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mariclerc · 5 months

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Dad duties (pt.2) | cl16

Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, single dad Charles, a bunch of kisses and pure fluff... And a somewhat kinda spicy surprise near the end + shy Charles at the end too.

a/n: this is a little too long, but I hope you like it. Let me know if you want another part of this!!

Part 1 Part 3

taglist 🤍 @mehrmonga @barcelonaloverf1life @sillyfreakfanparty

You find yourself waiting on the porch of your house, Charles had told you that he was going to be a little late since he was fixing some things with Ava, tonight is finally the famous date that you both had promised. The last few weeks have probably been the most fantastic of your life, the company of Charles and his little Ava make your days happier and brighter and that made you happy. You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn't realize that Charles was pulling up in front of your house, a smile already on your face.

“Hey y/n! You look incredible, so pretty, oh my...” He says as he gets out of the car, you were wearing a flattering dress, a little more dressed up than usual for your date night, you laugh slightly.

“Hey you handsome! Ready for our fancy dinner?” you say with a smile.

He smiles apologetically. “Uh... About that, there might be a slight change of plans.”

You both walk towards the car and he, like a gentleman, opens the passenger door for you, to which you thank him with a smile. You follow his gaze to the back seat, there, in a bright pink dress with white polka dots, sits Ava she beams at you, clutching a stuffed bunny, she giggles.

Your heart just melts, you weren't expecting Ava, but you can't help but smile even wider. “Hi there little princess! You look beautiful tonight!” You say happily.

Ava beams while Charles sighs apologetically. “Look, I'm so sorry babe. I couldn't find a babysitter on such a short notice and I was hoping maybe we could reschedule the dinner, but...” He was practically babbling, you cut him off.

You reach into the back and scoop Ava into your arms, tickling her belly. She erupts in delighted giggles.

“Charles, it's perfectly fine! Honestly, the more the merrier, don't you think? Besides who could say no to this cute little princess?”

Ava reaches out and tugs on your hair playfully. “Pwincess!” she giggled again and you nodded.

Charles looks surprised and relieved at your words. “You... You really don't mind babe?”

You glance at Charles, his eyes filled with warmth. “I don't mind at all darling! So... Where are we taking our little princess for dinner?” you asked softly while looking at him.

Charles throws his head back and smiled. “There's this great Italian place that has a fantastic kids' menu. Ava loves their pasta.”

You settle Ava back into her car seat, buckling her in. “Sounds perfect, Italian it is! Maybe she'll share some of her pasta with us?”

Charles leans over and gives you a quick kiss, you blush slightly. “Maybe... But you're definitely getting your own plate. This might be a date night with a little one in tow, but I still want to spoil you.” he winks at you.

“Just having you here is spoiling me enough.” you whisper softly. “Now, let's go get our little princess some dinner, I bet she's starving.”

You smile as Charles starts the car, his smile brighter than the restaurant lights ahead. You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you, this might not be exactly the date night you envisioned, but it's already shaping up to be something even better.

***

When you arrive at the restaurant the hostess leads Charles and you to a booth big enough for three with a high chair for Ava. The restaurant is super elegant, with soft music playing in the background.

Charles speaks smiling to Ava. “Alright, little one, what kind of pasta are you feeling tonight? They have farfalle shaped like butterflies, or penne that look like little tubes...”

Ava points excitedly at a picture on the kid's menu. “Bunny!” she giggles.

You and Charles look at the picture, then at each other and burst out laughing. “Looks like it's bunny pasta for the princess, I bet it's delicious!” You say with a smile on your face.

The waiter arrives, a friendly man with a neatly trimmed beard, Charles orders a glass of wine for you and a apple juice box for Ava, he also orders the bunny pasta for Ava, requesting it with a side of steamed vegetables. You order a light pasta dish and Charles gets something heartier. The conversation flows easily, sprinkled with stories about Ava's day and Charles' latest win on the track. You steal a glance at him while he chats whit Ava, noticing how his eyes crinkle when he smiles at his daughter.

“You're such a good dad, you know.” you say whispering.

Charles catches your eye and gives you a warm smile. “Thank you mon ange. Being a good dad is easy when you have a princess like her.” he whispers. (my angel)

While you wait for your food, you take out a small pack of crayons and a coloring book you brought from home. “Hey, Ava, want to color some pictures with me? See, this one has a cute bunny and another animals!”

Ava nods eagerly and starts coloring with delight. You watch her for a moment, then turn to Charles and you smile. “She's so much fun. I can't believe it's only been a few weeks...” you whisper softly.

Charles reaches across the table and takes your hand. “Me neither, you are amazing with her! You're even amazing to me.”

Just then, the waiter arrives with your food and drinks. You turn your attention to Ava, making sure she eats some vegetables before digging into the pasta.

The night continues like this - a delightful mix of conversation, laughter, a little spilled food, and genuine connection. While you might not have had the quiet, romantic dinner you initially planned, you find yourself enjoying this even more. It feels like the start of something special, a family you're slowly becoming a part of.

***

As the plates are cleared and Ava starts to get drowsy, Charles leans back in the booth.

“Looks like our little adventurer is ready for bed. What do you say we call it a night?” He says smiling as he holds Ava in his arms.

You nodded. “Looks like little miss enjoyed her bunny pasta a little too much, don't you think? We might be in for a long night... I can help put her to bed when we get home, I don't mind.” You say with a shy little smile.

Charles smiles, a hint of tiredness in his eyes. “Any help would be appreciated, you're a lifesaver, you know that?” he asked softly and you nod.

He throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

“So, how about we head straight home? Maybe we can watch a movie after Ava's asleep, just the two of us? How does that sound?” He asks you softly, the way his eyes hold yours makes the butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You smile once again. “Sounds like a perfect plan for me... Lead the way, papa.”

You two have a funny little argument about who pays the bill, but in the end he paid like a gentleman, and together you head out of the restaurant. The night air feels cooler now, but your heart is warm, as you walk side-by-side, Charles steals a kiss, quick and sweet, making butterflies explode in your stomach. You know this might be the beginning of something truly special, a messy, wonderful adventure with a charming single dad and his adorable daughter.

The car ride is filled with the soft snores of a sleeping Ava nestled in her car seat. Charles reaches over and squeezes your hand, a silent thank you for your help throughout the evening.

Pulling into his driveway, Charles helps you unbuckle Ava and carefully carries her inside. The house is quiet, bathed in a soft glow from a lamp left on in the living room, the white walls aren't so white anymore due to some colorful scratches on Ava's part, but it gives the place personality. Charles leads the way to Ava's room, a haven of pastel colors and stuffed animals.

“Alright, little one, it's bedtime. Let's get you out of those clothes, okay?” he whispers softly towards Ava.

He lays Ava gently on the changing table. You reach into the diaper bag that he had brought to dinner and pull out a pair of soft, pink pajamas with a fluffy bunny on the front.

You smile softly. “Looks like someone's favorite animal is making another appearance tonight.”

Charles chuckles, taking the pajamas from you. He expertly removes Ava's dress, careful not to wake her. You watch him with a lot of love and affection in your eyes, a comfortable silence settling around you both.

He started talking in a sing-along voice to Ava. “See, bunny pajamas for a sleepy bunny. Time for your warm snuggles, princess.” He slips the pajamas on Ava, who stirs slightly and lets out a contented sigh.

You help him to tuck Ava in. “She's so peaceful when she's asleep... You seem like a natural at this dad thing.”

Charles smiles, a touch of pride in his eyes. “Practice makes perfect, I guess. But having you here makes it a whole lot easier.” He leans in close, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Maybe after she's settled, we can have that movie night... just the two of us?” he whispers.

The air crackles with unspoken desire. You glance at Ava, a small smile playing on your lips. “Let's get her to sleep first, then we'll see. But don't expect a quiet night in. I might have some movie-related cuddles in mind.” you whisper back at him.

A slow grin spreads across Charles' face. He leans in and kisses you softly, the promise of more hanging in the air. Every time he kisses you it's like a dream, he is so sweet and delicate with you that it makes you sigh.

He smiles at you and whispers. “Sounds like a challenge I'm willing to accept.”

With a final goodnight kiss to Ava's forehead, you and Charles tiptoe out of the room, the quiet anticipation of a stolen moment hanging between you. Charles smiles at you, a silent thanks in his eyes. You return the smile, a pleasant tiredness settling over you.

“So... Movie night? Do you have any preferences?” he asks softly.

You shrug playfully and whisper. “Surprise me... Just something that doesn't require too much brainpower, I'm running in fumes after that mega dinner we had.” you let out a little giggle.

Charles chuckles and heads towards the living room and you follow him, collapsing onto the large couch with a contented sigh. He pops a movie into the DVD player, something light and comedic based on the box art.

The movie starts, and you snuggle up on the couch with a fluffy blanket, Charles sits beside you, leaving a comfortable gap initially. As the movie progresses, you find yourself drawn closer... You share a laugh at a funny scene, his arm brushing against yours, you don't shy away, instead leaning in slightly. He seems to mirror your movement, his warmth a comforting presence.

By the halfway point, you're practically cuddling, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear. The movie plays on in the background, but your focus has shifted.

Charles speak with a raspy and low voice. “You know, you're amazing with Ava. I don't know what I would have done tonight without you.”

You snuggle closer, a small smile playing on your lips. “She's a sweetheart! And besides, seeing you be a dad is pretty darn cute.” you whisper shyly.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “It's not always cute, you know? There are sleepless nights and mountains of undone laundry. But I swear, it's the most rewarding thing in the world.” He whispers as he looks at you sweetly.

A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment. Then, Charles takes a deep breath.

“Look, I know this might be crazy, but... it's late, and it's been a long day. Would you maybe consider staying the night? The guest room is all made up, and there's plenty of space on the couch if you'd prefer...” he says a little hesitant and even shy.

He trails off, waiting for your response. You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. His eyes are full of hope, a hint of nervousness lingering in their depths.

You smile, a genuine warmth spreading through you. “Actually Charles... There was something I was thinking too...” You lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Maybe instead of the guest room or the couch, we could cuddle up in your bed and watch the rest of the movie? Movie-related cuddles, remember?” you whisper softly.

A slow grin spreads across Charles' face. He pulls you in for a kiss, deeper and more passionate than before. The movie fades into the background, the only sound your laughter and the promise of a night spent closer than ever before.

***

The movie credits roll, the sound barely registering over the soft snores coming from the baby monitor on the coffee table. You stretch languidly, the warmth of the blanket and Charles' arm wrapped around you making it hard to move.

He smiles sheepishly at you. “Wow, I don't know how we lost track of the movie. So much for brainpower, right?”

You chuckle, your eyes meeting his. There's a spark there, an unspoken invitation. “Maybe the movie wasn't that interesting after all. But hey, at least the company was good.” you smile playfully. “Oh, take this honey!” he says shyly and then walks over to a drawer and pulls out a soft, grey t-shirt. “This is probably a little big, but it's comfy! You're welcome to use any time you want.” he whispers.

You take the shirt, the fabric warm from his touch. It smells faintly of laundry detergent and something uniquely Charles.

“This is perfect, thank you Charlie! I think I can manage in a big, comfy t-shirt.” you giggle and smile.

He smiles back, his eyes holding yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire, the night stretching before you full of possibilities. He reach out to take your hand. “Then come on. Let's get you settled in, and maybe we can find a different kind of movie to watch... one that doesn't require a screen.”

He pulls you gently towards the hallway, his hand warm and strong in yours. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The hallway light casts a warm glow as you follow Charles. His hand remains clasped in yours, a silent invitation. You can practically feel the electricity crackling between you.

Reaching his bedroom door, Charles hesitates for a moment, then turns to you with a shy smile.

“Just a warning, my room might be a little messy, Ava has a habit of leaving her toys everywhere... So an apology if you find a colored build block or a stuffed animal on the floor.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Don't worry, I can handle a little mess, especially if it means more cuddles.” you say shyly.

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound warm and genuine. He pushes the door open, revealing a room that's undeniably lived-in. Clothes are scattered over a chair, a colourful build block and a stuffed bear lies abandoned on the floor. But amidst the slight disorder, there's a sense of warmth, safety and comfort in his bedroom.

He waves an apologetically hand at the mess. “Like I said... It's a little bit messy, but the bed it's made, at least.”

The bed dominates the room, a large king-size covered in a duvet the color of the sea, It looks impossibly inviting. You can't help but smile at the thought of spending the night snuggled up in it with Charles.

You smile. “The bed looks perfect. Thanks for offering the guest room, though. This is much more... spacious.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully while grinning. “Spacious enough for warm cuddles, I hope?”

You blush slightly, but hold his gaze. “We'll see about that, Mr. Leclerc... Now, where's the bathroom? I think I might need to change before those cuddles begin.” you say teasingly.

He points you in the right direction, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Take your time love, I'll be waiting... patiently... Although, no promises on how long that patience will last.” he giggled a little bit.

You wink at him before disappearing into the bathroom, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. The night may not have gone according to plan, but it's turning into something far more special. The prospect of a night spent in Charles' bed cuddling, the promise of stolen kisses and whispered secrets, fills you with a happiness you haven't felt in a long time.

***

The bathroom door clicks shut behind you. You take a moment to splash some cool water on your face, trying to calm the nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Slipping on Charles' oversized t-shirt, you steal a glance in the mirror. It hangs loosely on your frame, the scent of his laundry detergent clinging to the fabric.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom. Charles is sprawled on the bed, the movie barely audible in the background. He glances up when you appear, a slow smile spreading across his face.

He smiles warmly at you. “Looking comfortable chérie. Ready for some more movie... or maybe something else?” (darling)

His eyes hold yours, the question hanging in the air. You walk towards the bed, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Let's see what kind of mood this movie sets first. Maybe it'll inspire some cuddling, don't you think?”

He pats the space beside him on the bed, the duvet invitingly warm. You crawl in next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne filling your senses. He pulls the duvet over both of you, the space between you suddenly feeling too large.

As the movie plays on, you settle into Charles' side, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You lose yourself in the quiet rhythm of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

The movie becomes a distant hum, the plot lines forgotten. You focus instead on the warmth radiating from Charles' body, the way his fingers gently brush against your arm. You steal a glance at him, his eyes already trained on you.

A slow smile spreads across your face. You lean in closer, your lips hovering a breath away from his. He closes the gap, the kiss soft and tender. It's a taste of what could be, a promise of something more.

You pull back, breathless.

“Maybe the movie can wait. How about we focus on some real-life entertainment?”

Charles chuckles, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Sounds like a much better plan. Besides, I doubt this movie has anything on what we can do right here.” he said coquettishly.

He pulls you closer, his kisses becoming more insistent, more passionate. You melt into his touch, every thought of the movie forgotten. The only thing that matters now is the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the promise of a night spent tangled in his arms.

The movie plays on in the background, a silent observer to the unfolding scene. But neither of you cares. You're lost in your own world, a world of stolen glances, whispered secrets, and a growing intimacy that promises something truly special. As the night deepens, the movie fades into a distant memory, replaced by the intoxicating reality of a connection blooming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

You and Charles are caught in a heated embrace, the movie forgotten on the screen. The only sound is your own ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of your hearts. Just as Charles dips his head for another kiss, a faint sound pierces the air.

It's a whimper, barely audible, but unmistakable through the baby monitor nestled on the nightstand. You both freeze, pulled back from the brink of passion by the tiny sound.

Charles reaches over and turns up the volume on the monitor. The whimpers become clearer, accompanied by a soft snuffling sound.

“Sounds like Ava might be waking up...” he frowns slightly.

Disappointment flickers across his face, a mirror of your own feelings. You both know it's time to pull back, the night taking a different turn than anticipated.

You let out a soft sigh. “Maybe we should check on her, poor thing might be having a bad dream.”

Charles nods, a hint of frustration battling with his concern for his daughter. He leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

He smiles apologetically. “Duty calls princess. Maybe we can pick this up where we left off later? After Ava's back to sleep, of course.”

You smile back, a touch of longing lingering in your eyes. “Of course darling, Ava comes first. But don't worry, I'm not going anywhere! Besides, a little mystery only adds to the fun, right?”

Charles lets out a soft laugh, the frustration melting away. He throws back the covers and gets out of bed, heading towards the door.

“You're right. Maybe this little detour will just make the reunion even sweeter. I'll be back soon babe.” he smiles.

He throws you a quick wink before disappearing down the hallway. You watch him go, a mix of disappointment and amusement swirling inside you. The night may not have gone exactly as planned, but the unexpected turn of events only adds to the growing connection you feel with Charles.

Settling back against the pillows, you pick up the remote and turn off the movie. The room falls silent, except for the faint hum of the baby monitor. You close your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. Maybe there's no need to rush things. After all, the best things in life often come when you least expect them.

***

You wait for Charles' return, the silence amplifying the soft hum of the baby monitor. Curiosity pulls you towards it, and you pick it up, placing the receiver near your ear. You hear the familiar sounds of Ava stirring in her sleep, little whimpers turning into soft murmurs.

Then, a gentle voice cuts through the static... It's Charles, his voice low and soothing as he speaks to his daughter.

“Hush little one, don't you cry, The moon is out, the stars are high. Close your eyes and drift away, Dreams of sunshine and flowers at play.” he sings softly through the monitor.

His voice washes over you, warm and comforting. You can picture him sitting on the edge of Ava's crib, rocking her gently as he sings. A pang of tenderness hits you, a glimpse into the protective and loving father Charles is. The whimpers gradually subside, replaced by the soft sounds of contented breathing. Charles speaks again, his voice barely a whisper.

“There you go, my little princess. Sleep tight, Daddy loves you so much.”

A lump forms in your throat. The tenderness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but eavesdrop a little longer, yearning to be a part of this sweet moment.

After a few more minutes of silence, the bedroom door creaks open and Charles peeks in. He sees you with the baby monitor in hand, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“She's sound asleep, seems like my singing skills did the trick after all.” he whispers and smiles at you.

You blush, caught eavesdropping. You put the monitor back on the nightstand. “Guilty as charged... Your singing voice is impressive, Mr. Leclerc. Although, I'm not sure Ava fully appreciates your operatic skills yet.” you whisper softly and smiled at him.

He lets out a playful chuckle, walking towards the bed. “Maybe not... But, hey! At least she's asleep now.” he giggled. “Now... Where were we?” he whispers.

He reaches for you, his hand brushing against yours. You feel a warmth spread through you, the disappointment from before melting away.

“I believe we were about to explore some real-life entertainment. But this time, maybe with a little less noise... After all, we don't want to wake the princess again, do we?” you smile playfully.

Charles' smile widens, his eyes flickering with desire. He pulls you back into his arms, the promise of a stolen moment hanging heavy in the air.

