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traveler-at-heart · 2 months

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Brave

Summary: The sudden loss of someone in your family leaves you broken. Natasha tries to help.

A/N: Special thanks to @happychopshoppenguin for helping me to sort out ideas for this plot.

It was a regular day for the Avengers.

Mission, explosions, fighting some bad guys and then fly back in the Quinjet.

“Fury’s gonna be mad” Clint taunts, looking at you.

“He didn’t say how to stop them from sharing the drive with the Chinese” you smile, thinking that blowing up their entire control room was a bit much. But, you were in a hurry to finish the mission and go home.

Clint rolls his eyes and steers the Quinjet.

“Alright, it’s gonna be at least seven hours. Go get some sleep, dynamite. Tasha, you ok?”

Natasha had been quiet, which was nothing new around you. To most people, it was probably the contrast in personalities; while the Russian was reserved, you were very outgoing.

You’d hope it was just that, and not that she disliked you. After a few attempts at conversation that turned cold, you decided to be cordial, but give her space.

Right now, she’s sitting in the back of the Quinjet, no visible injuries. But still, her hand is over her ribs, and she seems to be deep in thought.

You know what’s happening and that she’d never ask for help.

“Do you need to clean any wounds? I’ll take over the Quinjet while you do” you offer to Clint and he shakes his head no. Walking to the first aid kit, you pull out a bottle of water, painkillers and a pack of ice. You’re about to walk to sit next to Natasha, when you bring a hand to your forehead.

“Great. Blood and sooth. I must stink” placing the first aid stuff next to her, you mumble to yourself about taking a quick shower.

By the time you come out, Natasha has already taken a pill, and has the ice pack over her bruised ribs. Her eyes are closed, and much as you’d like to stare, you go sit next to Clint, hoping to get home soon.

—

Maria is waiting on the hangar when you land.

“Told ya” Clint mocks and you turn to glare at him.

“Did you snitch on me, Barton?”

“Y/N” Maria says, and her tone alone erases your smile.

“What’s wrong?” you say, going over every possible scenario. This is your last mission before a two week break to go back home. “Is it…?”

Your mom was supposed to have surgery. But she was fine. It couldn’t be…

“I’m sorry”

It’s as if a bucket of ice cold water was poured over your head. Your hands are so numb, you can’t feel Natasha taking one of them, her arm around your shoulders.

—

It’s been a week. Natasha tries not to think about you, mainly because there’s nothing she can do to help.

And it’s none of her business when (or if) you come back. Still, she feels a certain heaviness in her movements as she makes her morning coffee.

You always made enough for the two of you. And it tastes so much better than the one Natasha makes.

“Is Y/N around?” Maria walks in, looking for you.

“I thought she was still with her family”

“She came back earlier. It didn’t… it sounded bad. Like a family disagreement had happened on top of everything else” Maria sighs.

“Do you know what it was?”

“All I know is that her mother’s condition had been bad for a while… and then they did emergency surgery but her heart was too weak”

Natasha nods in silence, imagining how hard it must be for you. How your mother always sent something she knitted for everyone on the team on their birthdays, or how your parents would fly to visit at least once a month.

“If you see her, will you let me know? I just want to make sure she’s alright”

“Of course”

—

No one saw you, not even for movie night. It’s not like the team was expecting you, but it was quiet as the movie played on the screen, and only Sam seemed to be paying attention.

Natasha looks at the table in the middle of the room.

You always got her Dr. Pepper. Her guilty pleasure, a little indulgence in her life of strict physical activity and healthy meals.

This time, there’s only beer that no one bothers to drink. A headache threatens to sour her mood even more, but the cupboard with medical supplies is almost empty.

That’s how everything feels without you around.

Natasha had hoped you’d be at the staff meeting next Monday, but everyone took a seat, your chair remained empty.

“We have to do something” Steve says, looking around. His eyes meet Maria’s.

“Well, she’s been going on solo missions”

“And you think that’s a good idea?” Barton challenges, clearly annoyed. Would it be so hard for Fury to give a damn about his team?

“Listen, any one of you is welcomed to join her but I don’t think…”

“I’ll go” Natasha says.

“Good. Maybe she needs some… girl talk” Steve says and everyone laughs for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, we’ll braid our hair while we wait for the bad guys, Steve” Natasha mocks.

“Nice one, Capsicle” Tony says.

Truth be told, Natasha wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction when you saw her at the hangar.

“I’m on solo duty, Natasha” you say without looking at her, getting inside the small aircraft.

“Fury’s orders” the redhead lies, following you. She almost crashes against your back as you stop and turn around.

“If you’re coming, I don’t want to hear any scolding or complains. I’m running this operation”

“That’s fine by me”

Either way, from what she read on the file, it was only information extraction. And yet, you were gone for thirty minutes, after she successfully hacked into the database.

“Where the hell have you been?” Natasha scolds, forgetting about her previous promise.

“Can you get us on the air? I’ll take over in a minute” you answer, your face evidently beaten up, as one of your eyes was starting to swell.

Natasha is torn between concern and anger, but she figures it is better to talk to you once they’re away from the enemy. With a sigh, she starts the engine and sets the coordinates of the Compound.

A spot on the floor catches her eye.

Blood. A lot of it.

“Y/N?” she stands up, looking around. Following the trail of blood, she opens up the door to the small bathroom. She sees you, your uniform torn around your thigh, a gash exposed. “Oh my God!”

“Ever tried knocking?” you say, without looking at her. Next thing you do is use the surgical stapler to close the wound, not caring to use anesthesia.

“You need stitches”

“I’m fine” you stand up, taking off the top of your uniform. Natasha spots bruises that are just starting to heal.

Maybe that’s why the medical supplies were gone the other day.

“Y/N…”

“If you’re not gonna fly, I’m taking over” you walk towards the cabin, and she stands there, looking at all the blood that you left behind.

What the hell is she gonna tell Maria when you come back?

There’s a moment of silence as you land the Quinjet. You hope that Natasha will not even start about your injury, so you wait for her to leave.

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine, Natasha”

“I’m worried” she admits in a low voice, which catches you off guard. You’ve never thought she cared enough, not about you at least.

“I’ll stop going on missions until I’m better”

She wants to tell you it’s not enough, because an injury isn’t the issue here. But Natasha also recognizes when she’s about to cross a boundary.

So, she just nods and leaves the hangar. The feeling of defeat comes with her as you’re left alone on the jet.

—

Another Monday, another staff meeting.

To everyone’s surprise, you’re the last through the door. Steve sits up, but the rest of the team just looks at you, afraid that saying anything else might scare you away.

For your part, you ignore everyone but Natasha, placing a paper bag from her favorite bakery in front of her.

She smiles at you, because it’s something you always do on Monday meetings. This time, you don’t mutter your usual excuse of being around the bakery first thing in the morning. You do give a little smile in return, and Natasha tries to ignore the warm feeling she gets from the gesture.

“Everyone, have a seat” Maria says, trying to pretend she isn’t surprised to see you as well. “We have word of a HYDRA base storing potentially dangerous technology. It’s big enough to send the whole team”

“Surely some of us could stay behind if we’re not up for it” Barton says, avoiding your eyes. He’s the only one that knows about what happened on your mission with Natasha.

“It’s not ideal, but if anyone wants out, speak now. Very well”, she continues after a beat of silence. “Here’s the map of the facility. You leave in an hour”

—

The mission was completed.

Barely.

You’re holding a gauze against your side, to stop the bleeding from a bullet graze. Fury’s been called to go over what happened.

He doesn’t seem pleased.

“You better do something about her” Tony says, his finger pointing at you.

“Stark” Barton warns but you don’t even react to his confrontation.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. If she wants to go and get killed, that’s her deal. But we were just about done with the mission when she decides to fight a dozen HYDRA agents on her own”

“We need to calm down” Steve says.

“No, there was a town a few miles south and HYDRA had nuclear warheads. Have we learned nothing? This could have been catastrophic”

“But it wasn’t, so…”

“If you have some mommy issues to deal with, do it on your free time. I’m not gonna burden myself with civilian deaths over your trauma”

“Tony!” Steve reprimands, standing up. They’re so busy facing each other, they never see you approaching. You throw a punch that hits Stark square in the eye, followed by another one that breaks his nose.

“Say that again, you fucking asshole” you shout, throwing a kick that never lands. It takes Steve and Bucky to hold you back. “Talk shit, Stark, see what happens”

“That’s enough. You’re suspended, effective immediately” Fury says.

