, here they are. Hello, Baby Reid.” Dr. Layton pointed to a small, white figure on the screen. “Okay, right here, you can see their big ol’ head— perfectly normal size for this stage of development,” she assured, eyes deftly scanning the image in front of her. “Everything looks great! Now, I’m just trying to find…” 

She adjusted the wand over Maggie’s tummy, and suddenly a wub wub wub came over the tinny speaker of the machine. “There we are,” Dr. Layton smiled. “Very strong heartbeat.”

Spencer squeezed Maggie’s hand, and she felt the drop of a tear on her shoulder. She brought her other hand over to cover their tangled fingers, rubbing her thumb along the skin of his wrist and kissing his arm. 

Dr. Layton made a slightly perplexed humming sound, moving the wand again and losing the sound of the heartbeat, only to pick it up again— this time slightly faster. Maggie’s own heart stuttered a little as the doctor moved the wand again twice more and then cleared her throat. “Is something— is everything okay?”

She turned to Maggie with a kind smile. “Yes, yes,” she confirmed, and then she raised her eyebrows. “Just— do you hear the difference?” 

Spencer tilted his head in consideration, drawing his brows together and straining to hear. The doctor shifted the wand once more, allowing them to hear the two distinct patterns. 

Two distinct patterns, Maggie realized. 

Dr. Layton pressed the wand a little more firmly into her abdomen, moved it just slightly. “Those are two different heartbeats.” She pointed to the screen. “And those are two different babies. There’s a matching set of Baby Reids in there.”

Maggie couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “Is there—” She turned to Spencer incredulously. “Do twins run in your family?”

He shook his head silently, eyes wide. “Yours?”

“Nope,” she squeaked. 

“This obviously changes things slightly,” Dr. Layton explained, cleaning up the residual gel. “I’d like to see you every three weeks rather than every four. Then at twenty eight weeks, we’ll see how we feel, okay?” 

She smiled gently as Maggie and Spencer nodded dumbly. She removed her gloves and stood. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes. I’ll be back with your photos in a bit, and we can talk about any questions you might have.”

The door closed behind her, and the room was bathed in silence. Maggie sat up carefully and swung her legs over the side of the examination table. She looked down at her tiny, unassuming bump and felt a tear slip over her lashes. 

“Are you— are you okay?” Spencer whispered. 

She brought her gaze to his, found them teeming with barely restrained joy and yet the ever-present worry. “Well,” she started. “I, um— I always imagined two kids.” She brought her hands up to her sweaty cheeks and held her own face between her palms. “I guess this is— you know— just a quicker way to get there.”

Spencer immediately wrapped her in a hug, pressing kisses over her hair, her forehead, her shocked mouth. “Two babies. We’re having two babies.”

“Twins, Spence,” she breathed. “Twins.”

He replaced her hands with his own, cradling her face and kissing her sweetly, sighing all of his joy and adoration into her mouth. “I love you. So much. The most.” He lowered himself to press his lips to her belly. “All of you.”

She used gentle hands in his hair to tilt his face up, meeting his smile with a watery one of her own. “We love you, too, baby daddy.”

She could see the gears turning as he stood, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “About that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you, um— how difficult do you think it would be to get everyone together this weekend?”

She paused. “You wanna get married this weekend?”

“Yeah, that’s probably too soon, huh?” He huffed out a sigh, then his eyebrows shot up. “Oh— what about next weekend?”

“That’s just as soon!” she laughed. 

He furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not. There's a seven day difference.”

“You’re really in a rush, huh?” she teased. 

“Well. I just— I figure you should really be on my insurance anyway,” he reasoned. “Especially now that it’s— now that it’s twins.”

“Mm, yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” she grinned.

He let out a long breath, and she watched his eyes journey over her face— memorizing every curve and angle, every new wrinkle, every last inch of her. And she knew the reason. 

“I know it’s just a piece of paper,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really change anything, but…” He used gentle fingers to brush her hair back from her face. “I just… really want to be your husband.”

She took her own minute to memorize the way he looked in this moment: her fiancé, the father of her children, the best man she’d ever known, the absolute love of her life. And she knew her own reason. 

“The paper might not change anything,” she agreed. “But— you’ve changed everything.”

He squeezed her hips. “In a good way I hope.”

“The best way.” She brought her hands to his face, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. “The best way.”

He closed the distance between them to kiss her with all the honey and magic and reverence he always did. He broke away to lean his forehead against hers with all the warmth and devotion and love he always did. She sighed, and it was all joy and vulnerability and contentment like it always was. And she knew their reasons. 

She kissed him again, and then murmured against his lips, “You know I’m still gonna refer to you as baby daddy, right?”

The laugh erupted from his chest and wrapped itself around her heart, tying tight and secure— a shield, and a haven, and a refuge— keeping her safe from every terrible thing. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

O no! Love is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 

It is the star to every wandering bark, 

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

———

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