The night may have taken a detour, but with Ava safely asleep and the connection between you growing stronger, it seems like a new chapter is about to begin. The adventure may be messy, filled with unexpected turns, but the prospect of exploring it with Charles fills you with a mix of excitement and anticipation. As you settle back into his embrace, you can't help but wonder where this unexpected journey will lead you both.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, intimate light on the scene as Charles pulls you back into his embrace. His touch is gentle yet insistent, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and desire.

He smiles and whispers again. “Absolutely not. Princess Ava deserves her beauty sleep... Besides, there are plenty of ways to have fun that don't involve waking the entire house.” He trails a finger down your arm, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You lean into his touch, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“Oh, really? Do tell, Mr. Leclerc. Enlighten me on these... quieter forms of entertainment you have in mind.” you smile shyly while blushing.

Charles leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice is a low murmur, sending a delicious warmth through you.

“How about we explore each other, one slow touch at a time? See where the night takes us, without waking a single soul.” he whispers huskily.

His words ignite a spark within you, a thrilling mix of nervousness and excitement. You nod, your voice barely a whisper. “Sounds like a plan. But remember, we don't want to get too carried away. After all, Ava's room is just down the hall.”

A slow smile spreads across Charles' face. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering.

He smiles shyly while blushing. “Don't worry bébé, I know how to control myself... to a certain extent. But trust me, this is going to be better than any movie we could watch... I promise.”

He dips his head for a kiss, this one slow and lingering. His lips move against yours, a delicious exploration that leaves you breathless. His hand trails down your back, sending shivers down your spine.

As the kiss deepens, you become acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The t-shirt you borrowed from him smells faintly of laundry detergent and something uniquely Charles, a scent that intoxicates you.

With a soft sigh, you pull away slightly, your heart pounding in your chest.

You say breathlessly. “Maybe we should start by turning off the light. A little darkness can add to the mystery, right amour?”

Charles lets out a low chuckle, the sound rich and warm. He reaches over and flicks off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a comfortable darkness. The only light comes from the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window.

In the darkness, you feel Charles' hand find yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. It's a small gesture, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you.

He leans and whispers in your ear. “The night is young, and the possibilities are endless... Let's see where this adventure takes us.”

With that, he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your neck. You know this is a path untrodden, a journey into uncharted territory. But with Charles by your side, the uncertainty is exhilarating. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, ready to explore the night and the deepening connection that binds you together.

***

The kiss breaks, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You rest your forehead against Charles' chest, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

A moment of comfortable silence stretches between you. Then, Charles clears his throat, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.

“Listen babe, I just wanted to apologize. Maybe I came on a little strong there. It's just... well, it's been a while since I've had anyone in my bedroom, you know, other than Ava when she needs a middle-of-the-night cuddle or she has a fuss.” he mumble slightly.

He sounds embarrassed, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to his earlier confidence. You reach up and cup his cheek, a sympathetic smile playing on your lips. “Hey, it's okay... I understand, It's been a while for me too. Besides, I don't blame you for getting a little carried away after that movie... or maybe it was the cuddles on the couch... Either way, there's no pressure. We can take things slow if that's what you want!” you smile again. “But honestly, your straightforwardness is kind of refreshing... No games, just genuine interest. And that's something I can appreciate.” you giggle softly.

A flicker of relief washes over Charles' face, followed by a slow smile.

“Really? You're not offended? Because honestly, the last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable.” he sighs softly. “Slow sounds good, really good. But honestly, the thought of having you here all night, even if it's just for cuddles, is pretty darn amazing. It's been a long time since this place felt... well, alive.”

His words tug at your heartstrings. You understand the loneliness that comes with being a single parent, the longing for adult connection that can easily get overshadowed by the daily responsibilities.

You smile reassuringly. “Then consider yourself cuddled! Besides, I wouldn't want to leave you to face Ava's next potential night terror alone. Maybe I can even offer some expert advice on soothing a restless toddler. After all, I have a few nieces and nephews who keep me on my toes.”

Charles lets out a laugh, the sound warm and genuine. “Expert advice is always welcome, especially if it comes with a side of cuddles. Come here darling, just... Closer.”

He pulls you back into his arms, this time the embrace filled with a newfound tenderness. You rest your head on his shoulder, the sound of his heartbeat a comforting rhythm in the darkness.

The night may not have unfolded exactly as you planned, but as you settle into the warmth of Charles' embrace, you realize something unexpected... Sometimes, the best adventures are the ones that take you by surprise.

The night stretches before you, full of possibilities. There may not be any more passionate encounters, but the promise of a slow burn, a connection built on shared experiences and genuine connection, is far more enticing. You close your eyes, a contented sigh escaping your lips. You may not have gotten the fiery night you initially craved, but the prospect of a slow, sweet exploration with a charming single dad and his adorable daughter is a much more promising prospect.

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year

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birthday girl | marauders x reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Ravenclaw Reader Word Count: 3.8 k Warnings: none Prompt: It's your birthday but you're sick. The boys are just total darlings and care for you no matter the risks, making sure you have a super happy speacial day regardless. Comfort Fic // Birthday fic Written for @kquil

Soooo… thanks to @kquil's 1k follower celebration we discovered our birthdays are super close together, and it made me so excited I had to ask when her birthday was exactly and then I knew and then I had this idea in my head.

And gosh, Kquil, I absolutely love the way you write love, so I wanted to make a little something for you. Hope you’re having a fantastic day sweetie, even if you’re sick with that goddamned awful virus, it feels like shit, I know it does, so I thought, perhaps a little comfort fic could make you feel better.

This is just a little gift I wanted to make, a token of appreciation for you always sharing your lovely fluffy fics (that honestly make my days brighter) with us, hope you enjoy <3

You woke up with a headache, sighting as you shut your eyes close again, the brightness coming from the large castle windows causing you to wince. You had felt the signs, the sore throat, the mild headaches and stomach pain, you were well aware you were getting sick but you honestly hoped your body would hold at least after your special day to break down.

Hopes be damned, it was your birthday and you felt like shit, actually, no, you felt like you had been run over by a truck, which was slightly worse. You took your wand out and cast a spell to muffle the sounds of the already waking castle, especially the sound of your roommates, whom you adored but were too loud for your sick mind to tolerate. You grabbed your pillow and placed it over your head, groaning from how uncomfortable and sore you felt, you’d hoped the pillow would at least muffle the sound a little, no such luck, since just minutes after Mal was popping her head through your curtains and looking at you with brows furrowed in concern.

“You all right luv?”

You shook your head in response finally lowering down the pillow from your face, “feel like shit,” you admitted. “Remember I mentioned my throat was feeling funny?” Mal nodded “Well, it looks like it finally decided to give in.” And it really did, it felt like sandpaper every time you said a word.

“Hold up a sec,” she said and pulled her head out “Hey Sage, do you still have those lemon caught drops we made in potions last month?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Sweet!” she said, you heard her step away and the rest of the conversation was toned out by your charm, after less than a minute later, Mal popped her head back in, small cystal jar in her hands “There you go love,” she said with a smile “Happy Birthday!”

You chuckled and took the jar from her hands, cranking it open and placing one of the yellow candies in your mouth “Thanks!” you said with a smile.

From the other side, Sage popped her head “Happy birthday sweetheart,” she said with a smile.

You smiled at the two girls, shaking your head as you continued to suck on the candy, it was nice to know you had them in your life. You then heard the door creak open and another girl poped her head next to Mal “Hey luv, Happy Birthday!” she said, and then waved her hand, a tower of pancakes with a candle on top appeared on the side of your bed, you sat up, smiling wildly, and completly ignoring the headache and soreness.

“This is– Thank you girls…” you said, looking at them with a grateful smile, making room for them to sit on the bed.

“Only the best for our best girl,” Eryn said with a wink as she sat on the edge.

“She’s feelin’ sick thought,” Sage added, with a small pout.

“The cough drops–“

“–we’ve already given them to her,” interrupted Mal “How’s the throat?”

“Much better,” you said honestly, the caught drops really were doing their magic “The headache and the soreness is still there, unfortunately.”

Sage pouted now, looking at you with a bit of a frown as you munched on your pancakes “Eating will make you feel better. You can skip breakfast if you want.”

“Oh no, she can’t,” Eryn said shaking her head. “There’s a certain someone waiting for her just outside. And he looked just about to pick up a fight with the eagle for not letting him in.”

You opened your eyes in shock “Don’t tell me it’s…”

“Yup,” Eryn said with a smile “he might bring the door down if you don’t actually get out.”

You shook your head in disbelief but nodded “I better hurry then.”

“You sure luv?” Sage asked “We can tell him to screw off and come back when you’re feeling better.”

You shook your head “I’ll just pass by Pomfrey before class or something,” you said with a smile and the three girls nodded, they were already wearing their uniforms, blue ties shining over their crisp white shirt.

“You done?” Mal asked, pointing at your plate, you nodded and she vanished it right after. You looked at her surprised “I’ve been practicing evanesco lately.”

You nodded and made an O in between your thumb and finger to indicate it’d been a fantastic casting. She nodded excitedly in response and the three girls went back to their respective beds. You stood from your bed, taking a long deep breath as you felt the pain and soreness after moving just a little, and started to slowly put your uniform on.

You struggled so much while attempting to tie the tie with your scrambled mind that you decided to leave it as is, and deal with it later, genuinely worried one of the boys would actually break the door down if you took too long. You grabbed your bag and lousily threw your books and some parchment inside before walking out of your room and towards the entrance of the common room.

The door opened easily and the first thing you spotted was his bright red converses, tapping against the stone floor impatiently. He ran straight to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, which you enjoyed as much as it made you squirm, the pain in your muscles being very present. He started to slather soft kisses over your face when you gently pushed him off you. He looked at you with concern, trying to search for what was going on in your eyes.

“I’m sick,” you told him, still trying to move away from his grasp.

“Don’t care,” he said pulling you into a hug again. You shook your head but hid your face on his chest either way

“You’re gonna catch my cold.”

“Will be worth it as long as I can hug my birthday girl,” he said, still hugging you “And kiss her,” he whispered sneakily.

“James!” you whined, It was already hard enough to resist his charm without him actively trying to charm you.

“What’s the plan today?”

“Class, probably,” you said with a shrug and went back to look at your tie, attempting to tie it by yourself, only to groan and let it hang over your neck either way.

James frowned “You have a headache, don’t you?” You nodded as you leaned into his chest, not bothering to answer.

“And my whole body aches, I’m more sore than that one time we fell off the broom.”

James winced, remembering how bad that time had been “Moony should have something to help, let’s go!” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you allowed him to pull you along.

“Gryffindor common rooms,” he said as he sneaked the two of you behind a statue.

“Your portrait’s not gonna let me in.”

James stopped and turned to you, taking your tie in between his hands and gently pulling it off your shoulders, it slid right off easily. He placed it in his pocket and took off his own, placing it over your head and accommodating the neck of your shirt with ease.

“The tie wasn’t the only…” you started, but he was already taking off his vest and putting it over your head. “But what about the…” With a swish of his wand, your robes turned wine red instead of blue. You started at the boy in disbelief “Could’ve just charmed my entire uniform instead…”

He shrugged “Maybe, but you look too cute in my clothes, there was no chance I passed the opportunity up.” You smiled and shook your head at his antics, he placed his hand over yours again and started dragging the two of you through the passageways until you were just outside of his common room. You stood beside him with an awkward smile as he told the lady the password. You swore she threw you a look, but instead of saying anything she just smiled, as if she knew something that you didn’t, and allowed the two of you to come inside.

You noticed some stares on James, but no one dared to say a thing as he pulled you along the stairs and towards his room, when he opened the door you spotted your two other boyfriends inside, Sirius was buttoning up his shirt and Remus was lacing up his boots.

“Happy birthday dove,” he said when he spotted you, finishing the bow he was working on and walking towards you in three long strides, he placed a hand on the top of your head, letting it gently fall down as he brought your forehead to his lips “what brings you here?”

“James,” you joked, you saw Sirius finish up his buttoning and he ran up to you, planting a kiss right on your lips, but you pushed him off with a worried expression and attempted to wipe his face with the sleeve of your hand.

“What’s with her?” Sirius asked when he finally managed to get your arm off his face.

“Says she’s sick,” responded James.

“I AM sick!” you said “I had a cough drop in the morning, my head is dizzy and everything hurts. That’s why James brought me here.”

“I should have something to lift your spirits,” Remus said thoughtfully as he moved towards his desk and started rummaging through his medicine cabinet.

Sirius pouted “Does that mean you won’t kiss me today?”

“Well, I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“But it’s your birthday,” he argued “You should get all the kisses in the world.”

“Not at the expense of my boyfriends getting sick.”

Remus came over again, handing you a small potion “Should help with the pain and headache,” he said as he handed it over to you.

You took it in one go, “How long will it take for it to… oh.”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded with a smile “Pomfrey gave me the recipe for that time of the month, it’s great innit?”

You nodded in response and Sirius inched closer “Does that mean I can kiss you now.”

“Not because I don’t feel sick does it mean I’m not,” you scolded.

“What if we take something to stop us from getting your cold?”

“Is there such a potion?” James asked.

“‘Course there is, isn’t there Moony?” Sirius said looking straight at the boy in question, who quickly deciphered Sirius’ intentions and nodded “Yeah, yeah… I’ve got some in my closet.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boys, you knew of no such potion, but your head was a bit too cloudy to argue, and Remus was better at potions than you were anyway so you decided to trust them in this one.

Remus grabbed a small potion and they divided it between the three. Sirius smiled and brought you close to his face “Wicked! Now do I get to slather you with kisses?”

You looked at the boy, his curls falling beautifully at the side of his head, there was a slight blush on your cheeks as you nodded, but you weren’t quite sure if the blush was because of Sirius’ beautiful face, his adoring eyes, or because you were getting a fever, or perhaps all three.

He leaned in and placed a kiss on your eye “Happy birthday love,” he said and pressed a kiss on your other eye “Happy birthday,” he said and then pressed another kiss, this time on your cheek “Happy birthday...”

And he would’ve gone on, but James stopped him, removing the boy from your face, which earned him a glare “All right, that’s enough, you’re hogging her!”

“We should get to class,” you said as you grabbed Remus’ wrist and brought it closer to your face to check the time on his watch. It was something you did rather often, and Remus enjoyed it a lot more than he let on. There was nothing like the soft touch of your hands over his wrist, over anywhere on his body, if he was honest.

“Should we?” asked James as he placed a hand on your forehead “I don’t know sweetheart, it seems to me like you’re a bit too sick for class.”

You looked at him in disbelief “Too sick for class but not too sick to kiss you?”

“Hey I don’t make the rules,” he said raising his hand with a diverted smile “What do you think Pads? Does she look well enough for class?”

The boy in question placed a hand on your cheek, and looked at you attentively “Now that you mention it Prongs,” he said slowly “Our lovely Kquill does look a bit pale, doesn’t she?”

You took his hand off your face and turned to Remus, hoping he’d be the only sensible person left “Come on Rem, you know we have to go to class don’t you?”

He tilted his head “How many classes have you missed this year Sweetheart?”

“I…uh-“

“–She hasn’t missed any,” James said, very sure of his answer.

“I have.”

“Really? Which one?”

“I… I missed History of Magic last month.”

“And what else?” asked Sirius, stepping closer now.

You looked to the side “No-nothing else.”

“Then, my love,” Remus started “I think it’s best if you stay and rest. You said it yourself, just because you don’t feel sick anymore it doesn’t mean you’re not.”

James smiled and placed his hand over your shoulders “There we go sweets, Doctor Moony’s orders. You’re stayin’”

“What, you mean here?”

Sirius nodded, and with a wave of his wand both his bed and Remus were next to each other, making a huge one, another wave and there was soft rock playing in the background.

You raised your eyebrows “There we go luv, we can chill and listen to some of your favourite tunes,” he said with a smile “Your mixtape’s on.”

You still looked at the boy in disbelief, and then you heard a knock on their window. James frowned but approached it either way, an owl was waiting there, with a letter on its beak. James grabbed it and took a treat out of his pocket to feed the owl who hooted merrily before leaving, “It’s for you,” he said, walking towards you again.

“For me?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, go ahead, sit on the bed, you can read there more comfortably,” he added and held the letter between his hands as you tried to reach for it “Sit on the bed, I’ll bring it over,” he insisted.

You rolled your eyes and did as told “May I have my letter now?”

James nodded and handed it over, you looked at it and a smile grew on your face as you read the envelope “Oh! It’s from my brother!” you said as you unfolded it and started reading its contents. He was wishing you a very happy birthday, telling you how much he loved you but not to let it go to your head, and he also told you to kick Sirius in the balls if he kept trying funny things.

“What’s with the hate?” the boy said as he read the letter from over your head. You laughed, your brother had been the one to leave you at the station that summer, and he had seen Sirius approach and hug you from behind. But then he’d also seen the boy dig his head into your neck and give you a whiff, long story short, he thought Sirius was weird and that you should stay away from him. Of course, he had no clue Sirius was an animagus, and a dog no less.

You shrugged “He’s crazy let him be.”

“I just hope he doesn’t actually kick me on the balls next time we meet.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Puppy,” you told him as you ruffled his hair, he let his entire head fall over your lap then, looking at you contently. What a twat, you thought looking straight into his eyes and charming smile as you continued playing with his hair. Your brother had also left a couple of galleons on the letter, for you to buy yourself something next time you went to Hogmeade. Which is why you stopped playing with Sirius’ hair and left the letter on the table, the boy complaining just seconds afterwards.

James and Remus joined the two on the bed eventually and chilled for a while, Remus took out a book and you asked him to read out loud for you to listen, and he did, he was reading Peter Pan, and the story put you in a surprisingly good mood, even if you were in that place between sleep an awake as his soft and yet deep voice gently soothed you to sleep.

When you woke up the lights were off, you heard a couple of whispers coming from the door and you felt Sirius shift, you wondered how you’d ended up leaning on his chest but then you heard Remus whisper a spell and suddenly a bunch of candles had turned on and he and James were approaching you with the cake on his hands. You smiled, at their silly antics, the three of them started singing Happy Birthday.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear–“ they started. But the three of them said their own pet names to you which is why it turned into a completely uneven choir of “dove”, “Love of my life” and “Kquil”. Which obviously had you giggling.

“Come on make a wish,” James said once the cake was close enough.

You stared at him, taking a deep breath and leaning in to blow the candles, closing your eyes as you made your wish, more of this, you thought, more of them.

“Can we turn on the lights?”

James shook his head “We certainly can’t.”

“But I want to see the cake!” you said, “Where did you get it?”

“James made it sweetheart,” Sirius informed “That’s why he doesn’t want you to see it.”