“I’ll do you one better. I quit” you push Rogers and Bucky away, not bothering to look at the rest of your teammates.

It’s better this way.

—

It’s not hard to find you. Being a professional spy works in Natasha’s favor, but you’re basically bouncing from your apartment to the bar around the corner.

Sit and drink.

That’s all you do from the moment you walk in, around noon and then you leave past midnight. Before going up your apartment, you stop by the bodega to get another bottle of whatever cheap booze they have and call it a night.

Natasha looks from across the street, debating between going inside and talking to you or just going home.

What can she tell you to make it all better?

That’s the question she asks herself all week, and come Friday Natasha still doesn’t have an answer.

The bar is crowded and the redhead figures it’s safe enough to go inside without being spotted.

You’re in your usual spot, leaning against the bar while sitting on a stool. The loud music and conversations make you dizzy, but you still ask for another scotch and drink half of it in one gulp.

“Are you moving anytime soon?” a twenty something year old pops out of nowhere and you don’t even look his way. “We want to sit at the bar and watch the game, I’m sure you can go be a sad drunk somewhere else”

“Fuck off” you say after finishing your drink and asking for another one. When they give it to you, the idiot knocks it from your hand.

“You have ten seconds to apologize or leave” you rub your temples, thinking how much worse your headache will be after kicking his ass.

“I don’t think so” he says, throwing a punch at you. Even with all you drank, you’re able to avoid his fist, knocking him down in one swift motion.

“Crap” you kinda forgot he was not alone. Three more guys show up, and while you’re busy blocking some kicks, one of them manages to punch you in the face. You fall to the ground, feeling a kick to your side and a fist that connects with your nose.

At this point, you give up, thinking that getting your ass kicked in a bar is just as effective as drinking the day away.

But the next attack never comes. In fact, all three men are down.

“Get up” you hear someone say.

It sounds like Natasha.

You try to stand, but there’s a pain in your side. Before you can collapse on the ground, arms go around your waist and help you stand, walking side by side all the way to your apartment.

The lavender scent and the gentle touch confirms it’s Natasha, and you try not to think about how much you’ve missed her.

The redhead opens the door to your apartment, letting you down on the couch. You grunt as you sit, blood running down your nose and temple.

Yeah, this is going to be the worst hangover of your life.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” Natasha says looking around the place.

You really did miss her and the thought finally breaks you.

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Natasha kneels in front of you the minute you let out a sob, tears mixing with the blood.

“It’s not worth it, Nat. I’m not worth the trouble. You should go” you plead, overwhelmed at the guilt that’s been consuming you for weeks now.

“What are you talking about?”

“She kept asking for me. When they were at the hospital. She wanted to see me, she was scared and in pain and I wasn’t there. My mother died and I didn’t get to say goodbye”

“Y/N…”

“What kind of person does that? How can you fail so badly to the people that loved you?”

“You didn’t fail”

“Yes, I did” you say, struggling to breathe.

“You didn’t. It’s ok” Natasha tries to calm you, her hands going through your hair until your breathing evens out.

The rush of adrenaline leaves your body, and pretty soon, you’re slumped against the couch, Natasha’s hands still in yours.

—

There’s light. And pain.

A different kind than the one you’ve had. As you sit up, you feel your bruised ribs and when you grimace, the split lip reminds you your face didn’t fare any better during your fight.

Natasha…

“How are you feeling?” you turn to find the woman standing in the middle of your kitchen.

“Like shit” you reply and she chuckles.

“There’s some coffee. It’s not as good as the one you make, but it will do. I should go” she sets her cup down, sighing.

“You don’t have to…” you want her to stay. But you don’t know what will happen if you ask her.

“I do, actually” she walks towards the door, but you endure the pain to meet her at the threshold.

“Nat”

“No” she shakes her head, without looking back at you. “You have no idea how hard it is to watch someone you love hurt themselves”

The word love echoes, making you take a step back.

Natasha turns to look at you, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I guess you were bound to find out eventually”

“Natasha” you plead, not knowing what to say.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I won’t go into this when you’re going through hell and all i’ve done is watch you from afar. I guess I just want you to know…” she wipes the tears and looks at you. “You buy my favorite brand of peanut butter. You wake up one hour before I do, but the coffee is done only when I’m up. My water bottle is always full and cold before going to the gym. You charge my phone when I forget to, and when it’s late and I’m still working you stop by and tell me you made too much pasta just so I eat something…. You’re not a bad person. You’re wonderful and I wish I could have told you sooner. I’m sorry” Natasha turns around and leaves.

You don’t stop her this time.

—

It’s been three days and Natasha hasn’t heard from you. To be fair, she said a lot of things and didn’t wait for you to reply, so that might have been a bad idea.

Talking to Clint might be the only solution and she’s looking for him when you leave the conference room, followed by Maria and Steve.

Tony approaches you from the other side and Natasha waits around the corner.

“I’m sorry about what I said” Stark says and you nod.

“Fair enough. Not sorry about punching you, though”

“Fair enough” he repeats, smiling.

When they all leave, you turn back, your eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Hi” you approach her, hands inside your pockets.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sober”

“That’s good”

“Mhm” you nod, holding her stare. Your eyes travel to her lips and you sigh. “Can we talk?”

“We don’t have to…”

“I wanna show you something. It won’t take long, I promise. What do you say?” you offer your hand and she stares at it for a second.

When Natasha nods and takes it, you hold her tight, leading her out of the Compound.

—

“She loved Central Park” you remember, walking around the benches, Natasha’s hand still in yours. “The whole city, really”

“She liked it because you live here, I think” Natasha says and you nod.

“Well, that and the pizza”

“Right” the redhead nods. You find a bench and lead her to it, pointing at the plaque.

Love is only for the brave, followed by your mother’s name.

“Is something she said often. Figured it might be nice to have it here, for people to read and gather courage”

“That’s a beautiful way to remember her” Natasha nods, aware that you’re moving closer.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you what I thought back at my place, Nat”

“You don’t need to explain anything” she interrupts, giving you a way out.

“I didn’t think you liked me that much. And I absolutely thought I was being more discreet about my feelings for you”

“It’s hard for me to think that love makes you brave… or strong” Natasha says, taking a step forward so you’re inches apart.

“I know. Please let me show you?”

“I think I’d like that” she nods, leaning forward until your lips meet in a short kiss.

When you break apart, you remember that time your mother visited. How she insisted Natasha looked at you in a special way.

“What’s so funny?” Natasha asks against your lips when you smile.

“I love you” you say and she pulls you closer.

Everything will be ok, as long as you have each other.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you

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lani-heart · 6 months

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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> kang yeosang x reader warning(s) -> smut, slight dollification, first time ?, oral ( receiving ), fingering, words -> 2.1K

abstract -> "Do you want to say yes? In being my mate?"

yeosang's perspectvie

“I don’t know why you haven't made a move yet,” Wooyoung told me and I sighed. San and Wooyoung have given me the push to make her my mate.

I wasn’t keen on sharing her… in fact, if I didn’t respect them I would try to keep her to myself. That idea just seems selfish now, especially after helping me.

“You’re also in pre-heat” San said and I scoffed. I know it is getting worse as the days go by. Soon I'll have to trap myself in my room.

“Unless you decide on a heat hotel?” The suggestion made me sick. “No way, I’d rather masturbate my whole heat,” I said and they laughed at me...

“Yeosang, are you ready to go yet?!” I heard as I saw my little angel now in the outfit I picked out to take me to that stupid kennel. I may have told her in case I should get heat suppressants.

“Good luck with the hormone pills,”

“Are you sure you want the pills? I could set up an appointment for a hotel?” she asked and I fought off the urge to ask her to help me. Everyday it was getting more difficult with her scent and presence only making it harder for me.

When we made it to the stupid facility I was taken into the doctor’s office. The one who doesn’t like me… because I bit him.

Asking me questions of how im settingling, if there's any abuse, and my options of heat. “You don’t seem so sure of the pills” he said and I sighed. “I dont have another option” I said and he nodded. “You aren’t fond of other hybrids aren’t you” he said as he typed away.

“No.” I said and he sighed.

“Heat suppressants have side effects you know pretty well. You’ve been on them a lot, so a lower dosage is recommended but it won’t help your heat too much. You’re not fond of hybrids but you do well with them, I would recommend a heat hotel for you” he suggested and I didn't want it.

“Though it is your choice as well as y/n’s,” he said and I didn't say another word as he led me back outside. “The pills should be ready in the morning tomorrow, good luck,” he said as she signed for my pills.

“Although, I would recommend looking into private organizations. With your social status and Yeosang being a purebred hybrid you could get him a mate” he suggested and I was frozen. A private mate… I've heard of these before. They suggested these… to my previous owner.

“Oh? Yeosang, do you want a mate of your own?” she asked me and I wanted so badly to tell her yes. I wanted her to be my mate.

I couldn’t answer.

“Yeosang, are you okay?” she asked and cupped my jaw to get my attention. “It was just a suggestion, but the pills will be ready tomorrow” he said and she nods as she grabs my hand to lead me out.

“Yeosang, what happened?” she asked and I sighed.

“When did you realize you liked San?” I asked and her face heated up. “San? Well, I never thought of a romantic relationship with him. I wasn’t even looking for one, but his heart was coming up, and… he asked me to help him and asked me to be his mate. I realized I didn’t mind it…” she said and I chuckled. “How about Wooyoung?” I asked and she sighed.

“If i’m being honest? Wooyoung was my crush during my school days, he was always taking care of me and in all honesty I always thought I wanted a boyfriend like him” she said and I smiled. They knew each other the longest… It was cute.

“How about me… do you see me in any way like that?” she asked and she said nothing. “Yeosang, I don’t want you to think–” “Cause I like you. A lot actually, I think I liked you since you sat at the stupid apartment complaining that there was nothing in the fridge but strawberries, chocolate, and whip cream. '' I said and she stopped walking. We were now in front of the apartment building and she looked at me stunned.

“I don’t want to intrude into your relationship with them… which is why I want to be on suppressants," I said and she sighed. “You’re my pretty hybrid, and I love you but I can't betray them,” she said and I chuckled.

“Then talk to them”

I didn’t know they didn't talk to her about it.

I thought they suggested it and she just didn’t mention it to me. She has a big heart… I know she’s loyal to them. San even told me how she didn’t want to tell him her feelings for Wooyoung while she was his mate.

I heard a knock.

“Hello, angel,” I said and she opened the door, peeking in. “Can we talk?” she asked and I nodded. I was lying down when she came into my room looking nervous and looking anywhere but me.

“You talked to them,” I said and she nodded. “San always does love leaving his scent on you… even if he wants me to tell you how I feel” I said and she chuckled “Since you’ve met me then?” she asked and I nodded.

“You’re a pretty girl,” I said and noticed how her cheeks reddened. “You’re a pretty hybrid,” she said and I felt my tail move slightly. “Do you want me to help you?” she asks and I had to try hard not to jump on my desires. “Do you want to help me?” I asked and I could tell she was flustered.

“I would be your mate,” she said and peeked up at me. Those innocent eyes of hers will kill me.

“If you’d like,” I said and she sighs. “How does it work? With other hybrids… they wouldn’t be your mate if you… uhm” she said and I laughed. “You’re right… but I like you. My body knows that so the desire in my head to claim you is there, do you want me to claim you as mine?” I said as I knew I stood up in front of her.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked and I smiled.

“I don’t want you to tell me you like me and regret it,” I said and she looked up at me. “I don’t think I would… I just don’t want you to think of me like her” she muttered and I scoffed.

“How could I ever mistake you for her?” I said as I lifted her chin to look at me.

“Do you want to say yes? In being my mate?” I asked and she looked up at me nervously and nodded.

I’m gonna ruin you for them.

no one’s perspective

“My beautiful angel, you're mine and i'm yours,” Yeosang said as he started pushing you on the bed to tower over you on his bed. He reached up to kiss you… it wasn’t desperate or fast. A soft and slow kiss that escalated almost like Yeosang wanted to savor your taste.

All while his hands wandered off your hips higher until he reached your rib cage just below your chest. “Such a lewd sight for such an innocent thing like you… maybe I shouldn’t be calling you angel after this” he teased you. “So pretty… especially when I dress you up in these dresses and do your hair. You’re almost like my doll” he said as kissed down your neck to your cleavage and now to the waistband of your panties.

“You’ve ruined them” he teased as he put a finger onto your clothed clit. A dark wet spot was visible to him and the more he touched the more you squirmed under his touch.

“I need you to concentrate,” he said as he now gripped your hips tight and looked at your eyes.

“I can edge you over and over again until you cum so hard you see white, or I can make you cum over and over again until you scream for me to stop,” he said, only adding to the wet spot on your panties.

“Then again… you three were virgins so I don’t expect you to know too much,” he said with a smirk while you avoided his gaze. “I think i want to see these eyes of yours filled with tears”' he confessed as he put his hand on your neck just below your jaw so you could look him in the eyes.

“What do you say, angel?” he asked and you smiled softly at him “I trust you,” you said and in Yeosang’s mind, he just wanted to ruin you.

You made a mistake.

He immediately dove down to your clothed pussy and licked you through the fabric he chose. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s just as much of a pervert as San and Wooyoung.

Wooyoung was easy to fluster… especially since recently Yeosang has been showing you what underwear to wear with certain clothes. As much as it was awkward for him to do so… it was normalized.

Yeosang would sometimes tease the two saying what pair he chose for you to wear today.

Now being able to taste you through the pair he did choose this morning was making him harder than he’d like to admit.

“Can I take this off, doll?” he asked, testing out what you were comfortable with in which you nod and he takes off your panties and bra leaving you bare.

He kissed you pressing his body against yours as he groped your chest making you moan and whine into the heated kiss as he forced you to taste yourself.

When he finally pulled away a string of saliva connecting the both of you, he started marking you. Making sure that the mark he was making was gonna be seen by your two other mates.

Everything for him was blissful… he never felt the need to actually want to enjoy having sex with people, but you weren’t just anyone. As he now lowered to suck on your breasts. His hands now lowered down to your clit.

Not being able to control your moans and whimpers as he barely even toyed with you was music to his ears. His main goal was to stretch you out… despite having mated with Wooyoung who just like him was a canine he needed to make sure you weren’t gonna be in pain.

He knew some people liked the pain… but he couldn’t imagine doing that to you.

“If everything becomes too much, tell me to stop, okay?” he asks you and you nod as he now lowers himself to the source of his lust. Licking up your entrance into your clit was a lot more pleasurable than you expected.

So when he pulled away you couldn’t help but whine, frustrated by the lack of contact. However, he pressed the tip of his cock against your clit. Moving slightly to add pleasure to your clit and coat you with his pre-cum.

He looked at you waiting for permission. “I trust you, Yeosang” you stated confirming his thoughts as he slipped in slowly at first only the tip of his cock teasing you. Even though you weren’t a virgin and he didn’t need to fear hurting you, he wanted to make sure he didn’t cause you any pain from having to adjust to him.

Slowly bottoming out has you gasping for air while he leaned down to meet your face. “I don’t even want to move… you feel so addicting” he confessed as he marked your neck some more.

He started moving slowly, thrusting into you slowly with very little force to make your body bounce just slightly. It was enough to make you whine out and show him your frustrated expression.

“What's wrong? I can pull–” “No,” you said while lifting your legs to wrap against his waist. He chuckled as he placed his hands on your chest and he started thrusting out of you, eventually leaning back at an angle that made you feel something that neither San nor Wooyoung achieved.

Moans getting louder when he was pushed out and a gush of liquid squirted out of you… he only chuckled leaving you confused at what happened while he lowered down to lick up your mess and finger you. Hitting the same spot… “Yeosang… no don’t–” you couldn’t stop him when it happened again and he rubbed your clit through it.

You were starting to get tired… you came twice times and he hasn’t came once.

Deep in thought he slapped your clit lightly to make your body jolt and you to look at him shocked with a sharp moan.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked and you sighed. “Are you enjoying–” “Never ask me that, I can go for many more hours… I just want to have fun with you first” he said sadistically.

“I wanna corrupt my little angel”

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barcaatthemoon · 4 months

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Could you maybe do a blurb for Lessi or Leah based on prompt 97 & 81?

97 - "You've taken good care of me, now let me take care of you."