You smiled at that and fetched your wand from the bed, using it to turn the light on and look at the cake, you smiled, they had used your favourite colour for the cover, and it was lopsided and uneven, with a “Happy Birthday Kquil” written with white on top. That was definitely Sirius’ handwriting, you could tell since it was the neatest part of the cake. You wonder how he could write it if you had been laying on his chest, but perhaps it was one of those mysteries you would never decipher.

“I love it,” you said honestly, as you dipped your finger in the soft buttercream and threw it in your mouth “Did you put flavouring on it?”

James smiled and nodded “It was Remus’s idea, to use extract of your favourite fruit.”

You smiled at the three boys, “Now give it a bite!” Sirius said, still from behind.

“What?” you asked in disbelief “Aren’t er gonna cut it?”

“Nah, it’s just for us,” James said “We brought spoons and we’ll eat it straight from the plate.

“That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s economic,” said Remus “less dishwashing.”

You gasped “You don’t do the dishwashing, Remus! The elves do.”

He shrugged “Yeah, less work for them, isn’t that better?”

You scoffed but smiled, “Fine then, with spoons it is.”

“But you still have to bite,” James insisted.

“What for?” You asked him.

“Cause it’s your birthday,” Sirius responded, “go ahead, give it a bite.”

You rolled your eyes but finally leaned into the cake, close enough to give it a small bite, and then you felt a hand push your head into the cake, you sprang back out with a gasp completely surprised and feeling a little betrayed by the boys.

“What the hell was that?”

“A tradition we read about in an old book,” James said with a shrug “They say is for good luck.”

“Good luck my ass,” you said as you started to wipe the buttercream with your hands, until you an idea popped into your head, with your hands filled with the creamy thing and them looking at you diverted and completely unassuming, you extended your hands towards both Sirius and James’ faces, successfully slathering with the meringue.

“How dare you?” James gasped with an amused expression.

“I’m just sharing the luck,” you said with a shrug and a small, innocent-looking smile.

Sirius was cleaning his face and hair, who’d also been the victim of the buttercream slathering, “Why is it that only me and James that got this mistreatment?”

You shrugged “Something tells me it was your idea,” you said as you shrugged and grabbed some of the cream from your face and dipped it in your mouth. Remus took his wand, and with a short spell vanished all the cream from your faces.

“Can we eat now?” he asked with a smile, handing everyone their own spoon. The cake might have been a little lacking on the decoration part, but the taste was so on point you asked James three times if he really had baked it himself.

“He did! I saw him!” Sirius said, “He was carefully measuring the ingredients and all.”

Maybe it’s the potioneer in him, you thought as you continued enjoying the cake, the rest of the night went on in fits of laughter and singing along to your favourite song, talking with the boys and in general just passing the time with them. It was absolutely lovely, even your sick birthday had been one of your best birthdays.

Later that week you figured the boys had lied to you and that the “contagion prevention” potion didn’t actually exist. You smacked them playfully but took soup up to their room several times. You still had James’ tie, and the lady from the portrait seemed to always be willing to let you in.

“Go take care of your boys,” she told you one time with the same enigmatic smile as the one on your birthday.

A/N: Hope you like this little thing sweetheart, and I hope it makes you feel better, even if it’s just a lil wee bit. It sucks to be sick on your birthday, but I’m sure you’ll be back up in no time, enjoying time with friends and loved ones, lysm.

PS. Sorry is there are any spelling mistakes, I really wanted to get this out and ready for you to read and I couldn’t spell check like usually…

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whispering-ways · 5 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡ i like you (too much) - part 1 ♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ summary: you just joined a new high school and you're hoping to make a bunch of new friends. unfortunately, you're paired up with katsuki and he seems to despise you. nevertheless, you're determined to make it work. little do you know that you're first interaction would lead to a wonderful friendship and possibly even more.

♡ pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader

♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :) but the next couple of parts may or may not have some smut ;)

♡ notes: hi besties! I'm back finally with another fanfic after months. I'm so sorry for my hiatus, but I've been super busy with college. I'm graduating in literally in 5 days which is so exciting (neurosci and psychology BS) and also been working on a patent and been doing patient trials in the neurosci lab I volunteer at and been applying for grad programs, so its been a lot. but I'm back with a new (long) Katsuki fic now that things have finally settled! Really this was a story with my OCs, Drew and Kressie (names still yet to be confirmed but that's what I've got for now) but I thought this would still work with Bakugo. Let me know if y'all want me to post the OC version too :) hope you guys like it!

As you sit in the principal’s office with your parents, you start to drown out the principal’s monotonous voice. All you cared about in the moment was how you would fit in. Middle school had been terrible; a journey chocked full of bullies and spending lunches alone. So when your parents told you that the 3 of you were moving to a new state for your dad’s fancy new job, you thought this was your chance to wipe the slate clean. Start afresh and make some friends this time around. You’d been excited for weeks, but now sitting here about to start your first day, you felt your stomach churn with anxiety.

The principal calling your name brought you back to reality. “So Y/N are you ready to start your first day? I know it’ll be halfway through your periods, but still your first day if you think about it!”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, picking up your backpack.

“I’ll take you to your new classroom,” said the principal, standing up and opening the door for you, gesturing you to follow him. After saying goodbye to your parents, you head outside the office with a big sigh, readying yourself. It felt like forever before you reached your classroom. Your principal knocked on the door and stuck his head inside. You heard him say something to the teacher inside, but couldn’t quite make out what. She came out a couple moments afterward and the principal left you in her hands. A short introduction later, she brought you inside to the front of the class.

“Hey everyone, I’m sorry to interrupt you all in the middle of quiet work time, but we’ve got a new student. This is (Y/N) and she’ll be in our class from now on,” she said with a big smile on her face; it was almost too cheery. “I’m hoping since you only came in a week late, it won’t be too hard to catch up with the class.” She scanned around the classroom before continuing, “Looks like we’ll have to place you in the back with Katsuki. We share one big desk between students, so I hope that’s okay with you.” You nod and the teacher turns towards her desk, reaching down to grab a packet. “Here’s what we’re working on right now; answer as best as you can and don’t worry about getting questions wrong. You’ll be sitting right over there,” pointing to the back.

You look toward where she gestured to find a guy in a black hoodie, his eyes covered by his hood and lip curled in disdain. “Fantastic,” you thought, taking the packet from your teacher’s hand. “It’d be my luck to be put right next to someone that looks like they’d kill.” You plop down in your seat and look towards your new deskmate, smiling at him as an olive branch. Maybe he was super nice and just didn’t know how to show it.

He looked at you up and down, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as if he was wondering why you’d even dare to look over. With a sigh, you turn back around and start to work on your packet. You wouldn’t consider yourself super smart, but definitely above average. But ‘above average’ wasn’t going to cut it for this packet. You chose to take Calculus to challenge you and to look better on college applications, but looking at the work in front of you, you regretted your decision. This stuff was just way too complicated, but you were determined to figure it out.

You look over at Katsuki to see whether he’s struggling too for some sort of comfort. To your disappointment, you see him flying through the work, his head practically buried in the packet. You tried again to work through the first problem. “Find the derivative of the following function...what even is a derivative?” you thought to yourself. You pulled out your phone, hoping to try and find some sort of video to explain what was going on when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around to find your teacher smiling at you once again. “Hey (Y/N), I hope the packet is going good, but in this classroom we don’t use phones to search up answers. If you’re having trouble, why don’t you ask your deskmate to help you out? I’m sure Katsuki would love to help you out!”

You slipped your phone back into your pocket, giving your teacher a tight-lipped smile in return. “Out of all people, why did I get paired with him,” you pleaded internally. After a few moments, you give up and decide to ask Katsuki for help. “Hey, uh... would you mind helping me out with this question please?” No response. You cleared your throat, hoping to draw attention to your request. Nothing, nada, zilch. It’s then that you noticed he had some earbuds in. “Maybe he really just couldn’t hear me,” you thought. A few moments of contemplation later lead you to tapping his shoulder, hoping to finally get his attention.

He whipped his head around, giving you the chance to get a good look at his face. The first thing you noticed were his eyes. His eyes were red, probably because of contacts, and were coupled with dark circles; it looked like he hadn’t had sleep in weeks. You were finally able to see his hair peeking out from under his hood which had been messily bleached blonde with brown roots growing out. His lips were still in a snarl. “What do you want?” he asked, spitting out each word with anger. “Don’t you know when people are trying to ignore you?”

A hit and a miss. There was no doubting it now; he definitely hated you. You hadn’t even been in the classroom for 20 minutes and your high school dreams of making friends were already coming crashing down. You were just about to reply when he snapped back at you “What? Just going to stare at me forever or something?”

See, you were nice, but not nice enough to let that sort of behavior go by without saying anything. “What the fuck is your problem dude? I just wanted to ask you about derivatives. Damn, a bitch can’t even be curious about math anymore,” you retorted. You were hoping to put him in his place a little, but instead, you heard him chuckle.

“Ok fine, I’ll help you out. I’ll admit, that was a little funny. But this doesn’t mean we’re all buddy buddy, okay? I just want you off my back.”

“Sure whatever gets me done with this packet,” you said, flipping through the pages of the problems till you found the one you were looking for. You pointed to the derivative question and said “Just explain this one to me and I’ll be out of your hair. I just don’t really know how to get started with it.”

With an annoyed sigh, Katsuki gets started on explaining it to you. “Okay so basically all you’ve got to do is just differentiate all 3 parts and then add it. Was that too hard for you to understand or something or did you finally get it?”

You didn’t want to say it, but you didn’t get it. What was differentiating? Subtracting? You had no clue. But you couldn’t admit that, not when he was acting so rude; you had way too much pride for that sort of confession. “Let’s say I didn’t get it. I totally did, but if I didn’t, would you be able to explain it more in depth?” you ask him, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on your lie.

Katsuki definitely picked it up. He wasn’t stupid. But he was dreading having to talk to you more. He wasn’t trying to make friends or talk to people and be all chit-chatty; all he wanted was to be left alone, but unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be picking up on that any time soon. He grabbed your sheet and put it right between you two. If you wanted a in-depth explanation, you were going to get one. Bit by bit, he explained every single step of the problem, dragging out each individual part unnecessarily. That’d teach you to bother him again.

What he did not expect was the beaming smile you gave him in return. “Thank you so much! That actually helped a ton dude! See I knew you could be nice,” you say as you bring the packet back to your side to continue working on the next couple of problems.

Your response threw him for a loop. Sure, Katsuki was confused over how he could seem nice, but what really had him was your smile. He could’ve sworn it was the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. Slightly crooked, but still shined like the sun. He turned around, pulling his hood down to cover the slight blush that had appeared on his face. He hated the feeling he had his stomach now and it was all your fault. He knew it was a bad idea to help you.

He dove into his work, trying not to focus on you. It felt like decades before the bell rang and people started packing up to move to their last period. Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki saw you whip out a folded piece of paper, which opened up to reveal your schedule. He heard you sigh as he was packing up and he already knew what was coming. As soon as he came back up from zipping his backpack, he was met with your eyes looking at him and he knew you were about to bother him again.

“Uh... so I’ve got my next period in room 2301, but I have no idea how to get there. I think its English Lit with Ms. Carlisle, but like we only have 10 minutes to get there and I don’t want to get lost. Do you mind just giving me some quick directions?” you ask.

He wanted to say no and tell you to get lost. But it seemed like his mouth betrayed him when he heard himself saying “Yeah ok, I”ll take you there.”

“Oh! I mean you don’t have to really take me to the room, but I appreciate it a lot!” you reply cheerily with another one of your smiles.

“Do her cheeks never hurt from all that smiling?” Katsuki thought to himself. “It’s whatever, I’m in the same class too so I don’t give a shit.” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over one shoulder.

He starts walking away and you take that as a sign to start walking or be left alone in the classroom. With a wave to your teacher, you speed up to catch up to him. It was a bit awkward walking beside him but not talking. You’d initiate some sort of conversation, but it looked like he was ready to bite your head off and you already felt like you were pushing it.

Thankfully, Katsuki ended the awkward silence between you two, “So.... like, where did you move from?”

“From Florida, but not like city Florida, think like retirement home type of Florida. North Florida specifically.” you rambled, trying to fill up the silence between you for a bit longer.

“Cool, so you’ve like seen gators and shit then?” he said, looking down towards you. It was then that he took notice of the height difference between the two of you. He wasn’t super tall by any means, but compared to you he felt like a giant.

“I mean I’ve seen a couple snakes, gators... and a few lizards too! Nothing too scary though!” you say with a smile. He nodded in response and a silence settled over you two again. You started to rack your brain for something to say to keep the conversation going, when you suddenly felt a yank on your backpack.

“Don’t just fucking walk off, we’re here, English Lit,” Katsuki says, pulling you back to the front of the door after you’d walked right past it.

“Oh! Thank you” you reply, holding the door open. “After you.”

Katsuki felt weird walking into class and it had nothing to do with the quiz the class had to do today. He walked over to his usual desk and felt you follow behind before sitting down right next to him. You put your bag down in your seat and walked over to the teacher, probably to go introduce yourself. It was obvious to Katsuki that he wasn’t getting rid of you or the weird feeling you gave him every time you smiled anytime soon.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sweetest laugh he had ever heard. He turned towards the source of the sound and he wasn’t surprised to see it came from you. It seemed like everything you did added to that weird feeling he felt in his stomach. He hated it. You sat back down next to him, syllabus in hand along with a couple of other forms for you to fill out.

Class seemed to drag on forever for Katsuki. It took everything in him to focus on what the teacher was saying rather than how your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and how you chewed your pencil from time to time and how you drew tiny little flowers and hearts on your notes whenever you got bored. The bell finally rang, releasing Katsuki from what seemed to be his own personal hell. He got up wordlessly to walk towards his car, ready to leave and go home. He made it a couple of paces outside of class before he felt a small tap on his arm.

He turned around to see you looking up at him with big eyes. “Hey.. uhh.. Could I maybe get your number? We have to finish that packet by tomorrow’s class and I know there’s a good chance I could be confused again, so I was hoping to maybe get your help again?” you ask.

How could he refuse those eyes? With a sigh, he held his phone out to you. You looked up at him quizzically. “Do I need to explain everything to you? Put your number in already. I’ll text you back so you can have mine” he snapped.

You took his phone and typed in your number, saving your contact while you were at it. “There you go, all saved and everything,” you say. You couldn’t even fully finish your sentence before Katsuki snatched his phone out of your hands.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Katsuki, but I’ve got to head to the buses soon. I think my bus is leaving in like literally 10 minutes. It was nice meeting you though and hope to see you tomorrow,” you say, running off to catch the bus before you were left without a ride.

“Nice to meet you too, I guess,” he whispered to himself. He hoped you didn’t hear it. He walked to his car, throwing his bag into the backseat and putting his head on the steering wheel. “What’s going on with me? Why is everything so weird all of a sudden?” he thought. He took his phone out from his hoodie, looking for your contact and, more importantly, to put a name to your face.

It wasn’t hard to find since it was the only contact that stuck out like a sore thumb. “Y/N..” he said, reading out your name. He noticed a small smiley face beside your name, a sweet detail that caused an unconscious smile to cross his lips. It didn’t take him long to notice and he immediately shook his head trying to drive his smile away. He put his head back on the wheel with a thud, letting out a frustrated groan. That weird and uneasy feeling in his stomach had come back again and he had a feeling it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

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astroboots · 1 year

Text

Every You Every Me #8

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You embark upon 'a Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Word count: 6,600

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Ten days have passed since your home was blown to a million pieces.

Ten days since you found out that there are multiple universes.

Ten days since you learned that your universe—the world as you know it—has less than three months left before it implodes unless you can somehow find a way to save it… and yourself.

Despite the fantastical nature of those events, you find yourself returning back to your everyday life, just as mundane and ordinary as ever, cosmic murder attempts notwithstanding.

The helicopter crash was featured across the front page of The Times by morning, and apparently no one was hurt. The pilot had somehow been flung from the helicopter into a nearby window and miraculously survived without even a scratch. The only real casualty was your every worldly possession.

After a personal calamity of that scale, you’d hoped you might be offered an extended leave from work. Unfortunately, corporate America stops for no tragedy.

The only thing you're offered is a very sympathetic email the day after with a gift voucher for Dominos attached. Then Sally from HR had let you know that, given the severity of your situation, the company was generously granting you three whole personal days to sort out your affairs. After that you were requested to return to the office—the second quarter of the financial year was beginning soon after all.

And so you find yourself back at work.

Back to 8+ hours a day spent sitting in your rickety office chair, killing your eyesight in front of your computer screen as you pore over excel sheets. Back to the same old boring one-on-one meetings with your boss, who keeps harping on about Key Performance Indicators, as if they mean anything. You don’t understand what the point is. No matter how key your performance is, it never seems to be enough to net you a raise.

“Our total revenue increased by 15% compared to last year, which is a significant achievement considering the challenges in the market, but I know we can do better if we just–”

You stifle a yawn, as you readjust yourself in your chair. It’s Monday morning, and you find yourself in one of the stale meeting rooms, with staler treats that you’re not even allowed to have because they are for external clients only. Your boss is right next to you, droning on and on about how she wants to see better results in the next fiscal quarter. All the while you’re trying to fight the losing odds of keeping your eyes open and the temptation of gravity that wants your head to lay down on the conference table for an impromptu nap.

“We managed to improve our profit margin by 3% by reducing overhead costs, but we need to focus on further optimizing our operations in order to–”

Out of nowhere, the sound of her shrill nasal voice stops, and for a second you think that perhaps, sweet mercies of mercies, the meeting is finally over. But instead she points out the window and says the last thing you expect.

“Hey, isn’t that Spiderman?”

Huh?

You whip your head around to stare out the window so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash, and the sight that greets you is nearly enough to give you a heart attack on the spot.

Oh, it’s Spiderman alright. Your Spiderman.

Your maybe-vampire-but-maybe-not (he hasn’t combusted in sunlight yet, but then again he wears a full-body spandex suit) Spiderman.

Your Spiderman is right there in front of you in plain sight on the outside of the building, plastered to the wide wall-to-wall meeting room window. That dark blue super suit with the angry red spider emblazoned on his chest like a neon sign screaming: ‘Here I am!’

Your boss skips closer to the window in giddy excitement, until the two of them are only about a feet away from each other separated by a half an inch of glass.

“Look, his suit is different! I wonder if it’s an upgrade?” she exclaims, tilting her head to study him from the window. “He sure is a lot bigger in person, isn’t he?”

You feel the blood drain from your face, and the whole of your back breaks out in cold clammy sweat against your blouse. Doing your best to act normal, you force yourself to stay seated in your chair despite the shrill scream ringing in your head and the way your heart is threatening to leap right out of your throat.