81 - "The pain always subsides eventually."

nurse lessi || alessia russo x reader ||

you woke up with a familiar pain in your legs. alessia was fast asleep next to you in bed with her face buried in your pillow. the curtains hadn't been pulled shut outside, but there was no sunlight pouring in. you could hear the rain beating down against the roof outside. there had once been a time when you loved rainy days, but now they were the bane of your existence.

"shit," you swore as you got out of bed. every bit of your body from the waist down ached painfully. still, you tried to keep your groans quiet so that alessia didn't know. she had a big competition coming up and needed all her focus for that. your old injuries were nothing you wanted to bother her with.

you hobbled your way to the kitchen to start on breakfast. the hope that moving around would help dwindled as your pain only seemed to increase. never one to give up easily, you pushed through the pain to make breakfast and coffee for alessia. you were nearly finished with everything when you finally heard her make her way into the kitchen.

"good morning," alessia greeted you with a kiss. you smiled into the kiss as you leaned against alessia's body. "you didn't have to do this. we could have ordered in."

"i like doing things for you, that's all," you told her. alessia smiled as she tugged you along with her. if she noticed the little grunt you made as you moved, she didn't mention it. the two of you ate on the couch together, mainly so that alessia could pull you into her arms to cuddle after eating.

"are you okay?" alessia asked as she sat up behind you. there was a pain in your hip that had been causing you to shift around on top of alessia continuously for the past 10 minutes. alessia knew that you could be restless sometimes, but this wasn't the same.

"i'm fine. the weather is just messing with my body a little," you told her. alessia's eyebrows knit together as she studied you. her face fell as she realized that you were in pain. it was subtle, but alessia never missed the signs when she slowed down enough to focus on you. "it's fine less, i swear. the pain always subsides eventually."

"i'm such a shit girlfriend," alessia mumbled as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. you couldn't do anything as she slipped out from beneath you and rushed down the hallway. moments later, she returned with a bottle of pills in her hand. "here, take these. i am so sorry that i didn't notice earlier."

"less, i'm fine," you lied. alessia wasn't having any of it, sternly staring at you with an outstretched hand. you took the offered pain pills and laid back on the couch. you hated to admit it, but you were far more comfortable without alessia's body beneath yours. you loved a good cuddle, but sometimes your body didn't care what you wanted.

"do you need anything else? i can get a hot or cold pack for you," alessia offered.

"less, i'm fine," you promised her. she looked like she was on the verge of smacking you if you told her that you were fine again. "relax, it's your day off."

"you've taken good care of me, now let me take care of you. that's what i want to do on my day off, okay?" because of that, you couldn't argue against alessia taking care of you. she did everything for you that she could. you were still in quite a bit of pain, but alessia did make getting through the day much easier than it would have been otherwise.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader

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covetyou · 7 months

Text

no shortage of sordid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, Joel Miller x m!OC (unnamed) rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: very dubious consent (not from reader), oral sex (m receiving from m), voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, brief mention of food and allusion to hunger, unnamed m!OC, m/m, Joel is not exactly gay he's just a domineering asshole, drug reference word count: 3.1k summary: Your deal with Joel has changed into something else, something different to when you first came to his door asking for help months ago. But, when you try to take him up on your new arrangement, you're met with something you never expected.

A/N: this was originally a much shorter deleted scene from the start of the dark caress of someone else. I took it out because it was too much and after writing that chapter I told myself I would avoid writing threesomes for as long as possible, because god damn it there's too many body parts. well, me, fuck you, this is threesome adjacent and not technically a threesome at all.

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Six days. That's how long it takes for you to cave and admit you want him. It takes you another two to do anything about it.

The first time you make the trip to Joel's apartment, no pills necessary, you're faced with silence and a door that won't open.

With an hour break between your jobs the next day, you make another attempt. But, you barely make it through the market when you see him trailing behind Tess, hulking figure parting the crowd with ease. You don't stop to see where they're going, instead choosing to turn on your heel and head back the way you came. The less you know, the better. Using the cards he handed back to you nine days ago, you stop by a street food vendor on your way to your next job, eating your first hot meal not only of that day, but that week, the warm food soothing more than just the emptiness in your stomach.

It takes you much longer to convince yourself to try on the third day. Your thoughts hadn't immediately gone to Joel Miller that morning. You had toyed with going for a walk, with seeing if you could pick up more work. But soon your hands ache, bones creaking in their joints as you clench them once again, trying to stave off the want in your belly with the pinch of nails digging into your palms.

Fuck it. You're going. Whether he's there or not, the need to get out of this apartment far outweighs the desire to stay warm inside it.

So, one gray trudge across a gray Boston to a gray apartment block later, you're at his door. Again.

Only this time there's not silence on the other side.

You can hear a murmur - undoubtedly Joel by the heavy rasp of a wry laugh that follows it - and a garbled whimper.

And, of course, you could leave. You could turn your back and leave Joel up to whatever it is, whoever it is, he's doing in there, but you don't. You knock, wanting him to know that even if he's occupied, you showed up. You came to him, not for pills, but for sex. For want, for desire, for the ease of the ache between your legs and the itch in your palms that just won't quit no matter how much you make yourself come.

Even with company, he doesn't make you wait long.

So it's not that you're not expecting the shuffle of two sets of feet. Or the thud on the door, heavy and dull like something big had caught itself before falling down. You knew he wasn't alone and, after all, the only thing you could really expect when visiting Joel was that nothing would be as expected.

No, that's not what surprises you at all.

What surprises you is when the door drifts open a fraction, a disembodied hand reaching through and pulling you through the gap, dragging you inside. What surprises you is tripping over his shoes, only they're not his shoes, the feet turned the wrong way up to belong to the all too familiar man standing before you.

What surprises you is seeing a man on his knees in front of Joel Miller.

It surprises you so much, you don't even notice as the door clicks shut and the hand that dragged you inside pulls you once again to stand at his side.

From here you can get a full view. There's a man on his knees in front of Joel. Joel's pants are unbuckled and pulled low on his hips. And then, the entire scene becomes very, very clear.

There is a man on his knees in front of Joel with his cock in his mouth.

So, when Joel looks at you with a glint in his eye, you're suddenly rooted to the spot, staring between him and the man beneath him. A smirk from Joel tells you you've been looking a little too long so, embarrassed and not quite sure what to do with yourself, you spin around, turning to inspect the back of a chair as if it was the most interesting thing in the room, not the man currently bobbing his head up and down on Joel's length.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he drawls from behind you. "Ain't no fun for me if you ain't lookin'."

As you always do where Joel is concerned, you do as you're told, taking a deep breath as you turn back to watch the man swallow down Joel's cock. You'd seen this kind of thing before - turned down the wrong street at the wrong time more than once only to see someone on their knees for someone else, earning yourself a wink or an insult for the privilege. But you never stayed to watch. Yet, here you are, staying and watching either because it was Joel, or because he asked, you weren't too sure.

The why doesn't exactly matter, you figure, not when your cheeks were rapidly heating and the wet patch in your panties was doing nothing but grow.

"Think he likes the audience too," Joel is saying, nodding down to the guy on his knees. "Don't you?"

You can see that he does. There's a hard bulge in the front of his pants, a bulge that looks much harder than the cock currently in his mouth.

"Dick always so hard for a straight guy. Think you like being a cocksucker." Joel gives the man an awkward pat on the head and huffs out a laugh, looking away from him to look back at you.

"Likin' what you see, sweetheart?" he jokes, casting dark eyes up and down your body. He can't see much. It's still fucking freezing, which is no surprise for a February in Boston, and you're still wrapped up against the elements because of it. But you know his gaze is looking through all of it, seeing through the layers straight down to your flesh, to your hard nipples and the wetness between your legs. He raises that infuriating, knowing, eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes.

"'m serious, you gotta keep lookin' or I'm never gonna come," he says then, and you drag your eyes back in an instant. You briefly wonder why - how - he would never come from this until it hits you.

Having a man suck his dick isn't Joel Miller's idea of a good time. Whoever the man on his knees is, he owes Joel. Maybe just like you did, or maybe worse. It doesn't matter, because you're not witnessing a blow job, you're witnessing a fucking business transaction.

And so you laugh - not at Joel, or the man, not really, but at the entire fucked situation and the world that brought you to this place.

"Y'hear that?" Joel growls down at the man. "She's laughin' at you."

Pinching his eyes shut, the man groans, and you swear you can see a dark patch starting to form on the front of his pants. It almost feels wrong, looking at another mans bulge like this when Joel's cock is right there, disappearing in and out of the strangers mouth at a languid pace. You can't even ask his name - his mouth too full to get out more than a garbled moan. Maybe names don't matter either.

Joel's eyes haven't left you, and yours haven't left the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. He's harder now, softness completely gone now that you're here to witness it. Giving and watching a blow job are so much different to what you expected. There's a wet sound in the air, for one. That rhythmic, wet noise of a throat being fucked was usually masked by your own moans, made easy to ignore by the distraction filling your mouth. But here, several steps away, it is loud.

"That's it. Keep your eyes right there," Joel murmurs before pointing to your outer layer. "Unzip your coat, lemme see. Get those pretty tits out for me, sweetheart. Don't mind him. He ain't gonna look. Are you?"

The man groans again, keeping his eyes shut as his head bobs on Joel's cock, taking an impressive amount of him down his throat with each movement. There's a small shake of his head, and while you don't believe him, you find you don't care either. You don't know the man on the floor any more than he knows you, and you have a feeling he's likely to keep his mouth shut once he leaves Joel's apartment today anyway.

A fraction of a second later, you're pulling your jacket open and yanking your sweater up above your tits, baring them to Joel. He murmurs something to himself, fisting his shirt tightly as he holds it up, exposing his belly. It strikes you then how damn distracted you had been every time before now - Joel's fingers, or tongue, or cock working you in such a way that you were brainless and oblivious to the physical affects you had on him. Now, its obvious. Like a man possessed, he watches you with blown eyes, his cock in full hardness now as the man below him works him over with his mouth and tongue.

Dragging cool fingers down your exposed chest, you meet your already pebbled nipples, pinching them and holding back a soft gasp. It's as much for you as it is to get a reaction from Joel, and if he didn't know you were wet before, he does now.

"That's it, play with 'em. And keep watching, sweetheart. Want you to watch when I come down his throat."

It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but certainly not a chore. The man has picked up his pace, sucking and moaning around Joel's length as he slurps it down. He holds back a splutter when Joel's hips buck forward just as you pinch your nipples harder again, squeezing the flesh of your tits in cold palms.

"Fuuck, that's it, keep watchin'. You like that? Bet you want a taste of this dick too, huh?"

You nod, words stuck in your throat as Joel presses the mans head further into his crotch, rocking his hips to fuck lightly into his mouth.

"You needy and dripping over there ain't you?" he growls. He doesn't wait for you to nod, he doesn't need to. "Yeah you fuckin' are. Dirty fuckin' girl, watching my dick gettin' sucked. You like watching, don't you? Say it. Wanna hear it."

"I like it. I like watching, Joel," you say, barely more than a whisper as you become more and more entranced by Joel's cock in the mans mouth.

"Shit. Keep watchin'. Gonna come. Need you to watch."

It's all you can do to hold back a moan, your panties now probably ruined by your dripping, neglected cunt. This was not what you came here for, but watching Joel mumble obscenities and growl filth to you and the man on his knees as he gets his cock sucked was something you never knew you wanted before now. Sure, you want to touch, to play with him yourself. But watching is getting you wetter and wetter without even a finger or the press of your thighs to help you along the way.

"That's it. You keep suckin'. Fuck. Gonna bet you want this load in you not in him, right?"

Nodding frantically, you move a hand to your waistband, a soft plea on your lips, ready to pull your pants down any second. "Please - "

"Fuck - shit - well too bad, sweetheart. You look at that dick gettin' sucked. Shit - gonna come. Look at me. I said look at me."

Your eyes meet his just as they flutter closed. Joel groans a curse, his balls starting to empty into the throat of the man in front of him until he's suddenly tugging the mans hair, pulling his mouth off of his cock. The man gasps, swallowing down what he can as Joel rapidly strokes his spit soaked length, jerking the remains of his spend over the mans face and mouth. His eyes immediately flick to yours, a soft moan having left your own lips the moment Joel started to come, and he groans again, a final spurt coating the mans chin, soaking his facial hair. It's filthy. Not the most filthy thing you know Joel's done, but the most filthy thing you've ever seen him do from the outside. You can't help but stare on in silence, too captivated by the spurts of milky white dripping over the mans face, his eyes still screwed tight. You're aching and desperate to stick a hand down your pants, to feel how wet you are, to touch your clit and make yourself come as you try to hold yourself upright on shaky legs.

Through syrupy blood pulsing in your ears you hear Joel growl down at the man, removing his hand from his hair like it's burned his palm. Then, he's looking to you again, deep brown eyes searching your own before falling down, down to where your hand cups your breast and your other fists the waistband of your pants in a tight grip. He knows - knows that even if you came here already wet and wanting, you were even more so now.

And it's with a smirk and a sharp snap of his fingers that he pulls you back into the room. The man's eyes are open now, avoiding yours as he wipes cum from his face with his sleeve, covertly licking his lips for any remnant taste of Joel. You can't blame him, fuck knows you'd done the same when Joel had swiped a taste of himself over your own lips, but you can't help the jealousy at wanting to taste again too.

It's then you remember your exposed chest, and you yank your sweater back down without another glance to the man on his knees. Joel shakes his head, a shit eating grin spreading across his face as he strides across the room. He goes to the cupboard where you know he keeps a small amount of his stock, rifling through for a second before coming back with a baggy and tossing it down on the floor at the mans knees. He scrambles for it immediately, climbing to his feet and grabbing the door. Joel doesn't look at him again.

"Say hello to your wife for me," Joel calls over his shoulder, and the man scurries away without a word.

Now it's just you and him, his unbuttoned pants the only remaining evidence of what just happened.

You hesitate, partly in stunned silence, partly your brain having turned to liquid between your ears, all coherent thought lost the moment Joel's cum spurted across the mans face. But there's still that unsatisfied ache between your legs, throbbing and making your hand twitch, willing you to reach for him now that he's so close.

Joel sees it, he knows, knows what you came here for and knows what you won't be getting.

"Not today, sweetheart. Couldn't even if I tried," he says gesturing to his spent already dick tucked back into his pants. "Gotta head out again too, so whatever you got goin' on in those panties, you gotta deal with it yourself." He finishes with a wink and a tap to your chin before grabbing a small gym bag from the couch. You hadn't even seen it there, brain too occupied by more interesting things happening in this room at the time.

So it's no surprise, really, when your mouth starts running before your mind can process what it's doing. There's only one thing you're thinking of. One thing, aside from the throb in your core, that you can't stop thinking about, that envy won't let you give up.

"Would you - " your mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish while your mind stutters and stops. You shouldn't even ask. There's no answer that can satisfy that particular itch. Not as quickly as you'd want it, at least. If he said yes, he'd already said nothing could happen right now, and if he said no, well... there was something about the thought of him denying you that did something to you too. There was no winning.

"Would I what?"

Of course, Joel had already heard. Even as he potters about the apartment, dumping stuff into the bag from places you've not been paying attention to. He stops, prompting you to go on.

"Would you... Would you come in my mouth like that? One time?"

He stares at you with his mouth open in disbelief. "You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly so fucking dry you can't speak anymore. You'd been salivating, able to practically taste the phantom flavor of Joel's cum on your tongue just a moment ago. Now, it was like you'd been chewing on bricks, tongue sticky and dry and your teeth feeling like an awkward jumble in your mouth.

"Well, shit. Call the press. Respectable good girl wants to be my little cocksucker -"

"Fine, if you're going to make fun, I don't -"

"Woah, hold on, I'm fuckin' with you. I ain't gonna turn down shutting that pretty mouth up with my dick. Gotta do it more than one time though, sweetheart. You around tomorrow?"

Between jobs and your dad having a day off, it would be a few days before you could come back. Shaking your head, you offer up Thursday instead. It's only three days away. You can make it three more days. Right?

"Thursday works for me. Come by in the afternoon. I'll come in that mouth, and then I'll play with that pussy while I get worked up again," he says before adding, with a cock of his head, "Then I'll come in that too."

And you're dumbstruck - the fantasy you concocted in your own head far surpassed by Joel's own, seemingly thought up right on the spot as he maneuvers you out into the hallway.

"See you then, sweetheart."

He pushes you out of the door, fingers electrified where they touch your shoulder. You expect the door to snap shut behind you, like it has so many times before, but he follows you out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. With a wink, he stalks off down the corridor, legs carrying him out of the apartment block too quick for you to keep up.