What the hell does he think he’s doing!?

Thank fuck your boss still has her back to you, too enthralled by the unexpected superhero sighting to pay attention to anything else. You take advantage of her distraction to gesture frantically at Miguel, waving him away with as covert of a shooing motion as you can manage and praying that he’ll take the hint.

You know he sees you because the triangular outlines of his eyes narrow into annoyed slits and then he turns his face away as if offended, refusing to look at you. But at least he finally moves, leaping into the air and disappearing out of the sight of the window.

“Oh, shoot! There he goes again,” your boss says, letting out a long, loud sigh as if even she doesn’t want to go back to listening to her own voice for the rest of this meeting. “Well, back to work. Guess that was the excitement for the day.”

Scratch what you were saying before. There are no more completely mundane days. Not now that Miguel O’Hara has entered your life.

Once upon a time, your biggest dilemma with him was that he was avoiding you, refusing all your attempts to force a face-to-face meeting. Now you find yourself in the strange position of having the opposite problem.

True to his promise, Miguel is always there to protect you.

In fact, he’s just plain always there.

Never more than 10 feet away, regardless of where you go. He’s the last thing you see… or rather, hear before you go to sleep, his incessant snoring reverberating off the walls of your shared hotel room. Then, when you wake, it’s to his big 6’9” frame draped across the tiny velvet sofa, his long legs sticking off the end and hanging out into the room.

Miguel hovers over you when you eat, in case you get another piece of toast stuck in your throat and he needs to do the Heimlich maneuver on you again. Or, like that one time last week, in case you developed another hitherto completely undiscovered food allergy and have to be rushed to the ER. He is constantly on alert, eyes glued to you at all times.

Miguel comes with you when you go grocery shopping at the corner bodega. Sticking close to your back in the cramped aisles, lest one of the shelves fall over and bury you under crates of Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops… again. He has a sneaky habit of covertly dropping the most nutritiously questionable grocery items in your basket: jellied donuts, sugar-frosted pop tarts, fun dip and jolly ranchers. He eats like a five year old who has too much pocket money and no understanding of the food pyramid. It’s worrying to watch and you definitely google diabetes risk for spiders at least once, but the internet has nothing helpful to offer on that front.

Even when you’re relaxing in the luxury hotel suite that’s become your home, flipping through Tik Tok-edits on your iPhone (the newest model, which Lyla snagged for you!) or catching up on Netflix, Miguel is always right there. Not two steps away from you, looking over your shoulder.

Being the constant center of Miguel's attention is… disconcerting. You know it’s because he’s watching for the next random disaster to strike, but having his eyes on you nonstop leaves you feeling uncomfortably aware of him all the time. Especially when you’re trying to watch Bridgerton on your new macbook pro (also courtesy Lyla) and an R-rated scene comes on. You’ve resorted to having Lyla order books and magazines for him in an attempt to keep him occupied, but it doesn’t seem to make much difference.

It’s so bad that you can barely go to the bathroom without Miguel guarding the door like a zealous German Shepherd, his back plastered to the nearest wall when you emerge. You try not to let the lack of privacy bother you… or to think about the fact that his spidey-supersenses probably let him hear everything.

The only place Miguel doesn’t come with you is when you go to work, because he doesn’t have the clearance needed to get into the building—tourists and non-personnel aren’t allowed any further than the lobby. It doesn’t stop him from climbing the walls of the building and hanging around outside the 44th floor though. You know he’s there because, you see his shadow blurring at the window whenever you get up to get more coffee or unstick the paper jammed in the printer.

It’s an adjustment, but for all the madness that comes with the package, having Miguel around does make you feel safe.

Time always seems to pass too quickly when there’s a deadline approaching.

The problem is that right now the due it’s not the date of a school assignment or some work project that you’re worrying about. And if you take too long, the consequences will be much worse than a lower grade or a slap on the wrist. If you fail to meet this deadline, it will be the end of the world—not just as you know it, but for everyone in your entire universe.

A week ago you had been dauntless, facing Miguel down across the table at Starbucks and announcing that you intended to fight cosmically impossible odds in order to live. Bold even, when you’d confidently declared that the only thing you needed was three months and his protection from the universe's murder attempts to make that happen.

In retrospect, you might have been less dauntless and more… delusional, because so far the only real progress you've made is drawing up a Master Plan, complete with a bullet point list and no idea if any of it is actually going to accomplish anything.

'A Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Step 1: Personal history:

Identify past wrongdoings

Determine if they could explain cosmic retaliation

Step 2: Analyze incident patterns:

Study recurring near death incidents

Identify commonalities and patterns

Determine strategies to stop or prevent future occurrences

Step 3: Research genealogy:

Explore family history

Investigate any ancestors who may have incurred celestial grudges

Determine if these grudges extend to descendants

Step 4: Examine past life wrongdoings:

Establish if reincarnation is real

Investigate potential past life transgressions

Assess if they correlate with current cosmic retaliation

Step 5: Seek cosmic expert assistance:

Consider approaching Dr. Strange for guidance

Request expertise in understanding cosmic phenomena

Things had started out okay.

You completed Step 1 in less than a day, quickly compiling a list of all the people you’d wronged in your lifetime. Anything that might make the universe want to intervene on their behalf and dole out some karma against you.

So far, your life's most egregious crimes include:

That time when you wet the bed during a sleepover when you were six and blamed it on your friend Sally Jenkins.

The night you bailed out in the middle of a date with a dentist from Tinder who insisted on ordering for you and kept talking about Alpha and Betas. (It was only after a very confusing and awkward conversation that you realized he was not talking about the omegaverse). You’re pretty sure you did both of you a favor when you told him you were going to use the bathroom before dessert and took off without saying goodbye instead.

That summer you brought only chocolate with coconut back to share with your coworkers after your vacation in Canada so that Matt in accounting (who always steals your yogurt out of the office fridge) couldn’t have any because he's allergic to coconut.

Are those the actions of a good person? Probably not.

Are they petty? Oh yeah.

Are they bad enough to justify karmic retaliation from the universe in the form of death? You doubt it.

As for Step 2, despite all the near death experiences you've had recently, there doesn’t seem to be any discernible pattern that could help you predict or prevent future incidents. After all it’s a bit difficult to predict that an impromptu mounted police parade would take place near your office, only for there to be a wild stampede of panicky horses that tried to mow you over.

Step 3 of your plan? Another dud.

Your family line is made up of uncles working blue-collar jobs at warehouses, aunties who pester you about being single, one grandfather who likes to talk about how things were better in the old days and a grandmother who likes to complain that you never call every time you call her (and another grandma you actually like because she feeds you sweets and cakes when you go visit).

There are no skeletons hidden in your family closet. Nothing interesting at all except maybe that one cousin who claims to have hooked up with Leonardo Di Caprio at Coachella (unverifiable and unlikely).

Your mission to try to figure out if all of this is caused by any past life connections in Step 4?

It had seemed like a reasonable thing to look into, but how the heck do you go about doing that? You’ve put it on hold for now.

As for the final step? Your search to seek out cosmic expert assistance is still ongoing.

Contacting another Supe that has a magical expertise in the cosmic should be the most logical avenue. Doctor Strange is the superhero that famously deals with the magical cosmos stuff, so you figured maybe he could help in some way. That it wouldn't be hard for Miguel to reach out to him, one superhero to another.

It’s the one part of your plan you could actually take action on that seems like it might lead somewhere. Problem is, you've run into a big sassy roadblock named Miguel O'Hara.

Miguel flatly refuses to have anything to do with Dr. Strange.

His justification?

"Hate that guy."

Repeatedly pestering him has gotten you nowhere, and it’s not like you, a random normie, can just rock up outside of Dr. Strange’s residence and ask for help because the universe is out to get you. That’s a good way to get yourself hauled away, like that guy from Colorado who was in the news last year for faking a UFO invasion with cheap props on YouTube and then camping out outside of Bruce Banner’s lab. Idiots like that show up from time to time, Superhero fanatics seeking the attention of the Avengers for some fake emergency.

Worst comes to worst, you could probably just stand outside Doctor Strange’s house until something tries to kill you again and hope that he’ll notice, but you’re not sure the universe won’t thwart you on purpose. Probably not the best use of your limited time, especially since you’re out of PTO.

For now, you’re hoping to change Miguel’s mind through sheer persistence, but given how stubborn the man is, that might be more of a lost cause than trying to thwart the universe itself.

It’s payday today, and you’ve decided to take Miguel to dinner in Chinatown as thanks for the man’s continuous efforts in saving your life.

As touristy as that area can be, there are some good, cheap diners owned by grumpy Cantonese families that serve large enough portions to feed this horse of a man.

It’s not entirely selfless. You’re tired of being cooped up in the hotel room as soon as you get off work, and you want to stretch your legs. You’re also hoping that stuffing Miguel full of food will make him more receptive to the next round of your arguments in favor of Step 5 of your Cosmic Masterplan.

But you’ve been here for two hours now, and you’re not sure Miguel knows the meaning of the word full.

He’s ordered egg tarts by the dozen. Crispy fried seafood noodles drenched in sweet cornstarch slurry. Deep fried turnip cakes soaked in sweet soy sauce. Beef Ho Fun. Every other dish is deep fried and slathered in XO sauce, and you are starting to be genuinely concerned about his cardiovascular health as you watch him shovel it down his maw, barely pausing to chew as he goes.

At least he looks happy while eating? Endearingly so. It’s the only time you’ve seen him relaxed and finally drop his guard a little bit, though you’re sure he’s still aware of every minute detail in his surroundings. You decide it’s better not to say anything since scolding him about being a glutton would be like the pot name calling the kettle. Your wolfish food habits is a shared hobby you have with Miguel at this point.

“What’s wrong with the egg tarts?” you ask, eyeing the plate that lies still untouched on the table, the only food to have escaped Miguel’s massacre. Given how sweet they are, you would have expected him to inhale them within seconds.

“I ordered them for you,” he says, not slowing down as he spears more food onto his plate. “Your favorite, right?”

You nod slowly and reach for one, touched by the gesture but not sure what to say.

There’s a fleck of sauce smudged on his cheek, a stray rice grain on his nose. He looks like any other civilian as he scarfs down the food in quick succession.

Out of his super suit, he looks different. He’s partial to oversized clothes that makes him look oddly gangly even with his build. You’ve caught him with glasses on more than once, even though you’re pretty sure he’s mentioned that supersight is one of the things he’s gifted with. You can’t help but wonder if he wears them out of a sense of habit or if it’s a conscious fashion choice. Probably the former, given what you’ve seen him wear so far—fashion doesn’t seem to be one of his fortes. All in all, it makes him look like a much homelier person with a slightly nerdy vibe than the handsome superhero when he’s on the job.

He’s softer without the supersuit. Still scowling, but it’s less intimidating when he’s doing it wearing a big hoodie with dumb logos printed across his chest.

It’s still odd seeing Rude Spiderman in these domestic settings, but you think you prefer him like this.

“How’s your plan coming along?” he asks, mouth full of fried rice as he’s already reaching for a piece of char siu.

Of course, he has to ask you a question just as you bite into sweet and creamy egg custard.

“I’m kind of stuck,” you admit, the words muffled slightly by the pastry in your mouth. “I think we need to talk about reaching out to Dr. Strange.”

“No.” He doesn’t even bother to stop eating, still chewing with a gusto as the word emerges.

Nothing more than that. No reasons or explanation given, just ‘No.’

Irritation brews in your chest at his unhelpfulness. He’s throwing a monkey wrench into your cosmic survival masterplan, and he won’t even tell you why.

Too busy stuffing his face with crispy wontons.

“But why? He’s the only Avenger with an expertise in cosmic magic!”

“Expertise, my ass,” he retorts.

“Why do you hate him so much?” You slide the plate of roasted duck across the table, away from him, and that finally makes him pay proper attention.

Miguel is doing that scowling thing again, first at you and then dropping his gaze to glaring down at his rice and chopstick like he’s about to stab it.

“Because he’s an idiot. “Doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Gives terrible advice.”

“He was one of the world’s leading brain surgeons,” you huff. “I don’t think he’s an idiot, Miguel.”

Miguel leans over the table, sliding the plate back closer to where he’s seated.

“Being handy with a scalpel isn’t a transferable skill to the supernatural. And he wears a cape. Only idiots wear capes.”

“Wait, what? You don’t like him because he wears a cape!?” you spit out incredulously. You don’t understand this man’s logic sometimes.

“Capes are impractical. Get snagged everywhere. No superhero worth the name would wear one,” he explain as if this alone perfectly justifies hating someone. He stabs a piece of meat with his chopstick and brings it to his mouth. “I will never ask that man for help again.”

Then he inhales the rest of the plate of roasted duck.

You leave the restaurant frustrated.

Miguel’s stubbornness remains as immovable as stone, and this big red and blue boulder has left you stuck at a dead end roadblock in the middle of a street, one you don’t know how to get around. He won't agree to talk to Strange, and you don’t know what else to do.

You need divine inspiration, or failing that maybe just… a hint. Something to tell you what direction to go in. Some kind of a sign.

Deep in thought, you turn round a corner, barely noticing how the alley narrows as you keep walking forward. It’s not until a pile of crates in front blocks your path, forcing you to stop dead in your tracks that you lift your head to survey your surroundings.

You and Miguel are at a small alley that you don’t recognize, which is weird because you know this area like the back of your hand. Somewhere along the way you must’ve taken a wrong turn.

Just ahead of you, there's a red stall set up on the sidewalk surrounding a small rickety table with red cloth draped over it, a couple of folding chairs set up in front.

Above it is… a giant sign. Fortune Teller, it says.

Not quite the metaphorical sign you were asking for a few minutes ago, but maybe the universe has given up on subtlety for today. Hey, at least it’s not trying to kill you… unless fortune teller assassins are a thing. Shit, is the universe resorting to baiting traps now? You really hope it doesn’t start setting out poisoned cookies on window sills, because then it will be game over for you and Miguel both.

You look the stall over, noticing that there are no crystal balls. No tarot cards. No trinkets or ancient scrolls like the ones you see in the movies.

There’s just an old lady. Her head is cleanly shaven, shining slick under the sole street lamp in the alley. She’s wearing a thick robe with a blue shawl draped over her shoulders that seems much too warm for the current weather, and cheap oversized sunglasses perch on her small nose despite it being evening. That outfit is certainly a choice.

Maybe you should be more cautious, but what harm can it do at this point?

The fortune teller certainly looks harmless and frail with her big round cheeks, sitting on a small stool. Even though she looks nothing like her, she makes you think of your grandmother—the one you actually like to call. The grandma who always has cookies stashed away for you when you come to visit.

Maybe she can give you a reading of who you were in your past life.

Maybe she can give you a protection amulet to make the universe chill the fuck out for a while.

Maybe she can burn some incense that will make you relax and get rid of the migraine you've gotten since the universe decided to murder you.

"Miguel." You tug at the lapel of his jacket, and point in the direction of the sign.

He turns around, scanning the space and then his eyes narrow disapprovingly.

"Fortune… teller,” Miguel reads off the sign in a slow skeptic drawl. He doesn't need to say more to express his complete and utter disdain, but that doesn’t stop him.

"You know it's all a scam right? People like this can't actually tell the future. They have no supernatural powers. What they do is cold reading."

It’s entirely unsurprising Miguel doesn't like the idea. There are a lot of things Miguel doesn’t like.

"What else do you propose we do?"

"Ask someone with actual skills who can help us?"

"You were the one who shot down the idea of asking Doctor Strange for help," you remind him.

"I don’t want his help," Miguel shoots back, grimacing as though the mere mention of the name is enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"Yeah, so you keep telling me." You continue on to the stall, despite your companion's strong protests.

The sweet old lady greets you as you sit down at the table. She looks even weirder from up close, her bald head abnormally large for her small body. You try not to stare, not wanting to make her self-conscious, but you can’t help but wonder how gravity keeps her head upright.

“Fifty dollars,” she announces the moment you take a seat.

Fifty bucks to get your fortune read!? Talk about highway robbery! You could get seven overpriced Spiderman cookies for that.

“That’s too much.” You shake your head, rising from your seat.

“Okay, okay. I can do cheaper,” the woman immediately concedes, looking nervous at your sudden outburst, and you have to bite back a smile.

That was easy.

“How much cheaper?” you ask. You know how this game is played.

“Twenty?”

If she’s willing to drop the price from fifty to twenty that easily, you can definitely get her to go lower.

“Ten.” You cross your arms where you stand, making no move to sit down.

“Are you really haggling over this? You were the one who wanted to do this, and now you’re going to cheap out over ten bucks!?” Miguel says from behind you, but you ignore him. It’s enough to have him there looming over the lady as you stare her down, taking a note out of his intimidation tactic book.

“Some of us aren’t made out of money, Miguel–”

“Fine! Ten, I’ll do it for ten,” the lady says over the top of your arguing.

She’s skittish in the sudden silence that follows, looking over her shoulder to her left and right, as if she’s checking if your loud outbursts have attracted any attention.

Seemingly reassured that there’s only the three of you here, she gestures for you to sit back down and then tilts her head towards you.

From behind her sunglasses, you can see that her eyes are clouded white from glaucoma, but when she raises her gaze to give Miguel an appraising look from head to toe, it’s obvious that she’s still able to see.

“Your husband is tall.”

You see Miguel go rigid out the corner of your eye and chance a quick glance up at him. His sour expression hasn’t changed but you can tell he’s uncomfortable from the way his fingers are gripping the fabric of his hoodie where the chain holding his ring is hiding underneath the layers of clothing.

"Can you do a past life reading?" you ask instead, trying to steer the conversation away from anything that might inflict further painful reminders upon him. "I want to know if I could have attracted bad karma in my past lives."

“No such thing,” she says bluntly, shaking her head, "You have no past life. Reincarnation is not real."

That’s step 4 taken care of, you think to yourself, and you think you hear Miguel choke back a laugh behind you. You’re not thrilled that he’s having fun at your expense, but at least he’s not sad anymore.

"Uh… okay…" You try to think of what else was on your list. "Then can I buy a protection amulet or something? I've had really bad luck lately."

The old granny looks you over appraisingly, eyes traveling from the top of your head as far down as she can see before the table top gets in the way, and her benign and friendly smile fades as she does.

"No," she says, eyes wrinkling with worry. "An amulet is of no use to you. Just a waste of money."

Oh wow, grandma is really dissing you right now.

She gestures her hand in a come hither motion to get you to lean down, and then pulls out a paper and pen and starts to draw an uneven circle with thick, crude lines.

"See here?" she says as she loops the circle closed, "This is all of us, our world"

Miguel is suddenly right next to you, hunching down and bent over the small table. You don’t know when he managed to sneak up on you, but he’s right there, so close his shoulder is brushing up against yours.

The fortune teller moves her pen inside the circle to draw a much smaller one, then a forked line sticking out of it, and another line across the center of that one. It’s so crudely drawn it takes you a second to realize it’s a stick figure.

"This is you," she points at it with a pen, seeming to admire her own creation.

Next to you, Miguel is staring down at the childish drawing with his hands crossed against his chest in irritation, his right eyelid is twitching. He looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

Even though he’s not saying a word, you swear you can almost hear his inner monologue, protesting the lady’s poor handmanship and drawing skills. He doesn’t need to say it but even $10 is too much of a price to pay, even for a man with infinity dollars.

Seemingly oblivious to Miguel’s irritation, the fortune teller proceeds to draw angry darts from inside the circle aimed at the poor you stick figure. Pressing so hard with her pen that the ink bleeds into the paper and the darts are starting to look like daggers. You almost wince when you see a couple of them pierce through your stick figure. “Outside interference has brought bad luck to you. It will never go away; it will follow you forever.”

You peer down at the paper with a sense of unease. Aren’t scam fortune tellers supposed to tell you what you want to hear? Where are the reassuring lies? Shouldn’t she be telling you that you’re going to meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger? Or that you were a princess in a past life? Since when do they tell you that you’re doomed to die over and over?

“So what am I supposed to do?” you ask.

“Keep moving,” she says with an unfaltering smile as if she hasn’t given you the most grim fortune telling of all time.

You lean back in your seat deflated. Scam or not, the prognosis isn’t looking good for you right now.

The lady ducks under her desk, and is sorting through a pile of junk paper, before she pops back up again. She shoves something into your hands, and leans over to you with a piercing gaze in her milky-white eyes. “The man who will help you lives here.”

Hope sparks bright in your chest at her words. Finally, a lead! Someone who can help you! You can’t believe your random decision to stop has given you the first clue that might actually lead somewhere!

You look down at what she’s given you. It's a pamphlet map of New York. Yellow and bright, the title reads: ‘Star Maps of Celebrity Homes.’ One of those cheap plastic ones they hand out with the tour buses.

The hope that had been building in your chest deflates, popping like a cheap balloon.

You make yourself scan the tacky star map for any clues as to who she means, but you you don’t see anything to lift you out of your disappointment. As much as you love Robert De Niro and Whoopi Goldberg and would love to get their autographs, you don’t think any of the people on this map are in any position to help you.

You sigh.

Ok, maybe Miguel was right. The fortune teller was a bust. What a waste of money.

From behind you, you can already hear the rustle of movement from him, as he’s stepping away.

“Come on, Cielito,” he says as he nods his head in the direction towards the exit of the alley.

The fortune teller grabs your hands in hers, as she leans in closer to your ear and whispers, as if trying to be out of earshot of Miguel. “Be careful with that one. He’s not from around here.”

Back at the hotel, you plop down on the ridiculously wide and fluffy bed, but not even the luxury of your surroundings can lift your spirits. You’re still uncomfortably full from dinner. The overload of delicious egg tarts sit like lead in your stomach, weighing you down.

Wasn’t there a Swedish king at some point who ate too many sweet buns and died of a burst stomach? Wouldn’t it be ironic if, after all the calamity and disasters you’ve escaped, your gluttony was the thing that ended you? You don’t think anyone who knows you would be surprised to read ‘died from eating too many egg tarts’ in your obituary. It’s perfect. A stupid and meaningless death to match your stupid and meaningless life.

From the corner of your eye, you see Miguel drag off his hoodie over his head. You squint your eyes, pretending not to look as the tan skin of his firm muscled back is revealed to you before he pulls on a tight-fitting white t-shirt that pulls taut against his chest.

The free peep show usually makes excitement and heat thrill through your spine, but tonight it does nothing. You feel… oddly numb.

The lights go off with a gentle click, and then you are left by yourself in darkness with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

You don’t know what to do. The fortune teller had been as stupid and pointless as every other idea you’ve had.

You grit your teeth, sighing as you turn restlessly onto your side in the bed, stretching out your leg to make yourself more comfortable, hoping sleep will claim you so that you can stop these thoughts from running on a constant loop on your brain like the world’s shittiest radio channel.

God, you can’t believe you spent $10 dollars on that fortune teller, and got nothing to show for it except a crappy map meant for gullible tourists.

What are you going to do if you’re too stupid to think of any other ideas? Your skin crawls at the thought, a tangle of worry sitting in the pit of your stomach, climbing upwards and trying to burst out of your chest. You roll over, but it only seems to get worse.

Are you just going to wait out your time like a sitting duck?

You twist your body, squeezing your eyes shut. The thoughts won’t stop.

Are you just going to sit here doing nothing?

Are you going to di–

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeech.

The loud noise startles you, and you freeze, suddenly aware of just how vulnerable you are with only the sheets and comforter for protection.

Oh god, what is trying to kill you this time?

Your eyes are wide open with a strain, staring off into the darkness like a deer in the headlights as you listen to the sound of something sharp scraping against the wooden floor.

It’s coming closer.

Fuck. Is it an assassin? Some kind of otherworldly monster that’s come to drag you to hell with it?

And where is Miguel? Why isn’t he stopping it!?

Maybe he’s gone, a cruel voice whispers in your head. Maybe he’s had enough. Maybe he sees what you don’t want to—the futility of what you’re trying to do. Running around like a headless chicken trying to find a way out of the grand cosmic slaughterhouse that is set on ending your life. Maybe he’s given up on you.

Maybe you need to give up too.

You’re too scared to risk making noise, but you can’t not do anything. You turn as soundlessly as you can in bed, rolling towards Miguel—hoping with all your might that he’ll still be there to save you—only to be greeted by the sight of his back closer than you expect, hunched over the lounge chair as he drags it towards the bed, the metal legs scraping against the floor, making the very sound that had just scared you half to death.

You dart upright in the bed, outraged.

“What are you doing!?”

Miguel looks back at you, then down at the chair he’s moving, and then back up at you with that blank expression on his face.

“Moving this?” He sits down on the lounge chair that’s now next to your bed, “I heard you tossing and turning. Thought you couldn’t sleep.”

There’s a pause as he peers at you in the darkness, then he rubs his hand at the back of his neck.

“Shit, did the noise scare you? Sorry, Cielito.”

There’s that nickname again. You don’t remember when it started or where it came from, but it’s something he’s been calling you more and more often. He’s wearing a wrinkly oversized t-shirt and a sheepish expression as he’s eyeing you, making sure you’re okay. It’s almost, nearly endearing.

“Why do you keep calling me Cielito?” you ask. “Is that what you used to call other me?”

“No, I didn’t call her that.” He shakes his head, the same aching longing in his eyes that’s always there at the mention of your other self. “I called her Nena.”

“Then why Cielito?”

He tilts his head down at you as if the answer is obvious, and then he breaks out into a small smile. “Because you keep falling through the sky.”

You stare at him in silence for a second, at the goofy looking grin he’s wearing. He looks so proud of himself and his silly dad joke that you can’t help but smile back, laughter bubbling up and out of your chest. His smile just gets bigger.

What a dork.

You lay back down in bed, still tittering with laughter, and there’s a comforting weight that rests on top of your head for a brief moment. It’s his hand. The touch is pleasant, his palm warm against your skin, and the comfort of it erases the last trace of residual alarm in your body.

“Just go to sleep already." The words are impatient, but his voice is gentle, and it makes your chest warm as he continues, “It’s okay. You don't have to worry. I won't let anything happen to you.”

He hasn’t given up on you.

His words drip through your insides and warms you from inside out. It’s comforting, the way a blanket feels wrapped around you in the winter when your heating is out. He sounds so confident when he says them. Like there’s no doubt in his mind that you’ll survive this, because he will personally see to it. The anxious chatter in your mind finally quiets, and you close your eyes, knowing he’s only an arm’s length away.

Somehow, with Miguel here, the impossible odds you’re up against don’t seem quite so impossible, and hope buzzes pleasantly in your chest as you drift off to sleep. It's the best sleep you've had in a long time.

~ Next Issue

Credits & Dedication: Love a thousand and million years for @thirstworldproblemss who had to finely comb over and beta-read and edit this chapter over and over and rubber duck i with me while I was fixing up the details. I hope that I get to write with her til I go old and grey and senile, because it is the most wonderful joy and experience and I love her so.

This chapter is also dedicated to the wonderful and talented @forwantofwill who was endlessly kind in doing this amazing, beautiful piece of art of Miguel eating cookies in the windowsill Thank you so so much for making this and gifting me not just with your immense talent but also your time!

For those of you who haven't yet please follow her! She's amazingly talented and have such a wonderful blog filled with gorgeous and amazing fanart!

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow astroboots-writes and turn on notifs.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #marvel #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel mcu

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Note

Hi! I hope you feel better soon 💜 I have funny lil request if you are at all interested. So Bucky has a lil crush on the reader, and one day walks by their room and hears something that makes him a bit jealous. He hears the reader giggling, and saying stuff jokingly like "Stop Charlie, that tickles!" or "You're so handsome," and Bucky becomes sad because he thinks the reader has found someone. But then he later finds out that the reader was actually dog sitting for a friend. What happens next is up to you, and feel free to change anything to make it more interesting! I chose Charlie as a random dog name that's also human, but its just an example. If you find any inspiration from this, I encourage you to take it in absolutely any direction you want! (as long as it has a happy ending, bc Im a sucker for happy endings hehe)

okay what I find hilarious and amazing about this is I HAVE HAD THIS EXAAACT SAME IDEA, WHY DID I NEVER WRITE IT. THIS IS SO ADORABLE. This is a sign. From the universe.

The only thing I'm changing here is the name because I find it hilarious when dogs have more common people names.

It started off with your sweet smiles, they’re so contagious, he can’t help but smile back. He starts to find his heart jumping a little whenever you’re around, he almost goes to Bruce to get a medical check up cause why is his heart doing that. Stop that. He can’t control the way you make him blush and he realizes he likes you. Likes you likes you. Its a cute little crush he has that he tries to keep a secret because its just a little crush, nothing to get worked up over.

He’s too scared to ask you out, he gets tongue tied the second he tries to attempt anything.

It all goes sideways he walks by your room one day.

"Daniel, bubba you're too heavy to be lying on me like this!"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Maybe he heard wrong.

"Baby, stop that tickles"

Baby? You never mentioned dating anyone before.

"Hey! You can't get away with that just because you're so handsome"

Bucky blinked, his jaw clenching, who the fuck was this Daniel, and why he with you. He wanted to know exactly how “handsome” this punk was, making you giggle and laugh, he should be the one doing that.

"Hmmm, you know you're so handsome don't you baby"

Bucky shook his head, huffing to his room to pout, he had to find out who the hell this guy was. Or not. If was sure he’d probably punch the guy in the neck.

Imagine his surprise when he over hears the team just casually talking to you about Daniel.

With Sam

Sam: So how's Daniel doing? You: He's good, I'm going to see him later today if I have some time, we might go for a walk in the park

Sam: Aww, the weather’s supposed to be nice out, maybe you can even stop by the lake!

With Tony

You: Daniel's coming over later, is that okay?

Tony: Sure, just don't make a mess in the living room like last time

You: Sorry, I'll keep him in check

Tony: He’s great otherwise, you should bring him around more often

Bucky nearly saw stars with that conversation, the last thing he needed was more of you and Daniel. The final straw was when he heard you talking to Steve.

Steve: You think I can steal Daniel from you

You: I’m sure he’d love that, he loves going on runs with you, I can’t keep up with his energy

Steve: He’s great, wish he was around more often, let me know when he’s coming by next

Okay, stealing his crush was one thing, but Bucky drew the boundary at this clown moving in on his best friend too.

*****

“Can you tell me what the hell is so great about Daniel” Bucky huffed, fidgeting with his fingers, sitting on the couch while Sam tinkered with redwing.

“What do you mean what’s so great, he’s amazing! He’s friendly, he’s great with kids, he’s super sweet, gets along with everyone. You haven’t met him?”

“No” Bucky rolled his eyes, every time he thought it was bad, it got worse. Now the guy was great with kids too. Fantastic. Before Sam could respond, Bucky hear you call for him.

“Oh my God Bucky!! You have to meet Daniel!” You ran up to him, bouncing on your feet. Every time Daniel had come by, Bucky had either been called away on a mission or busy with something. You’d been dying for him to meet your favorite baby in the whole world.

“I was busy y/n” Bucky tried to sound grumpy but he just couldn’t with you, pouting like a kicked puppy instead. He might as well meet the guy that seemed to have your heart.

“You were just sitting with Sam, please?” You gave him your best pout and Bucky melted instantly, nodding while you ran back again to show your favorite soldier your best fur baby.

Bucky’s eyes widened at the massive golden retriever that came bounding in, immediately pouncing on him and attacking him with kisses.

“Daniel!!” You tried to pull him off but he wasn’t having it, trying to snuggle himself into Bucky, keeping him pinned on the floor. “Baby, get off him, I told you you’re too big!”

“This-this is Daniel?” Bucky blinked between getting his face licked, too stunned to say much else

“Yeah! Why, who did you think it was”

“Your boyfriend” Sam snorted, watching the scene unfold in front of him, wiggling his eye brows at Bucky.

“I-no-” Bucky blushed, while sitting up slightly, petting the fluffy baby behind the ears, allowing him to sit in his lap.

“Man, shut up, just admit you were jealous over y/n 4 legged boyfriend”

“Did you think Daniel was my boyfriend?” you giggled, sitting down beside him, your heart beating a little faster when he bit his lip. Did he like you back? “Were you jealous?” you whispered, inching a little closer to him, while he smiled softly not meeting your eyes.

“Maybe a little”

You both inched closer and closer until your hand was brushing his, his fingers hesitantly intertwining with yours while Daniel happily made himself comfortable across your laps, his head resting on Bucky’s thigh. Tony and Steve entered the living room looking pleased when they saw how close the two of you were sitting.

“Ah, I see you met y/n’s boyfriend” Tony snorted while Bucky groaned, covering his face. “Cheating on Daniel now are we?” He nodded at your hand in Bucky’s while you laughed, kissing his cheek, making him blush more.

“Hmm, Bucky doesn’t mind a little competition”

“I hate all of you”

Tags:

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giggleme-green · 8 months

Note

hi !!! i just wanted to say omfg i love your art !!!! you're super talented and seeing your drawings across my dash always makes my day !! could you draw fell papyrus ? i love how you draw the silly papyruses and would love to see more of him in your style, but no worries if you can't !! i hope you have an absolutely fantastic day :D

THANK YOU!!! You’re so very kind👊💀♥️💕💕💞💖♥️

Edgy guy belongs to @underfell 👾

#hands you spikey skeleton images #undertale au #underfell #underfell papyrus #papyrus #undertale #artists on tumblr #late response #thanks for the ask!#☠️❤️☠️❤️☠️

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ineffableparents · 11 months

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I just wanted to say you're my fav gomens artist of all time and this comic gives me life, I think it's the loveliest thing and really brightens my day. everyone's characterization is perfect and sweet and fun, and you're writing is lovely and I think very on point for the characters, and it's such a joy, and one day when I'm not flat broke and homeless I wanna be a patron so bad cuz I'm tryin to see the juicy things too lmao. But fr you deserve all the love for such a fantastic work. Ur art in general has such a warm and emotive feel to it. and even when you draw the characters in a silly way it just is, so fun??? You have such distinct personality in ur work that really stands out. And I hope it isn't silly to say but whenever I read fanfic I imagine it in your art style lol. It's made a wonderful impression on me, and as a trans man I really REALLY appreciate anyone who does work involving subjects such as mpreg or anything that potentially real ppl who are trans can go through. Warms me heart it does. Anyway this was super long winded I'm sorry lol

TLDR;

This was the lovliest note to read! 😭🧡🧡🧡🧡🫂 thank you so much for your kind words, I'm so happy you get so much enjoyment from the stuff I make! I'm so sorry to hear your situation is so rough at the moment, I wish you all the best, if you have a paypal or something that I or any of my followers can donate to, Please let me know.🫂

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yuriyuruandyuraart · 2 years

Text

the drawings from yesterday's aggie!!

a big thank you to everyone who took the time to hop in and say hi, and to all of those who drew with me for the past 8 hours i spent doodling and avoiding my responsibilities<333

the art here belongs to me and

@help-im-a-gay-fish

@bluepallilworld

@diofasolia

(and thank you to @adorablemew and @its-paperd for passing by<33)

#my art #aggie #other's art #i'm not tagging every character drawn here i'm too tired xD #but shark solia (sholia) and bunny blue (bluebun) are now their fursonas/j #no like seriously i had a lot of fun catching up with you guys and finally drawing with a pen after so long ejfzjgez :'D #man it feels like i forgot how easy lineart feels like when i'm not torturing myself struggling with harsh shaky strokes xD #i really wish i could get more time to draw stuff for you guys!! school is just killing me rn :') </3 #hope you're all having a super fantastic day<333

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commander-rahrah · 5 months

Note

I'm excited to read it too! I'm glad you find it interesting! Don't worry about your post because long! Your thoughts are so interesting!

I agree that Astarion would have to come to terms with Reader/Tav's boundaries too since it works both ways! I definitely feel that Astarion would be too lost in drinking from the blood of a sentient creature to notice the signs.

He would feel ashamed when he's aware of their fear yet they still chose to offer despite that might made him feel like he manipulated them like Cazador did to him 😭

What his excuses are if they try to offer in the early days makes sense! He would be too ashamed & terrified to have such a vulnerable conversation with them yet 😞

He would feel safe enough to bring up their fear after he confessed about everything. He would make it clear to them he doesn't want them to suffer by making them do something they don't want to like he did especially after how much they have helped him & how important they are to him 😭

He would respect their decision if they said it's too much for them. He would support everyone's personal choices & autonomies even though the concept is still new to him 😤

He would need an explanation if they insist on feeding him regardless of their fear. They would explain that not only do they trust him, they love him more than they fear it 🥹

He would only accept if they establish some ground rules 👍 like he did when it comes to physical intimacy & sex which is healthy for both of them!

I know it's unrelated but thank you for adding this because you described me pretty well 🤣 I would definitely react to even the smallest of cuts so Astarion quickly but gently sucking it & giving a small kiss on it would be a fantastic distraction 😳

You're welcome! Thank YOU for entertaining me & sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you enjoy putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios too 🤍

Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav actually had suspicions that he's using them but still chose to believe that he's not. So when he confessed he manipulated them, they're even not angry at him.