Later that night, alone in bed and wondering how the hell you're going to last two more days like this, you rub yourself stupid to thoughts of Joel's cock in a mouth that isn't yours.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #Joel Miller x m!OC #fic: SWAT #coveted fics

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vore-mpregfan57 · 4 months

Text

Late Night Library Snack

(A vore story starting AbigChris)

It was another night at the library preparing for finals. It was pouring rain outside as I fingered chapter 5 of the 27 chapter text book. I kept reading, but I soon looked up after finishing chapter 8, and to my surprise, there was no one in the library. I then check the time, and I realized the library had closed about 15 minutes ago.

I quickly packed up my stuff and went to the exit, but when I tried to the door open, it wouldn’t budge. I then remembered that the library locked automatically, and I realized I was stuck in the library till morning.

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me, and I turned around to see a tall man standing behind me. He asked me if the door was locked, and I said yeah, and I told him that we were stuck for the night. He then held his hand out and introduced himself to me, telling me his name was Chris.

Me and Chris then spent the next little bit getting to know each other, considering it was dark and we were stuck for the night. As we chatted, I could hear his stomach growling, and at one point, it growled so loud that no one could ignore it. I asked him if he was hungry, and he said yeah and told me he hadn’t eaten in a few hours. He then looked me up and down, then he asked me if I wanted to help him out, and I knew exactly what he meant, and I excitedly agreed.

I then asked Chris if he wanted me to get more “comfortable”, and he said I could decide that. I said alright, then quickly took off my t-shirt and basketball shorts. I then looked at Chris, and he smirked and said I looked good shirtless. My face instantly turned bright red, and he didn’t hesitate for a second, and within a few moments, I was curled up inside his belly.

After landing inside his stomach, I was surprised to feel no burning, and I asked him if he had taken an anti-acid pill, and he said no, but he then told me that his stomach acid was just at a really low level, and he said that it would probably take a few weeks to fully digest me. I said alright, then I asked him if he was planning on digesting me, and he told me that he would let me decide once we got out of the library.

We then spent the rest of the night talking and just enjoying each other’s company. It honestly felt weird being inside a stomach and being slowly digested without panicking, but I honestly felt safe inside Chris, dispute knowing that I was slowly becoming his meal.

Around 8am, while me and Chris were talking about a campus event that happened a few days ago, he told me he hears a sound, and he went to the front entrance and saw the door open. He then grabbed my stuff and his stuff, and we left the library.

Once we were out, he asked me if I wanted to stay inside him and become his meal or if I wanted to come out a see another day. I then look around me. I looked at the pool of acid that was starting to tingle around me. I looked at the pieces of granola bar floating in front of me. I then looked inside myself and at my life. After a few moments, I said that I would stay inside and become his meal.

The next few days were amazing. Chris went to his finals, and my body slowly started to dissolve. By the 2nd morning, my underwear had complete dissolved, and I was nude inside his stomach. By day 5, I could see little bits of a my skin starting flake off. Throughout all of this, Chris talked to me and kept me company, and I felt safe. Even though I was slowly digesting, I was happier than I had been my entire college experience.

Around day 8, I started to feel weak. I thanked Chris for giving me a great last few days, and he said that it was his pleasure. Later that night, I lost consciousness, and over the course of the next few days, my entire body fell into the acid, and by week 3, I had dissolved and become observed by Chris’s body, adding to his belly, ass, and thighs.

This is Chris writing now. He was a great meal, but had even better friend. He will forever be remembered on my body, and I even got a tattoo of his name on my arm. Goodbye little buddy. You were amazing in every way.

#male pred #male vore

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webslingingslasher · 6 months

Note

how would telling nerdy!peter you’re pregnant go

i feel like he would know before you do. *cleaning out my inbox*

peter's ears are ringing when you enter the kitchen. a paper bag is tucked into your arm while you juggle a water bottle and car keys. something about you has the hair raising on the back of his neck.

'are you okay?'

you blink up at him, you glance down to the groceries, nothing spilled. 'i'm okay, are you okay?'

peter pushes past that, it doesn't feel right. there's something he can't sense out and it wasn't there this morning. 'no, seriously, are you okay? do you feel okay?'

your eyebrows furrow as you set everything down. 'yeah, why?' peter watches you closely, his eyes trailing after you as you moved around the kitchen. 'i don't know. something feels off, are you sure you're okay?'

you laugh with your head in the fridge, it's cute when he's worrisome. 'i promise i'm fine!'

peter lays off, but something is different about you and he can't place it.

---

peter swears something is wrong, he's had an odd buzzing feeling that keeps him tethered to your side and reaching out every thirty minutes when you're not around him.

you kept telling him you were fine and peter thought it would even out eventually but it's been two weeks and it's gotten worse. it's gotten so bad he doesn't want you leaving his sight.

like this morning, you gagged around your toothbrush and scraped your tongue clean with your teeth, your face went sour as you looked at peter.

'that tastes rotten.' the toothpaste went bad. you have no idea how, or if it's possible, but your mouth tasted like you just gargled with orange juice and made out with a mint.

peter tried it out for himself and told you it was how it's always been, but you made him promise he'd buy a new tube anyway. he agreed but had something tugging at his stomach, this wasn't normal.

the final straw was a few days later and you approached him with your head in your hands and a wince. peter almost jumped up from the couch, his movements panicked but touch soft as he cradled your face.

'talk to me, what's wrong?'

you suck in a deep breath, it makes your pain amplify. for the first time ever, a headache as you wanting to faint into peter's chest. 'sweetheart?'

your voice cracks, it's never been this bad before in your life. 'my head really hurts, petey.' it's all you needed to say, peter kissed your forehead and started nudging you towards the bedroom.

'go lay down, i'm going to get you some advil, alright?' you nod, it's weak, it feels like your head is a thousand pounds. you feel useless while you sink into the mattress, the first thing peter does is rip the curtains closed, it's almost pitch black and you've never been more grateful.

'pills.' they're deposited into your hand. 'water.' you take a small sip, peter tilts the cup back up when you lower it, you take a larger gulp. 'down.' you follow his direction and melt into your pillow.

'close your eyes.' you do. peter presses a kiss to your forehead, another on your cheek. 'i want you to take a nap.' you can't bring yourself to open your eyes and instead pat his hand instead as a response.

peter thinks you're asleep before he's out of the room.

you think you've been down between two and three hours and you could use another four. the past week you've been as good as dead, work must have exhausted you. it would explain the sudden sore feet and urge to constantly nap.

but more than sleep is the deep pit of hunger you have. peter's cooking dinner and it woke you from a good slumber. you doubled up on lunch today and you're thinking of doing the same with dinner.

as you roll out of bed you're happy to report there's no more migraine. you repeat this to peter the second he asks how you're feeling as he's plating your dinner. 'good.'

you lick your lips at the ceramic peter sets in front of you, he sits next to you and as you grab your fork, he stops you. for a moment you think about crying.

'i need to talk to you, we need to talk.'

every bit of you shrivels up. you think you might actually start crying. 'okay.' it's as timid as you feel, peter's eyes soften immediately, he's not mad, he's just serious.

'i'm talking to you as your husband right now, not your friend. i know you feel fine, you've been telling me that for three weeks. i don't feel fine. i'm anxious over you and it's starting to tear me apart. i need you to go to the doctor's, i need them to tell me you're okay.'

you feel your heart crumble a little, you never meant to make him so upset. 'peter, i know you're worried but i promise i'm okay.' peter really doesn't want to scare you but he's unsure of how to get you to listen.

'it feels like there's something wrong with you, alright? something i can't see or diagnosis. so i need you to go to a doctor, okay?'

you've never seen peter so freaked out and his sixth sense has you a little scared because if he can sense things before you can but he can't place it, that means it has to be bad.

you nod fast, you'll do anything to bring him a peace of mind. 'okay. i'll make an appointment and you can come with me. then we can squash this together, right?'

he hates to admit it, but peter doesn't feel any better when you agree. he's going to be biting his nails and pulling his hair until you're sitting in the doctor's office with a green screen and a thumbs up.

----

'they're making me pee in a cup, peter.'

'that's normal. they're screening you.'

'because of you! they asked why i wanted an appointment and i had to tell them 'my husband has a bad feeling.' i've never pissed in a cup before and now they probably think you're poisoning me.'