They're sad for how much & how long he has suffered to be the way he is now, but they're also genuinely hurt that he did take advantage of their trust in him. They don't blame him but they admit it still hurts and wants some time alone to process it.

After leaving them be, they would go to him when they're ready to talk to him. They would tell him how grateful they are that he chose to come clean with them despite knowing how it would be easier for him to keep quiet for it, and thanked him for trusting them enough to be honest with them.

What do you think of it? I'm curious :3

Hi Anon! Sorry for the super late response, I let this one stew for a little while in my brain and the other night I had this dialogue idea and couldn’t resist writing a little scene about it tonight! I hope you enjoy ❤️

I envisioned this scene happens half way through his confession, and then imagined the rest of the conversation about intimacy and boundaries would happen afterwards! It’s about 1100 words, and canonical Astarion backstory warnings apply — trauma, dark thoughts, etc.

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

“I just — I feel awful." Astarion’s throat worked silently, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction.

“I—oh,” You pulled your hand away from him as uncertainty flooded your features. He saw your eyes dart back and forth, but they weren’t studying him. No, you were lost in thought. “Oh.”

Astarion licked his lips, his hands ringing together in front of him nervously. “You have every right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry. I thought we… I don’t know what I thought.”

The rest of what he had planned to say vanished out of his mind. Instead it started to betray him, a cruel voice whispering about how he knew you would react like this. Did he really think it would go well?

His pink mouth hung open as he scrambled for what to say, trying to think of how to make this better. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?

You crossed your arms over your body, your cheeks flushing deeply. “I feel a bit like a fool. None of it was real, the whole time?”

“Not the whole time,” He confessed as soft, vulnerable moments with you flashed in his mind. The very moments that made him start to drop the act. “It hasn’t been as of late, but before… in the beginning, up until recently, yes.”

His red eyes followed your throat as it bobbed up and down before flicking back up to your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth a sad pout.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Astarion whispered, not daring to move forward.

“I’m thinking… I need a moment.” You admitted, already looking behind you and away from him.

His heart sank, but he nodded. “I— okay. Of course.”

And then you were off, your head down as you stalked away from the edge of the beach and back to the warm glow of camp.

He stood there stunned for a moment, before turning around to stare at the dark, choppy waters in front of him. Hundreds of scenarios began to dance in his mind — what if you went back to the camp to tell the others? Would he be met by pointed blades and blazing spells? He imagined being kicked out, staked, cursed, roasted alive with fireballs. Hand delivered to Cazador as extra punishment for his sins. Anything his twisted broken mind could come up with played like a messed up vision.

Astarion didn’t even try to stop the repetitive dark thoughts. It was what he deserved.

Eventually, the vampire slinked back into the camp some time later — once the sky was inky black and the moon was the only light to illuminate the way back to his tent.

“Hi.”

The sound caused his ears and shoulders to perk up instantly. You were sat in the grass and dirt outside of his tent, your arms wrapped around your knees and pulled to your chest.

“Hi.” Gods, he sounded breathless. But he couldn’t see any weapons or angry barbarians or wizards nearby. That was a good sign, right?

“I wasn’t sure when you’d come back.”

He cocked a brow, “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

A sigh escaped your lips, “Astarion, don’t be dramatic. I asked for time to think — not for you to leave.”

He blinked at your sharp tone, but nodded his head in slight defeat. “You’re right. And you waited for me because—?”

You brushed off your clothes as you stood up to his height, “I would like to finish that conversation, if you’re ready.”

Well, there was no denying the inevitable.

He nodded his head solemnly, stepping forward to open the flap of his tent and inviting you in with a wave of his hand.

The privacy his tent offered was slight, but this late in the night he knew most of his companions would be fast asleep. Quickly lighting a lantern, he joined you on the fabric floor.

His half-dead heart was thundering, the thrumming sound echoing in his pointed ears that he almost missed your quiet voice.

“I understand.”

“What?” His brows furrowed, looking at you with confusion.

“The stories you’ve told me… your scars… I understand why you did it, why you felt the need to do it.” You explained, your voice and eyes tender as you looked at him in the low light. “But you manipulated me, Astarion. You took advantage of me, toyed with me and my emotions to get what you needed. That hurts.”

Astarion’s stomach twisted into a hard knot, “I know.”

“But you also didn’t need to tell me any of this. You could have kept pretending, kept up the charade until we faced Cazador… But you didn’t. Why?”

Now it felt like his stomach was crawling up his torso and into his throat. Gods, what was this feeling? Why did you do this to him. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. I failed with my plan. It felt apart the moment I realized… that I had fallen for you.” He admitted, but his fluttering heart made more words stumble out of his mouth. “And I know you probably don’t believe me, why would you after everything I just told you. Trust me, nobody feels more stupid about it than I do.”

You cut off his rambling, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that’s probably the most honest you’ve been with me since I’ve met you,” You said earnestly. “It would have been a lot easier for you to keep on pretending, wouldn’t it? Pretend I’m just another mark, another means to an end to get through the day.”

“I don’t want easy… I don’t want to just get through the day. Not anymore.” Astarion whispered across the small tent, staring intently at you.

You cocked your head slightly in question, “And what do you want?”

“I want this, I want us — to be real. You deserve something real.”

“So do you, Astarion. You deserve something real.”

Your name escaped his lips as a choked sob as overwhelming wave of emotion settled over him. “I don’t even know what real looks like. How do I give that to you if I—?”

“Do you trust me?”

The vampire nodded through his tears, “Yes.”

“I trust you,” You said softly.

“After everything I’ve done?” He croaked, waving his hands dramatically, “You’d trust a monster—“

You grabbed onto his extended fingers gently, squeezing them. “Yes, even then.”

He looked down at your hands touching, before intertwining his pale fingers with yours carefully. “Maybe you are a fool.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the sound waking up something in him he’d long thought dead. “Maybe, I am. But you fell for me, so what does that make you?”

Astarion’s mouth twitched up until it matched your smile, “The luckiest vampire alive.”

#commander-rahrah answers #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #Astarion X reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav

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e-vay · 18 days

Note

I have some song suggestions for your sonamy playlist, if you are open to listen to some! ^^

Everyone has their own taste and preferences of course, but these tracks always made me think of them in one way or another :

You’re still the one - Alex melton (this is a cover so the original by Shania Twain obviously works too lol I just prefer this cover, it’s more my genre )

Unconditionally - Katy Perry

Jet lag - simple plan ft Natasha bedingfield (Vibe of when missions or something causes them to separate for extended periods of time~ )

Your guardian angel - red jumpsuit apparatus (😭 I’m sure you know this one already but gawd damn , if that ain’t sonic fully willing to sacrifice himself for her, on his potential death bed confessing his love… )

If it kills me -From the Casa Nova Sessions - Jason Mraz **MUST BE the casa Nova sessions version, trust me, it’s so much more emotional **(This one …. Uggh this one is everything.. I have so many fic ideas birthed from this swirling around in my brain 😩)

Hungry Heart ft. Hayley Kiyoko - Steve Aoki

Million bucks - smallpools

Come on get higher - Matt nathanson

Anyways , no pressure at all if you don’t want to take a listen, only if you want to :) have a good day!

I'm sorry-

You're gonna come into MY HOUSE, suggest a bunch of BANGERS for my PLAYLIST, hint that you have SONAMY FIC IDEAS THAT YOU'RE TEMPTED TO WRITE, and then you're gonna stay ANONYMOUS ON ME?!

You heartbreaker!

Jokes aside, these songs were super great and most were totally my style of music! I had heard a few of these but forgot about them so those were a fantastic rush of nostalgia. Thank you for sharing and I hope one day you write the story/stories you were thinking and that I get to read them!

#ask me #evayQA #songs #playlist #music #sonamy #sonic trash

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ninja-muse · 20 days

Text

August is over! My reading month felt like it took forever even though otherwise, the month flew by. I blame this half on my top two reads of the month, which I was only reading in short snippets, and half on a number of lackluster reads and DNFs. I'm hoping to get back into my usual habits in September.

I did do better on reading off my physical TBR though! Even though one book was a "aw man, what do I read now?" and two more were, "I'm behind on my goal, quick, read something fast!" Plus the T. Kingfisher, which was graciously provided by my work, as was Running Close to the Wind. (Finally a month where I didn't spend money to add to my library!)

As for my top reads, The Salmon Shanties would be near the top of my list even if there wasn't a degree of reverse-nepotism involved. Absolutely excellent poetry collection, very layered and complex. If you're into Canadian poetry or poetry-of-place, pick it up! And Rose/House, once I got it back from the library because my Libby hold ran out, was absolutely fantastic! As was the quality of the French translation, because it sounded like Martine. So very, very glad I had the nerve (and linguistic ability) to read it. Super-creepy and I'm glad Tor's picked it up so I can hype the heck out of it next year. And then there's Jinn-Bot, which I wrote an actual review for.

On the other end of the list, sigh. I DNFed one book for feeling kind of trite, and another for being too predictable, and probably should have DNFed Voyage of the Damned for being uneven but I needed to know who the killer was. The Library Thief I'm also counting as lackluster—very good book, just wasn't for me or what I was expecting. Still deserves a 7.

Lula Dean, on the other hand, was surprisingly good! Fun and satirical and just plain entertaining. Read it in a couple days and it would likely be higher on my list except my reasons to be "glad to have read them" this month are less about quality and entertainingness than usual. I can't put "really liked this" above "finally I get to read a new book by X!", for instance. Or necessarily above "learned stuff!"

You might notice a distinct lack of any other news, and that's because there is none. September may be marginally more exciting, we'll see. (I know there'll be a bigger book haul.)

Anyway, on to September now, and in the meantime, here's my list everything I read this month, in the rough order of how glad I was to have read them.

The Salmon Shanties - Harold Rhenisch

A collection of poems centered on and celebrating Cascadia in all its facets (or taking it to task, as the case may be). Out in September.

10/10

🇨🇦

warning: mentions racism, colonization, genocide

digital reading copy

Rose/House - Arkady Martine

There is a body within Rose House—two, if you count its architect, who ordered the house shuttered with his passing and left to its AI. Only one person is allowed to enter now, and she’s accounted for. And yet there is a body within Rose House….

9/10

🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: descriptions of a dead body

library ebook

The Jinn-Bot of Shantiport - Samit Basu

Lina and Bador want freedom: from surveillance, from power structures, for their city, for all bots, or just for their family. This might come from cunning, or revolution, or a lost ancient artifact, or an underground bot-battle, or swaying a visiting space hero or the Not-Prince. Much more than an Aladdin retelling.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (multisexual, achillean), Indian-coded cast, Indian author

warning: discusses colonization and oppression, references police violence

reading copy

Unwritten, Vol. 8 - Mike Carey with Peter Gross, Dean Ormston, Yuko Shimizu

When Tommy Taylor learns that Lizzie is trapped in the land of the dead, he goes to rescue her—but he’s unprepared for his adventures there, or the wider implications.

8/10

Indigenous Australian secondary character

off my TBR

All Quiet on the Western Front - Erich Maria Remarque

Paul Bäumer recounts his time serving in the German army in WWI.

7/10

warning: war, death, animal death, gore, injury

off my TBR

A Sorceress Comes to Call - T. Kingfisher

Cordelia’s terrible mother has decided to marry a squire. Cordelia knows he and his sister don’t deserve that—but how to stop her, when she can do magic?

7.5/10

warning: child abuse, torture, murder, animal cruelty and death

finished copy received through work

A Man and His Cat, Vol. 4 - Umi Sakurai

Kanda gets the courage to make a new friend and revisit an old situation.

7/10

Japanese cast, Japanese author

off my TBR

A Gentleman from Japan - Thomas Lockley

The true story of a Japanese man who was brought to the court of Elizabeth I and influenced early modern English science.

7.5/10

warning: slavery, orientalism, war and violence

library book

Lula Dean’s Little Library of Banned Books - Kirsten Miller

In Troy, Georgia, the fight for public decency is kicked off by Lula Dean, who craves attention and loves her Southern history—and her fencepost library, where someone’s put wholesome jackets over books she’s tried to ban….

7/10

ensemble cast including Black, 🏳️‍🌈 (gay, lesbian), and Indo-American POV characters

warning: Nazis, anti-Semitism, anti-Black racism, homophobia, rape, suicide

reading copy

The Library Thief - Kuchenga Shenjé

Florence talks her way into a job repairing a lord’s library, but is quickly drawn in by the mysterious death of the lady of the house. A gothic novel centering race, gender, and other marginalizations in late Victorian England.

7/10

Black British main character, Black British secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (trans woman, sapphic), Black British author

warning: racism, including slurs; rape, abuse, misogyny, queerphobia

library book

The Voyage of the Damned - Frances White

A grand state voyage is upset by murder and it’s up to the lowly, non-Blessed Ganymedes to catch the killer before they dock. Goddess help them all if he doesn’t….

5.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (multisexual), fat protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (nonbinary, ace, trans man, sapphic, achillean), Indian-, African-, and Japanese-coded secondary characters

warning: murder, injuries, blood, colonial thinking, attempted genocide, suicidal thoughts

reading copy

DNF

Remedial Magic - Melissa Marr

Safe and ordinary Ellie meets a mysterious woman in her library, and is whisked to a fantasy world where she’s probably a witch—and almost certainly in trouble.

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 author

reading copy

Casket Case - Lauren Evans

Garrett stops to ask for directions at Nora’s casket shop and they hit it off. Unfortunately he works for Death…. Out in September.

African-American secondary characters

reading copy

Currently reading

A Natural History of Dragons - Marie Brennan

A memoir by Lady Trent, renowned natural philosopher and adventuress, but covering her childhood and first expedition, to the mountain highlands of Vystrana, and the troublesome dragons encountered there.

library book

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts. The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle Victorian detective stories.

disabled POV character (limb injury), occasional Indian secondary characters

warning: racism, colonialism

Monthly total: 11 Yearly total: 70 Queer books: 1 Authors of colour: 3 Books by women: 6 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 1 Classics: 1 Off the TBR shelves: 4 Books hauled: 2 ARCs acquired: 3 ARCs unhauled: 6 DNFs: 2

January February March April May June July

#books #booklr #bookblr #reading wrap-ups #rec lists #book recommendations #read in 2024 #my photos

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clubdionysus · 5 months

Text

[BAD DECISION #9] White

warnings: birdie time he he. honestly just very wholesome all round, but the embers are burningggg, they’re very wet! fantastic! (1) mention of Hang Sơn Đoòng (worlds biggest cave).

soundtrack: lemon - loco, hwasa; safety zone - j-hope

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

It's mid-morning the following Monday when Jeongguk's message lands in your inbox. The sky is free of clouds, sun beating down on the windows of the subway carriage you're in. It's above ground, crossing the river.

Summer is reaching the end of its peak, but monsoons are still a looming threat. There have been weather warnings all month, but today seems okay. You've an umbrella tucked into your tote just in case, legs crossed as you flick through your notifications on the subway.

Three unread messages sit pretty at the top of your inbox.

Jeongguk: Still on for today?

Danbi: u, me, ryan reynolds in lycra, tonight. game?

Seokjin: such a tease, you know i love those shorts on you - if memory serves me correctly they were off far more than they were on whenever you wore them ;) you around tonight?

Jeongguk is probably the only one who needs a reply, and yet you can't help but stare at Seokjin's message for a little longer than you should.

If Danbi knew you were texting him, she'd probably confiscate your phone, like your parents used to do during your teen years. Jeongguk would probably throw all your stupid little origami birds at you. Would hope you'd get a paper cut.

It'd be deserved, you think.

Jeongguk had wasted his entire Sunday on you as a result of Seokjin's carelessness. You didn't leave until Jimin had taken a nap on the couch at just gone six, your day full of mindless chatter and harmless distractions from Seokjin. It had been nice. Comforting.

And yet when you'd arrived home, a text had been waiting from Seokjin:

heyyy, sorry I had to rush off. didn't wanna wake you. you looked toooo cute. was so nice to see you again.

It's kind of embarrassing, the way your heart seemed to settle at the sight of it; like things were as they should be once more.

You told yourself that Seokjin hadn't meant to upset you. That it was all a big misunderstanding.

He said everything you wanted him to in that message. Said sorry. Maybe he didn't give you an excuse nor an explanation, but he did give you a compliment, and that had you giggling.

Had you thinking that maybe you'd been reactive, and were too highly strung. Perhaps he was never the issue. What if it was you?

Still, it's Jeongguk's message thread you tap through to instead - yeah, just on the subway now! we're still meeting there?

You contemplate whether or not you want to tell him that you've spoken to Seokjin later. He'll no doubt ask about him, with a sneer on his lips, nose upturned at the mere thought of him.

And so naturally, you know you'll lie. "No. Not heard from him."

It's not that you want to be dishonest. Not in the slightest.

You're no stranger to a white lie or two, but Jeongguk had scooped up all of your broken pieces in the early hours of yesterday morning, and tried to washi tape them back together - only for you to run straight back to the person holding a sledgehammer.

You don't want to be reckless with the care Jeongguk's afforded to you; it's just that while Jin's got a sledgehammer in one hand, it also looks like he's got super glue in the other. It's a little bit stronger than washi tape.

Especially Jeongguk's rolls of washi tape; which are the entire reason why you're spending your day off on the subway, and not tucked up in bed, instead.

Jeongguk had devised a plan following the fall of your origami bird, but had neglected to tell you exactly what that plan was.

Had said "look, I won't lie - I can't help you with this. Gimmie the evening to think of a plan, though? I'll text you later."

He'd texted you an address by the time you'd arrived home. Told you not to search it up; said he'd meet you there at midday. Kind of felt like a challenge, and you don't like losing - so you'd done as he'd said. Other than putting the address into Naver maps to find the route, you were none the wiser as to where you were headed.

The subway leads you to the outskirts of town. Down by the river, just a little further up from the arboretum you always tell yourself you should visit more often. You're local to the city, but it's so vast that there are still areas you aren't too familiar with. This is one of them. You know what's in the general area - the arboretum, an old water park, and some museums, but you've no idea what the exact address could be.

As you climb the stairs, you're regretful of the fact you actually listened to Jeongguk. Should have looked up the address beforehand. Seen what was about; what dress code would have been appropriate.

Denim shorts hug your curves, and a little white blouse sits prettily on your shoulders. You're making the most of the summer while it lasts; skin exposed, despite the judgement thrown your way by the ajummas you pass on the street.

A mirror selfie had been sent to Seokjin before you'd left the house, in reply to his collarbone-wielding, broad shoulder-baring bed selfie. His hair had been messy, and there was a little pink mark on his neck. You're pretty sure you left it there. Didn't wanna focus on it for too long just in case you realised that you... didn't.

There had been a little tactful positioning of your phone in front of your face when you took your photo. Had been covering your eyes. Hiding the glitter.

And it's funny, 'cause it's the first thing that Jeongguk notices when he spots you.

You're looking around, realising exactly where you are, a frown slowly forming. He'd expected nothing less. You always arrive with a small frown whenever he's around - but he also always manages to get you beaming, too. It's part of the charm that comes with being around Jeongguk. Bad moods dissolve into nothingness.

He smiles, just like he always does. Waves. Throws you not one, but two peace signs. His thin lips plumpen into a pout as he wiggles his shoulders, the ease of acting childishly coming naturally when he's around you.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He glows as if he hadn't seen you less than twenty-four hours ago.

Strolling towards you, he ignores the slight scowl that's resting on your neat brows. Just continues smiling. All doe-eyed and dainty. Hopes you won't be able to resist breaking into a smile, too.

He likes your glitter today. It's just in the corners of your eyes. Thinks you look like a fairy.

"I'm wearing white!" is all you can say, a little exasperation clouding your words, before laughter begins to tumble from your lips whether you want it to or not. "You asshole! You should have warned me!"

Jeongguk's wearing all black. A pair of shorts, a long sleeve swimming shirt and one of his many oversized black t-shirts over the top. See, he's dressed according to his plans - the plans that he neglected to share with you.

But he's a man. How much can you really expect from him? You doubt he's ever had to run home in the middle of a thunderstorm with his arms crossed over his chest to protect his modesty. Doubt his eyes have ever felt the unwelcome intrusion of sodden mascara running into them.

"Oh, chill out, Disco Ball," he banters, rolling his eyes as he twiddles his lip ring with his tongue. He comes to a stop in front of you. Pouts. Pushes his lips to the side, and his cheek slowly rises like a freshly baked loaf of bread. "It's only a little water. Worst comes to the worst, we'll just buy you another shirt."

When Jeongguk says it's only a 'little water,' he's telling a big fat lie.

You're both well aware that 'little' is hardly the appropriate word to use.

Not when you're standing next to the entrance of the largest outdoor waterpark in the city.

You don't want to say definitively, but you think it might be the largest waterpark in the entire district. Biggest you've ever been to, that's for sure, not that you really make a habit of it.

"Look," he says. "You're the one who wrote the bird, not me. Blame yourself."

"And you're the one who didn't give me a dress code," you reply with a small scoff. He's unbelievable.

It's not like he was ever supposed to see your birds. Your intention had only ever been for the pair of you to vent out your frustration; to see them in black and white and maybe colour them in.

"You could have just looked at Naver. Seen where you were going."

"You told me not to!"

Jeongguk smirks to himself, a little pleased with how much you seem to have blindly trusted him. He also thinks it's incredibly foolish, and adds it to his list of things he needs to worry about in the future. While it's him that you're mindlessly following the orders of, it's okay, he supposes. Knows you're safe. Nothing to worry about right now.

"You'll be fine, Byeol," he says, hooking an arm around your neck, rubbing his knuckles against the crown of your head. You don't even bother to scramble away, sensing his grip tighten when your back edges out from his grasp. With arms like his, you're ensnared whether you like it or not. "You bring your bird?"

He keeps his arm locked around your neck, resting on your shoulders, but stands a little straighter as you head in direction of the waterpark. His relaxed posture allows you to rummage around in your tote bag for the small piece of folded paper. It's in the bottom, a little crumpled, but still quite clearly in bird form.

Jeongguk pinches it from you as soon as you retrieve it, not seeming to care much for the fact that it's your bird. You're locked in by his arms as he strengthens some of the creases that have fallen lax thanks to the lack of attention you'd been paying when you tossed it into the bag.

"You're gonna give yourself bad bird luck," he tells you. "Gotta preserve them, Byeol, or otherwise you'll never overcome your fears."

"I'm not really sure we'll be overcoming any fears today," you mutter in response.

He takes great offence to this. Tells you to 'stop being a negative Nancy', and that 'you'll never overcome your fears with an attitude like that'. You pinch him through his shirt. He recoils away from you, finally giving you a little room to breathe.

And then he calls you a goblin.

"That's rich," you snort, peering into your bag once again to get your wallet, shooing his hands away as he brings out his own wallet from his shorts pocket. "Nah, this is on me. My fear. I'll pay."

There's an attempt from him to protest, but you just tell the cashier you're paying for two, and there's very little he can do about it. He feels bad. This is, after all, his idea. He gave you no wiggle room. You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him.

A bathroom? Maybe.

But not here.

"Absolutely not," you had exclaimed yesterday afternoon after reading the bird. Jeongguk couldn't stop laughing. "Stop! You'll give me a complex."

He hadn't meant to find it so funny - he was just taken by surprise. It's a reflex.

"No, no," he cooed. "It's cute. Really sweet, actually. Should have told me last night. Could have actually done something about it."

It was at that point that you flicked him on the forehead. Told him to go touch some grass. Get his head out of his ass.

And then, finally, you told him, "You're never showering with me."

In typical Jeongguk fashion, he'd just smirked. Found your defensiveness funny. "And nor is anyone else, apparently."

The bird resting on Jeongguk's stomach was laying flat, open on your words:

SHOWER WITH SOMEONE ELSE.

He thinks it's the all caps that cracked him up so much. So aggressive. So cute. A bit like you.

Showers had been one of your favourite forms of intimacy during past relationships. You'd even found it fun with casual hookups.

But now?

Feels forbidden. Tarnished. Dirty.

It's almost as if someone else running their hands over your skin beneath the water will rid you of the stain that Seokjin left - and if you're not his, whose are you?

It's stupid because you don't belong to anyone but yourself. You'd spent months resenting the removal of your identity, but now that you have the chance to reclaim it, you're still letting his mark remain.

You had told Jeongguk later that afternoon - with absolute certainty - that he'd never be facing that fear with you, only for him to say, "it doesn't have to be that big of a deal. I'll prove it to you."

And now he's trying to do exactly that.

He leads as you follow and make your way into the park. It's been a fair few years since your last visit, but it always looks the same; paint work a little tatty, white watermarks tarnishing pipes, and slightly dated equipment available for hire. In fact, you think the inflatables sitting pretty and ready for renting might be the same ones you used as a child on family trips.

"Still don't understand how on earth this is supposed to help me with my fear of intimacy," you speak softly once Jeongguk is done telling you about the tallest waterslide in the world. It's in Brazil, and he insists that he doesn't understand why on earth they called it Kilimanjaro when it's not even remotely close in height nor geographical location.

You tell him he's pedantic and he smiles as if you've just given him a gold star.

"It's helping because we're making it less scary," Jeongguk states all very plainly. Seems simple to him. His logical mind leaps from A to B, while yours is still spiralling round and round like a hula-hoop. "What do you do in the shower?"

"When I'm with someone else?" You raise a brow. "Not sure I want to say it out loud in a kid's waterpark."

"Oh, ew, no, not that part. I mean the basics," he sighs, before choosing just to answer for you. "You get wet. That's the first hurdle."

"Gguk, that's barely even the first meter," you counter. "And after that? There's still a billion hurdles left to jump."

"Well, you have to start somewhere, don't you?" He nudges his shoulder against yours, before spotting the concessions store up ahead. "See. Told you you'd be able to buy a shirt. Here."

He hands you his wallet, only for you to pass it right back.

"It's good, I'll get it."

"I dragged you here."

"And I'm the one who made that stupid bird," you laugh. "It's fine. Tell you what though, if they only have ugly shirts, you're gonna have to get one too. Can't be doing this alone."

"Watcha mean?"

"Well look at you," you shrug, as if it's plainly obvious. "You're in all black and - not that I agree with this, but - I'm sure some people will find you 'okay' looking. You know all the yummy mummies are gonna be swooning over you instead of looking after their kids."

"Swooning?" He grins with a small chortle. "Are you trying to insinuate something, Byeol?"

You gasp, and take a step away from him. "Are you saying I look like a mother?"

This, he decides rather quickly, is dangerous. You almost sound like you're flirting. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it, just that he knows he shouldn't indulge himself and yet-

"Maybe I'm into MILFs."

You've a remarkably good poker face. He can't tell if you're actually annoyed, until you look at him with a small smile. It's hidden by the sultry, tempestuous expression you're throwing his way, but definitely still there.

"So first I'm a mother, and now you wanna fuck me? Well, aren't you full of surprises?"

If there's one thing Jeongguk enjoys, it's a girl who knows how to twist words. Regretfully, it always gets him thinking about other ways they could twist their tongues. The thoughts are unsavoury. Sordid. Lewd.

But you're you.

You're off-limits, and he knows better than to play with fire. He needs to get you wet.

Just, like, not in that way.

"I'll put you under that fountain if you don't stop twisting my words," he asserts as you walk through the park. To your right is a pool, with bright slides twisting in all directions around it. Families play, and laughter prevails. It's nice.

To your left is a row of spouting fountains for kids to run through, water pitter-pattering against the warm concrete floor. They're tall enough that even Jeongguk could stand beneath them without issue. You always think they look like reverse umbrellas; water pouring where protection should be.

Puddles of water interrupt the walkway, but neither of you care all that much.

"Maybe if you got your head out your ass and stopped flirting-"

"Not flirting."

You scoff as sarcasm wraps itself around your words. "Yeah, and I'm a MILF."

He pauses. Stops walking. Laughs.

"Right," Jeongguk says. "That's it."

It's said in a tone so light and airy that you almost don't realise he's wrapping his arms around you with a grip tight enough to crack a rib. Your playful shrieks are ignored by other park visitors, chalked up to you being a pair of young lovers enjoying the frivolity of a waterpark together.

"I'm in white!" is your final cry before he pulls you under the cascade of a fountain with him.

The worst part of it, you think, is how goddamn happy he sounds, laughing at your misery.

"And I told you to stop twisting my words, Byeol," he says like the bastard he is, while you struggle against him again. Finally releasing you, he keeps a clasp on your wrists to prevent you from straying. "You made your choice."

"I made no such thing," you wail, but the stream of water has you spluttering - and then you're laughing.

Laughing just like he is; like how you imagine Galileo would have laughed when he first pointed his telescope skyward, and saw the rings of Saturn. It's unadulterated. Blissful. Pure.

Jeongguk loosens his grip on your wrists. He rests his elbows on your shoulders, using his hands to create a barrier between the stream of water and your eyes. There's glitter on your cheeks, now, forced to part way with your eyes thanks to the water pressure, and Jeongguk finds himself grinning at how you manage to look like a party even in the middle of the day.

Perhaps he's a lot more like Galileo than you first thought. Maybe he's laughing because he's looking at the stars, too.

Water barrels down on the pair of you, soaking your hair, your clothes, your skin. It's heavy, the pressure of the fountain far heavier than a shower, but you suppose the outcome is the same.

You don't want to look at Jeongguk with anything but moderate vexation, and yet there's a fond smile tugging at your lips.

Strands of wet hair stick to his face, droplets catching on his lashes and falling down his cheeks. He shakes like a dog caught out in the rain, only to continue getting drenched because he doesn't move from the fountains trajectory. It'd be so easy for him to just manoeuvre himself out of the fountain's direct line and hold you in place, but he chooses to be caught up in it, too. Chooses to be with you. Experience with you.

You'd done his bird together. Only fair for him to do yours with you.

"You still scared, Byeol?" Jeongguk asks, voice quiet beneath the water pummeling down on you both, and yet it has your attention loud and clear.

You want to banter back, say something that will get tripping on his words just like you seem to be - but the rope tied around your ankles seems to be around your tongue, too. Instead, you just shake your head.

"See," he smiles, now. Pulls a hand away from your forehead to wipe at his. Puts it back. "Are showers really that scary?"

And then you do laugh. "It's not a shower. You know it isn't even close."

His face scrunches, water catching in all of his little ridges.

He'll admit the water is annoying. Keeps having to close his eyes. It's bothersome, and it's not like he even cares for boundaries anymore at this point, so-

Fuck it.

His pinkies are against your forehead, index fingers outward. He lowers his head, mirroring you. Rests his forehead against his index fingers. Swears. Can finally fucking see.

And now that he can?

He's looking at you.

With his head angled to such a degree that your chins couldn't be further apart, you still manage to fool yourself to believe that your lashes could brush.

"It's as close as we'll get to one," he counters. "You are showering with another person."

"I'm under a stream of water with another person."

"And how is that any different to showering with someone?"

He isn't stupid. He knows the answer. Knows that you're pedantic enough to go into all the clauses and stipulations that would ever stop this from being classed as a shower - and so he doesn't let you.

Instead, he pulls away, grabbing your wrist as he does so. Leads you further into the park with a smile so big you're surprised he doesn't dislocate his jaw.

"That's the hard part done," he assures you. "You've had a shower with someone. Say thank you."

There's an acute awareness between you both that he's not helped you to overcome your fear in the slightest - but he does have you laughing as you walk through the park, absolutely sodden, without a single care in the world. You're not even bothered by the fact your black bra is visible through the soaked fabric of your shirt.

See, Jeongguk's gotten you relaxed in a situation when you know you'd typically be frantic. He's taking the pressure off. Got you giggling. Got you facing a fear, even if it's not exactly how he set out to do so, nor the fear in question.

In his defence, he really had thought his contrived little plan would count. He'd have never insisted on actually taking a shower with you. He understands why you consider them so intimate. He does, too. Something about the vulnerability really gets him. It's not even the sex that inevitably comes with one that makes him weak at the knees.

He thinks of the girl who folded paper butterflies for him, and how he'd shampoo her hair, chest pressed to her back, and the fact it was in the confines of his bathroom that he realised he was in love with her.

So, Jeongguk gets it. It's why he wouldn't even consider anything but his dumb little waterpark shower as a remedy of your insecurities. He hopes a lesson is learned even if a fear isn't overcome: you can let down your guard without giving up all of you.

What it comes down to, you think, is that Jeongguk isn't a taker. He's not a giver, either, really - but when your walls start to crack and crumble, he doesn't intrude. Stands at a safe distance. Offer you back your bricks. Most men you knew would see a weakness in your defences and claim what's yours as their own.

He's not always been this way. Used to have a 'what's yours is mine' understanding of his relationships, too.

His butterfly girl had taught him that no, just because he was given temporary access to something didn't mean it was his. He'd learnt the hard way after he'd always swapped his heart with hers, not realising she'd ever want it back.

And so while Jeongguk will never fully understand whatever you went through - not unless you choose to share it with him - he can empathise. Treat you how he wished someone would have treated him while he was still healing.

As the clouds migrate across the sky, fluffy white shapes occasionally hiding the careful watch of the sun, the day rolls into stupid competitions and races down the tallest slides in the park. The reason you'd ended up here doesn't seem to matter.

Jeongguk races you to the top of the slides again, and again, and again, just to try and beat you down them. He never wins.

Not until you hold back by just a millisecond.

It's just enough to give him a slight edge, and have him roaring in victory - "ha! suck it! loser!" - as he slaps at the water, a smile larger than Hang Sơn Đoòng eclipsing any desire you had to win. You'll let him have this one. Let him have one victory.

The haze of late-afternoon sun grazes down on the pair of you, while you lounge by the 'adults-only' pool area. A lot of families have gone home already, but sometimes it's nice to be away from the shrieks of kids messing about in the water.

You're not exactly the maternal type. In fact, Jeongguk's the one who's been pointing out how cute the kids are in their little armbands and sprout hairstyles. He's not wrong. They're incredibly adorable - you're just not that naturally inclined to go 'awww'.

It's all swings and roundabouts, though. Getting away from kids meant being surrounded by, well, some less wholesome auras.

Jeongguk thinks he notices it first; the unwelcome gaze of a middle-aged man. He's felt it for a little while. Upwards of ten minutes. Thinks you're none the wiser. Tries to figure out what's so fucking interesting. Stares him out a little bit - but is ignored.

See, the man - who is probably old enough to be your father - isn't looking at Jeongguk at all. Too busy staring at you, and that shirt of yours which is still yet to dry out. You're on your back, sunning yourself, clothes sodden and sticking to your skin.

Jeongguk thinks you look no different to anyone else in the park. It's typical to wear regular clothes in places like these. Would be more shocking if you were in a bikini. And so while yes, he has noticed the fact your bra is dark, he couldn't tell you the colour because he's been trying not to look. Actively avoiding it, actually.

Annoyance isn't something that Jeongguk's ever been able to hide well.

As he sucks in a little bit of air between his teeth and mutters a small curse to himself, you glance over.

"Hmm?" you ask.

It's not like you don't know the man's staring. You had warned Jeongguk about your attire earlier. Was always gonna happen. He just hadn't realised that this was the reason why you'd been so insistent about the fact he was an asshole for not giving you a dress code.

Realistically, you could have bought a second shirt - but the pair of you got distracted. Didn't care so much when you were laughing and joking about how you both look like rats with your hair all wet.

"Here," he says, tugging on his shirt at the nape of his neck. There's resistance, the weight of the water dragging against his skin, but he pays it no mind as he pulls the shirt over his head. You're still laying down on your back, and turn onto your front with a small grin.

"Y'know if I really was all that bothered, I'd just do this," you say, talking about your change in position. It's not that you want the man to stare - you just know he will regardless. Know that your shorts have ridden up a little, and so he's getting a whole new type of show.

Jeongguk doesn't laugh. Smiles, but doesn't let it reach his eyes. Leans over and drapes the fabric of his shirt over the top of your legs. Over your ass. "You'll burn."

"I'm wearing suncream," you purr, knowing that this has nothing to do with keeping your skin safe.

And so Jeongguk just shrugs. Considers staying silent. Chooses not to.

"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he almost growls beneath his breath, feigning indifference through his body language. "But I don't."

"You saying you can't help yourself?" You tease, to which he just rolls his eyes and lays back down.

"I can help myself perfectly well," he says, tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek. "Just didn't finish my sentence."

"Oh?" you chirp with great curiosity.

There's a boldness to the way you're engaging in conversation with him. Makes you realise that Jeongguk is just the same as any other boy. He can see you as a sexual object, apparently. Just chooses not to. It's all very interesting.

"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he repeats, crossing his arms over his torso, a defensiveness to his posture, even when he's flat on his back. "But I don't want him to."

Though his eyes remain closed, Jeongguk can hear you move to sit on your knees.

Your back is to the sleazebag, Jeongguk shirt bunching by your heels. You pull it around and bundle it in your lap, mouth resting open in a slight stare of shock.

Unspoken words beg for him to look at you.

But he doesn't. Keeps his eyes firmly shut. Grins. Just says, "Lie back down, Byeol."

The worst part is that you want to. You really do. When his voice is that low, the look on his face that cocky, you want to fold like a sheet of fucking origami paper. Have him bending you about like one of those damn birds.