'something's poisoning you.' you rest your hand on his arm, you've never seen peter so worked up. 'is it really that bad?' it has to be, the week before your appointment he refused to let you out of his sight. he wouldn't tell you anything beyond a tugging feeling in his gut.

and if you're being honest, you're not complaining. because there's something about peter that's had you clinging to him and begging for him at every waking moment because everytime he touches you, there's a whole new wave of sensation and pleasure that wasn't there before.

'i haven't slept the last three nights because i'm scared i'll wake up but you won't.'

'oh, petey. i promise i'm okay. there's been nothing wrong beyond that one headache, i promise. but look, we're at the doctors and i'll get a clean bill of health and we can have a nap when we get home?'

he doesn't seem satisfied with the answer. 'okay.' it makes you anxiously chew on your bottom lip, you're not peter, but you've known him long enough that this isn't normal. it makes your heart hurt because he's been in a panic for over a month now and you keep shrugging him off.

'i'm sorry i didn't take you seriously, peter. i'm sorry i made it get to this point, i promise you in the future i won't wait so long.' except peter doesn't know if you waited too long and there won't be a next time.

'i'm gonna go pee in this and then i'll be the next one up.'

if you thought peter was nervous before, he's now one breath away from a panic attack, shaking his knee and chewing on his thumbnail before you're back to sitting with him and then bouncing up to tug you with him the second your name is called.

----

even your doctor was slightly puzzled at your claim. you'd answered normally to every question. no sudden changes, no balance issues, no blurry vision, no stomach pains, nothing.

'sexually active?'

'yes.'

'are you using protection?'

'no. we stopped a little over a year ago.'

'date of your last period?'

you look at peter for help, he shrugs, you think back. 'i haven't gotten it this month yet. so i think last month?' she scribbles quickly, then double checks.

'headaches?' you shake your head, your husband clears his throat. you want to roll your eyes, instead you remind yourself this is for peter's sanity.

'i had one last week. that's it.'

'breast tenderness?' you cup them, nothing. 'no.'

'you did a urine sample at check in?'

'yes.'

her small chair spins when she stands, 'let me check on it. i'll be right back.' peter opens his mouth the second the door shuts behind her.

'i don't care what you say, if it comes back clean, we're getting a second opinion.' then, 'actually, i'm going to insist on a blood test.'

'peter,' he holds up his hand. 'i'm serious. there are things that your pee won't tell them, there are so many things that could be floating around your bloodstream.'

you're doing this for him. you're doing this for his peace of mind. you need to keep telling yourself that this isn't peter, this isn't normal. you trust him more than anything and if he's saying something is wrong, something's wrong.

'okay. we'll get a second opinion, or a specialist, or a blood test, or whatever you need me to do.'

that's all you needed to say, he finally somewhat relaxes, but stiffens right back up at a knock on the door. you lightly kick your feet on the bench and smile politely when the doctor reenters. there's a nod at your smile, you stop your movements, it feels serious.

this time, she doesn't sit down. this time, she has a file in her hold and only looks at you. 'so, i have your results here, but before i continue, would you like your husband to be in the room with you?'

your heart sinks and your face drops, they found something. peter was right. something was wrong. but how did you not know? how did you feel totally fine? if anything you kept telling him that you've never felt better and you've never been so energetic.

you reach for peter without thinking, he squeezes your hand tighter than you are. 'yes. i need him here.' when peter's standing next to you, the doctor looks at both of you and clears her throat.

'you're pregnant. i'd say somewhere from four to six weeks estimated by your last period date.'

you don't say a word, neither does peter.

'i'll give you two a moment alone and come back in... lets say ten minutes? then we can talk about your options moving forward.'

silence. you don't move a muscle. the door is shut and you're staring at empty space, you can hear the clock ticking on the wall behind you, peter's chest brushes your back.

'baby?'

'yeah?'

'did you hear what she said?'

'yeah.'

your eyes close at a soft kiss to your head. 'are we happy?' your heart clenches, your hand rests over your stomach and your mind starts to catch up.

'pregnant.' it's all that will come out. peter gives you another kiss, it's just as delicate as the first one. 'you are.' your hand washes over your tummy, you don't feel pregnant.

'you did this to me.' peter nudges your hand away and moves his own in the same circle, you think he's looking for the same thing. 'a little bit.' he's holding back any excitement until you make a call but you see the way his eyes are shining.

you exhale until your stomach puffs out, it's a mimic for what's to come. 'you're gonna make me look like this.' peter smiles, he likes what he's hearing.

'so are we happy?'

pregnant. pregnant. you're pregnant. you have a baby in your stomach. you have peter's baby in your stomach. you're pregnant.

you're pregnant and you're so damn happy.

in a second you're tugging at peter for a crushing hug. 'we're pregnant. we're gonna have a baby and we are so fucking happy.' you didn't think it was possible. peter's kissing where he can reach, you pull back to look at him, both of you teary eyed.

it'd been a year and you thought kids weren't in the cards. you weren't actively trying but you both agreed to stop preventing too. and each month when you got your period, you didn't mind, you loved peter and if it was just you and him for the rest of your lives you'd be more than okay with that.

but this? having a baby with the person you love most in the world? it's a token of your love, something that would be both him and you forever.

'i really hope they have your eyes.' peter shakes his head, 'no way. for their sake, i hope they get all your genes.' you feel your lower lip tremble, there's finally an explanation for all the tears you've shed over the past week.

it didn't even have to be sad. everything was accompanied by tears and this is no exception. peter doesn't care, hormonal or not, tears are tears and he's causing them. 'what did i do?' his thumbs brush under your eyes, on guard for any wetness that dare pass them.

your voice is watery when you answer, you know it's silly but holy shit, this feels serious and you'll die on this hill for whatever reason. 'i really want...' you blink, big drops are caught in a second.

'i really want them to have your eyes and you don't want that.' peter moves fast and you exhale a shaky sob into his chest. peter is in the process of damage control recon.

'i was making a joke, honey. a really bad, terrible joke. i'm so so glad you want them to have my eyes, i'm super honored, sweetheart. of course i'd love it if they did.'

you sniff into his shirt, 'do you mean it?' there's a sprinkling of kisses over your hairline. 'of course. you want our baby to look like me, how could i be offended?'

it's enough to have you relaxing, you wipe your own eyes clear before clearing your throat and scooting away from peter. 'i'm sorry, i don't know why that was so important to me. i think you'll have to deal with this a lot.' you feel shy, all of a sudden you think you're asking for too much.

'i'm gonna be so annoying peter. i'm gonna cry and puke and hate things one second and love them the next, i'll get grouchy and miserable and sore and by the time i go to pop this kid out you'll hate me.'

'hey, shhh, you're doing that thing where you think too far ahead. one problem at a time, right? crying isn't an issue, we've been together long enough i know how to navigate that. puke? um, babe, i hate to remind you, but this little gold band on my finger tells me in sickness and in health.'

you feel your pout slowly lift up, he always has an answer.

'as long as it's not me you're hating, i'll manage. i've dealt with your grouchy mornings for years, and i still look forward to every one. if you're miserable and sore, i'll give you a massage. and by the time you pop that kid out, i'll be so damn excited to have them meet my favorite person ever. my wife.'

peter releases a quick breath. 'how'd i do?' you chose the right person to do this with. you really did.

'i'm so excited to do this with you.' your husband beams, he made you feel better, you're worrying over nothing. peter has this handled.

'i am too. we need to get you some vitamins and i should start emptying out the second bedroom. we should also look into some books and maybe some classes, may said my mom took lamaze classes and it saved her during labor.'

'and a doctor! we need to schedule with your OBGYN, and i need to clean out the fridge. i don't think you can eat deli meat, maybe i'll start looking at some-'

'peter, we're having a baby.'

it stops him from his tirade, he hasn't been able to stop smiling. 'we are.'

'and you were right, something was wrong! you're like one of those cancer sniffer-outer- dogs.' peter tilts his hand back and forth. 'i mean, that's not cancer,' a point to your soon-to-be bump. 'and i'm not a dog, but i know when something isn't normal.'

'do you think you sniffed it out the second you knocked me up?' peter holds a straight face, you bite back a grin and whisper out to him.

'peter?'

'yeah?' he's just as quiet.