But then you take a second to think, and realise you're no better than that guy who is still staring at you so intensely you're surprised he doesn't burst a blood vessel. Makes you feel bad. Guilty.

So instead you toss Jeongguk his shirt back and, as you stand, say, "I've a fear of intimacy, Jeongguk. No fear in telling men to fuck off."

He's not surprised by your response. Quite amused by it. Sits up on his elbows. Watches with curiosity as you walk away from him - and then is stunned to see you beeline for the man.

It's the kind of thing he'd see in a movie, background characters slowing to a stop, time ceasing to move except for the leading lady.

And then you're pointing. Accusing. Jeongguk's not sure of what - he can't hear you from this far away - but he knows it isn't nice. Watches the blood drain from the man's face. He's ghostly. And then it all returns, red and raw, with such a vengeance he's surprised blood doesn't start leaking from his nose.

When you turn on your heel, Jeongguk observes with morbid novelty at the scene unfolding; the intense shame on the man's face and the pure brilliance on yours.

"Men," you sigh, as you sit back down next to him. Mirroring his position, you're up on your elbows until you casually let yourself fall back into your original position. "Sorry, where were we? You told me to lie down? Done."

Jeongguk doesn't say anything. Just grins. Collapses back down, too. Doesn't tell you to cover up. Knows better.

Doesn't shut up about it for the rest of the day, though.

Relays the story to you as if you weren't there - weren't central to it - with so much animation that you think he might turn into a cartoon on the subway home.

He's still talking about it between the part where he invites you back for dinner - "Jimin's gonna be in but it's cool. We haven't eaten all day, you must be starving." - and the part where he stands by your door, taking a whole twenty minutes to say goodbye.

You've declined the offer. Told him it'd be a bit weird seeing Jimin. Wouldn't know how to explain it. Jeongguk just says "of course, yeah, you're right. Didn't even think of that. My bad."

There's a little silence afterwards. You know why. It's rejection. Not romantic, nor for anything serious, but it's still the same difference. He'd spent the day trying to help you break down walls only for you to put your bricks on top of his.

It's as he's heading down your stairs (after his fifteenth and final 'bye') that you realise how rude you've been. Just 'cause you wouldn't feel entirely welcome at his doesn't mean he's not welcome at yours.

"Hey, wait a sec! Danbi's home, but do you wanna eat here?" You chance. "We don't have much in, but I can order or we can-"

"My God, I thought you'd never ask," he grins immediately turning on his heel and back towards you. "So hungry I might die."

"You won't."

"I could."

The pair of you bicker as you enter your apartment, Danbi glancing up from the sofa. She looks at you, then looks at Jeongguk, and takes a second to place his face. Definitely knows it - and then it clicks.

She considers asking why the fuck your favourite barman is following you in. He's known within the confines of your apartment as the Barman That Smiles (more commonly referred to as BTS boy), Jeongguk's name a secret just for you to know. Danbi doesn't realise all of those nights you waste are the bar are wasted on him, nor does she realise he's the reason you snuck off the other night.

What she does wonder, however, is if this is all part of your master-get-revenge-on-Seokjin-plan.

Instead of voicing any of these queries, she settles on "what are we having for dinner?"

You shrug. "Ask Jeongguk. He's paying."

He raises a brow as if to question your assertion - only for him to cough up the bill for the pizza delivery that feeds the three of you through a Deadpool rewatch.

When he leaves, Danbi tells him he has to come back next week for Deadpool 2. You grin as you walk him out.

"She just wants you to pay for more food," you tell and he nods. Says he knows.

But then he calls back over to Danbi, "See you next week."

She does a little cheer, and it's all very sweet. They get on well. His humour is welcome in your apartment, and so is his presence. Danbi also hopes it means she'll get more free drinks next time she's at the club.

"She'll play you like a damn fiddle if you let her," you warn just out of her earshot.

"Good," he grins. "We can double date with you and Jimin."

You tell him to fuck off - but also insist that he lets you know when he gets home. The way you care about him is so casual that it feels as if it's been this way for years.

As he heads on home, Jeongguk kind of hopes it will be. Hopes it's the kind of friendship that stands the test of time. Worries that he shouldn't take the flirting too far - but then he's distracted by the little fleck of glitter on the top of his hand. His thoughts are lost, a smile unwinding on his lips as he strolls back to his place.

The skies are void of stars tonight, and yet, for the first time in months, Jeongguk's eyes are full of them.

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#by holly #jk #jeongguk fanfic #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #jeongguk fic #bartender!jungkook #BD #bad decisions #bangtan #bts fanfic #dappleddaisies

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50calmadeuce · 7 months

Text

Ch. 10: Texas Memories

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Before:

Leaning against some pillows on Jake's bedroom at his parent's place, you tapped the answer button on the iPad, and immediately, an image of Jake, shirtless and with his dog tags hanging between his defined pectoral muscles, appeared on your screen.

"Hey, darlin'," he greeted.

"This is certainly a pleasant surprise. What's the occasion for this view?" you inquired.

"Just calling to give you a heads up on my next duty station."

It had been six weeks since Jake had departed from his family's home in Texas, while you remained there for a class.

"And?" you inquired, full of anticipation.

"I'm being assigned to Kingsville, Texas."

"Jake! That's fantastic! Your mom's going to be thrilled!"

"And what about you?"

"Jake, I wrap up this class in a few days, then I was offered a study in Wyoming, and then it's back to Wisconsin for me."

"Why don't you stay at my parents' place?"

You gave him a look. "Because we've been over this. The University of Madison has the best veterinary college in Wisconsin."

"Why not transfer to A&M?"

"Because a lot of my college credits won't transfer, that's why. Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No, I'm good."

Believing in his words, you chose to steer the conversation elsewhere. "So, how's the training going?"

"Good. I'm at the top of my class."

"Jake! That's fantastic! Have you made up your mind about what you want to fly?"

"I'm leaning towards the F-18 Super Hornet."

"That's a…?"

"It's a fighter jet."

"Oh," you respond quietly.

"Y/N, you knew flying was my goal."

"I did, but being a fighter pilot hadn't crossed my mind." You took a deep breath. "But if that's what you want, then go for it."

"How's school going?"

Glancing over on the bed, you caught sight of the white plastic pregnancy test that you had taken just minutes before, nervously twisting it in your hands as you awaited the results.

"It's going good. I'm finishing up this really interesting bioscience study."

"And that's what?"

"It's devoted to animal and human wellbeing and understanding to prevent and treat disease."

"Yeah. I've got nothing."

You let out a nervous laugh, your gaze fixed on the pregnancy test which now displayed the results. "Jake, there's something I need to tell you," you said, your tone shifting to a more serious note, and he could tell something was up.

Jake's attention snapped to you, his expression immediately shifting from casual to intensely focused, a trace of concern etching his features. He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for a hint of what was about to come. "What's going on? Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry yet trying to remain calm for your sake.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you held up the pregnancy test to the camera so he could see the positive result. The silence that followed was heavy with anticipation, as you watched for his reaction, unsure of what to expect but hoping for his support.

After a moment that felt much longer than it actually was, Jake's face transformed from concern to a mixture of surprise and joy. "Is this…? Are we…?" He couldn't seem to find the right words, his usual eloquence replaced by a rare loss for words.

You nodded, a small smile breaking through your nervousness. "Yes, we're going to have a baby."

"OMG!" Jake exclaimed as you watched him jump up and down excitedly on your iPad.

Jake's excitement was palpable even through the digital screen, his joy transcending the distance between you. He stopped jumping and leaned closer to the iPad, his face filling the screen. "This is the best news ever, Y/N! I can't believe we're going to have a baby!"

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. It was a relief to see him so happy, and it made the moment even more special, sharing it together even if it was through a screen.

"I wish I could be there with you right now," Jake said, his voice softening, a hint of longing in his eyes. "To hold you, to celebrate together... But we'll make up for it, I promise."

You reached out, touching the screen where his face was, wishing for the umpteenth time that he was there with you. "I know, Jake. It's okay. Just having you here with me like this means everything. And knowing you're just as excited about our baby makes this moment perfect."

Jake placed his hand against the screen, mirroring your action, creating a moment of connection despite the physical distance. "As soon as I can, I'll be there with you. We have so much to look forward to, Y/N. You, me, and our little one. We're going to be a family, and I'm going to be the best dad ever. Just you wait and see."

The promise in his words filled you with warmth and an unshakeable belief in the future you were building together. "I know you will, Jake. I can't wait for us to start this new chapter together. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N. More than anything." His smile was a beacon of hope, lighting up the path to your shared future, no matter how challenging the journey might be.

Three months later...

Gradually, you opened your eyes, taking a moment to acclimate to the glaring brightness and the persistent beeping that filled the room. The first thing that came into focus was Cindy's face hovering over you.

"Y/N, how are you feeling?" she inquired, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Where am I?" you managed to ask, feeling the dryness in your throat.

A man dressed in a white doctor's coat turned towards you. "Hello, Y/N. I'm Doctor Buchanan. How are you feeling?"

A dull ache throbbed in your abdomen. "Sore," you replied.

"As you would be after being kicked by a horse," the doctor responded.

You turned to Cindy. "What happened?"

"You were examining a horse during a class, and when you pressed on another sore spot, it kicked," he explained.

Suddenly, the memory of the baby flooded back, and you turned anxiously to the doctor. "The baby. What about the baby?"

"Y/N, I'm sorry," the doctor said gently. "The kick led to a miscarriage. But everything else seems to be okay, which means you can try again in the future."

Feeling a profound sense of loss, you sank back into the pillows, the tears beginning to flow unchecked.

Cindy gave the doctor a nod. "Thank you, Doctor."

Observing your tears, the doctor offered a sympathetic look. "I'll come back later," he said, before exiting the room.

Turning her focus to you, Cindy's expression was one of concern. "Y/N, why didn't you tell us?"

"I only found out a few months ago and had just told Jake. We wanted to make sure first and he wanted it to be a surprise for you all," you explained, your voice laden with emotion. "Where's Jake?"

"He's on his way home. He managed to catch a flight about an hour ago."

"Does he know about the baby?"

"No, I just found out myself," she replied softly.

"He's going to be devastated," you remarked, your voice slightly cracking.

Cindy continued to remove pieces of hair that had fallen onto your face. "He will be, but I'm sure he'll manage."

You turned to Cindy. "The house isn't even done being built yet. Until then, I can't go home."

"You'll stay with us. You don't need to worry."

"But I was supposed to go back before."

"It'll be okay. Do you want some water?"

"I'd love a sip."

Cindy extended her hand, picked up a cup filled with ice chips, and gently placed one in your mouth. Just then, her phone chimed. She reached for it and glanced at the screen. "Glen has just picked up Jake from the airport. They're on their way here now," she informed you, her voice a mix of relief and apprehension at the impending reunion. "You get some sleep, okay? I'll be right here."

You offered a weak nod, feeling the weight of your eyelids become too much to resist. As sleep began to envelop you, the events of the day seemed to drift away into the distance.

As you stirred from your sleep, you felt a gentle kiss pressed against your forehead and the comforting warmth of a hand holding yours.

Blinking your eyes open, you found yourself gazing into a pair of green eyes filled with concern and upset, silently conveying a depth of emotion that words couldn't capture.

"Jake," you whispered softly.

"Hey, darlin'," he replied, his voice tender. He then leaned in to gently kiss your lips, offering a moment of comfort amidst the turmoil. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore, but okay," you responded, trying to muster a reassuring tone.

Jake's gaze lingered on you, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "And the baby?"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as the weight of the news you had to share pressed down on you. "Jake… I'm so sorry," you managed to say, your voice breaking with emotion.

Jake tenderly cupped your cheek with his hand, his touch a source of comfort. "Darlin', it's okay. You're okay, and that's what's most important," he reassured you, his voice steady and full of unwavering support.

"I just want to go home," you murmured, longing for the comfort of familiar surroundings.

Jake gave you a look of understanding, his resolve clear. "I'll see what I can do," he promised, ready to take action on your behalf.

Several hours later, with gentle care, Jake assisted you into his parents' house and then into his own bed within his bedroom, ensuring your comfort and safety every step of the way.

You pulled the comforter over yourself, adjusting the soft fabric around you to make yourself as comfortable as possible in the cozy surroundings.

Jake leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. "Get some rest, darlin'," he whispered, offering a moment of solace and care.

"Jake. Lay with me," you requested, your voice carrying a longing for his presence beside you.

Jake quickly stripped down to his boxers, his dog tags clinking softly as they settled between his chest muscles, and then he carefully climbed into bed beside you. Gently, he wrapped an arm around you, his concern evident in his voice. "This doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked, making sure his embrace was comforting rather than painful.

"No," you replied, finding solace in his proximity as you snuggled closer to him. "I've missed you, Jake."

"I know, darlin'," he responded, his voice carrying a note of solemn understanding. "Maybe you should quit school and come with me," Jake repeated, his suggestion hanging in the air between you.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you turned to face him more directly. "What?"

"Quit school and come with me," he said again, his proposal clear and earnest.

"No, Jake. Why would I do that? I have an opportunity to go back to Wyoming and examine some cattle there during the summer," you responded, emphasizing the importance of your career and the opportunities ahead of you. Your tone conveyed both surprise and a gentle reminder of your commitment to your own path.

"I just thought it might be safer," Jake explained, trying to justify his suggestion.

"Safer for who? Me or for you?" you asked, seeking clarity on his motivations.

"Y/N, just calm down. It was only a suggestion," Jake attempted to soothe the rising tension.

"No, Jake. It wasn't just a suggestion. I know you," you countered, implying there was more beneath the surface of his proposal, highlighting the depth of understanding between you two and the complexity of the decision at hand. "Then you quit being a pilot."

His eyes widened at your response. "No," he stated firmly, then took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Y/N, you're supposed to be relaxing," he reminded, his tone softening, indicating his concern for your wellbeing amidst the emotional exchange.

Feeling the weight of the moment, you turned back around and nestled yourself deeper into the blankets, seeking comfort in their warmth and the familiar surroundings, allowing the tension to ebb away as you focused on resting and healing. You felt Jake let out a sigh beside you, a sound that carried a mix of frustration and resignation.

As you woke the next morning, the bed beside you was notably empty. Your gaze swept the room, a silent query to the whereabouts of Jake. Then, the inviting aroma of breakfast wafted through the air, drawing your attention and stirring a gentle hunger. With careful movements, mindful of your recent physical and emotional strains, you eased out of bed, and headed towards the kitchen where Cindy stood at the stove.

"Morning, Y/N. How are you feeling?" Cindy inquired with a warm tone as you entered the kitchen.

"Still a bit sore. Have you seen Jake?" you asked, hoping to find him nearby.

Cindy looked at you, a hint of surprise in her expression. "He left early this morning," she informed you, not expecting your reaction.

Your eyes widened in disbelief and concern. "He did what?" The news of his unexpected departure caught you off guard, stirring a mix of emotions and questions about the reasons behind his sudden exit.

Confused, Cindy looked at you. "He said he told you."

Seeing the confusion on Cindy's face, you quickly explained, "He didn't tell me anything about leaving."

Concerned and eager for answers, you excused yourself and made your way back to the bedroom, where your cellphone had been left untouched since the night before. With a sense of urgency, you picked up the device and scrolled through to find Jake's number. Once located, you dialed his number, each ring echoing your growing apprehension and the need for clarity on his sudden departure.

As the call went to voicemail, a sigh escaped your lips, disappointment mingling with concern. "Jake, it's me. Where are you? Call me back," you spoke into the phone, your voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of worry. After hanging up, you returned to the kitchen, trying to mask your unease.

Cindy glanced up as you entered, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Any response?" she asked, hoping for some good news.

"Nothing," you replied, a hint of frustration in your voice as you placed your cellphone on the table. Cindy, sensing your distress, gently set a plate of food in front of you, perhaps hoping that the gesture might offer a small comfort amidst the morning's unsettling start.

As you settled into the comforting embrace of the outdoor papasan chair, wrapped in the warmth of a blanket with a book in hand, the sudden ring of your cellphone broke the tranquil morning silence. Seeing Jake's face flash on the screen, a rush of mixed emotions flooded through you.

"Jake! Where are you?" you answered, your voice a blend of relief and urgency, eager to finally hear his voice and understand the reason behind his unexpected departure.

Jake's voice came through, clear yet tinged with a seriousness that immediately set you on edge. "I'm back at the base."

The simplicity of his statement did little to soothe the whirlwind of questions in your mind. "Why didn't you tell me you had to go back?"

His response was unexpected, causing a deeper furrow in your confusion. "I didn't because I didn't have to. I made the decision."

Confusion swept over your face, a tangible reflection of the turmoil inside. "I don't understand." The words slipped out, a verbal embodiment of your attempt to grasp the situation. His decision, made without warning or explanation, left you searching for clarity amidst the sudden shift in your shared reality.

The conversation took a sharp, abrupt turn as Jake spoke again, his voice carrying a weight that suggested an underlying urgency or perhaps a discomfort with the conversation. "Look. I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

The quickness of his departure from the call didn't escape you, nor did the subtle hint of hurt in his voice, a detail that tugged at your heart. With a mixture of frustration and sadness, you found yourself responding almost instinctively, voicing the thought that had been gnawing at the back of your mind since his suggestion the night before. "It's because I won't quit, isn't it Jake?"

The words hung in the air, a silent plea for understanding, for a deeper explanation that might bridge the growing gap between you. The connection was severed before you could explore further. As the call ended, the arm holding your cellphone dropped to your lap, the device now a heavy weight carrying the silence of the unresolved conversation. The moment was a mix of disbelief and sorrow, a mental scramble to piece together the sudden shift in your relationship dynamics.

Cindy, sensing the change in atmosphere, chose that moment to walk out the back door. Her presence, always a comforting constant, felt especially needed now. Noticing your distress, she approached with a blend of concern and motherly intuition.

"Y/N. You okay?" Her voice was gentle, an anchor in the storm of emotions you found yourself adrift in.

"I'm okay. I was just on the phone with Jake."

"What did he say?"

You shrugged. "Nothing really. He's upset I won't quit my schooling because of the loss of the baby."

Cindy's expression softened with understanding, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and empathy. "Y/N. I'm so sorry. Jake can be…" She paused, seemingly searching for the right words, understanding the complexity of emotions involved.

You interrupted her, not wanting to place blame or dwell on the negative. "No. It's okay. I leave for Wyoming next week." Your voice carried a determination, a clear indication that despite the emotional turmoil, you were set on moving forward with your plans and commitments.

Cindy nodded, respecting your decision. "Well, I just want you to know that we're here for you, no matter what. And if you need anything while you're in Wyoming, you just let us know."

"I will. Thank you."

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