'we're having a baby.'

peter can't stop his coos, your face cradled in his hands while he presses tiny kisses over your cheeks. you don't feel as robbed from a home test, you always figured you'd have the moment where you're in the bathroom with shaky hands but instead you're in a doctor's office and you realize the setting doesn't matter, it's the person you're doing it with.

the celebration halts when there's another knock on the door, when the doctor sees the blinding smile on both your faces she shares her own. 'i assume this is good news then?'

you both answer at the same time. 'really good.'

she looks even happier and gently bows before taking a seat and grabbing a few squirts of hand sanitizer. 'then let me be the first to congratulate the both of you.' you both say thank you and your heart elevates ten levels when she addresses you as what you're about to be.

'so, mom, i assume you have an OB established?'

mom. mom. mom. you're going to be a mom. your head spaces while you nod, your doctor seems relieved at the answer. 'great. i want you to reach out and schedule an appointment, they'll be able to tell you a little bit more about what to expect and the next steps. depending on how far along you are, you and dad might be able to hear some heart tones. in the meantime, i recommend you get on some prenatals and limit your caffeine intake.'

mom and dad. you think you like the sound of it.

'any questions?' peter looks at you, then the wall. he's got one but he's scared to ask, your doctor senses this. 'dad? the floor is open to you, too.' you fawn at his pink cheeks, he loves the new name like you do.

'um, are there... limitations on what she can do? physically?'

a small grin, she knows what he's asking. 'honestly, mom should keep doing her day to day like normal, things will start to get hard when she gets bigger. if you're asking if there's any limitations on sex, no, it's just all based on mom's comfort.'

'mom's been very comfortable.' you speak from the corner of your mouth but she hears you and she's got a gleam in her eye. 'those extra hormones can be fun. any more questions?'

you're sure you'll have a thousand but right now all you want to do is lay in peter's arms and talk about who your baby will eventually be. you shake your head, peter says no for the both of you.

your doctor stands and warmly grabs your hand, then peter's and smiles once more. 'again, i congratulate you both. you're in for some of the best times in your life, and some of the hardest, but i promise you, that smile on your baby's face at six in the morning while you're exhausted will make it all seem worth it.'

carrying peter's child already makes it all worth it. he would've been as happy and content as you would've without kids, but you know how much he's always wanted them and this feels like the most ultimate act of love you could give him.

'thank you. we're really excited.' because you are. you both are.

---

the second peter opens the car door for you, you squeal and hold him close to you. 'you're gonna be a frickin dad. that's so hot.' you giggle at tender pokes at your side. 'you said the same thing when i proposed.'

'commitment makes you sexy, parker.'

'ditto, mrs. parker.'

#nerdy!peter

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

the girl next door 19

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You stare straight ahead, to humiliated to look at the man next to you. You haven't since you woke up.

You wallow in confusion, trying to piece together the void in your mind. It's all blank after the shower. No matter how much you try, it just makes your head hurt.

"You didn't eat much. You feeling okay?" He breaks the silence as he comes in view of the hospital.

"Yeah, not very hungry," you murmur.

"You know, I read the insert with the pills, that's one of the side effects. Plus it can really knock you on your butt. Must be what happened last night."

"Please," you beg; just the mention has you squirming.

"And fatigue can be a symptom of depression so that might also be why--"

"I'm sorry," you hide your face in your hands, "I don't remember. I don't want to talk about it."

"I told you, sweetie," he slows and finds a spot among the lot, "we just slept, alright? I just wanted to keep an eye on you otherwise I would've let you have the bed."

You curl your fingers and dig them into your eye sockets. He doesn't get it. She doesn't hate him.

"Please," you sniffle and sit up, "don't tell my mom.'

"Don't tell--" he hits the button to kill the engine and unbuckles his seat belt, "there's nothing to tell, right?"

"Yeah, but if... if she thought..." you stammer as you swipe away a glimmer of tears, "she's sick. I don't wanna m-make it worse."

"Alright, sweetie," he reaches between the seats and squeezes your shoulders, "it can be our little secret."

You nod a gulp. Your chest racks with the air trapped inside. He lets his hand brush down your arm.

"Sweetie, it's okay. I'm going to take care of you. You and your mom," he retracts his touch, "now let's go say good morning."

You undo your belt and get out as he opens the back door. He takes out the balloon and flowers he stopped to pick up on the way. He had you sign the card but your mom will know it wasn't your idea. You're too stupid to think of that.

You offer to help but he waves you off. You go through the visitor's entrance and up the elevator. He approaches the nurses' station and greets them easily. He makes you feel worse for how sure he is of himself. The world isn't scary to him. The world doesn't mind him being there.

As you get to your mother's room, you stop short. He nearly collides with your back and he chuckles.

"Here, honey, you take the flowers," he offers the bouquet, "she's going to love them."

You turn and take them without argument. They're your only defense. You enter slowly and Steve follows.

"Morning, honey," he chimes past you, "surprise!"

"Emf, Steve?" She gurgles as she turns her head one way then the other, "oh, Steve, you're here."

"Just like we promised," he goes to her and kisses her forehead then gives her the card, tying the balloon to the bed rail. "Brought some flowers."

"Shouldn't have done all that," she's back to her act, smiling for him as she sits up with an exaggerated effort, "I'll be coming home."

"I know, just wanted to brighten your day," he shrugs, "we were real worried. Both of us."

Your mother's eyes skim in your direction and narrow, "she didn't give ya too much trouble, did she?"

"She's perfect, hon," he assures. "Really, she's been a lot of help. I was in a state and she took good care of me."

"She did?" She wonders.

You try not to react. He's lying but you wouldn't want him to tell the truth. You just keep your mouth shut and come forward to offer the flowers.

"Here," you say, "love you, mom."

She takes them with a brittle silence then quickly resumes her preening, looking at Steve as she inhales the scent, "oh, so lovely." She lowers them and rests them on her lap, "you didn't happen to bring coffee? I'm dying for a cup."

"Ah, gee, you know, it slipped my mind," Steve says, "guess there were bigger things."

"I'll... I'll go to the cafeteria and get some," you offer and feel around your pockets. You forgot your change purse. Shoot. "Erm..."

"Here," Steve reaches in his back pocket, "it's on me. If you can grab me an orange juice and something for yourself. Thanks, kiddo."

He hands you a folded twenty from his wallet. You take it reluctantly and glance at your mom. Her eye twitches but she keeps a placid expression. You turn to leave as she quickly forgets you.

“I missed you so much,” she whines.

“I know, honey, but we should talk...”

Those words chase you out the door and prickle the hair along your neck. What are they talking about? He said he wouldn’t tell her.

You can barely see straight as you walk the halls, losing yourself several times before getting to the elevators. When at last you’ve reached the cafeteria, you struggle to remember what you’re there for. You grab the coffee and an orange juice and pay, keeping the change clutched tight.

You head back up, lightheaded from the motion of the elevator, and float through the halls, unseen and unbothered by the bodies around you. You feel invisible. Sometimes, you wonder if you’re even a part of the same world.

You stop outside your mom’s room, the door open.

“Steve, it’s a lot...” she mutters gloomily.

“Trust me, Holly, alright?”

You cough and step through. You put the coffee on the table near your mother’s bed and turn to offer Steve his juice and change. He accepts them as they both stay quiet, almost as if they’re not telling you something.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he speaks at last and tucks the money away, “you didn’t get anything?”

“No, it’s okay.”

You glance at your mother, expecting a gripe. ‘Good you don’t want her spending all your money’. She just reaches for the coffee, a tick in her cheek as she finds no sugar or cream with it. Another mess up.

“Well, I’ll go get the doctor, have him check you out and see if you’re ready to go,” Steve claps his hands.

“Sure,” your mother hums and pops the lid off her coffee, “you’re a life saver, honey.”

Steve drives you and your mother home, a layer of exhaustion settling around all of you. You don’t think your mother got very much sleep at the hospital and your own did little to nip away at your constant sluggishness. Even Steve yawns as he pulls onto the avenue and pulls into your mother’s driveway.

You get out as he helps your mother from the front seat. You trail them up the porch and skirt around to open the door. Even as you try to be helpful, you feel like you’re in the way.

Your mother’s hand is shaking pretty bad as Steve gets her into the recliner. You watch from the archway and wring your hands. It feels like forever since you’ve been home. The break in routine has you restless.

“I’ll stick around for a bit but I got a buddy stopping by later. I’ve been putting it off and he’s starting to get pushy,” he explains, “but you can always call me. Kiddo,” he stands straight, hands on his hips, “you got my number? So you can text.”

“I don’t have a phone,” you frown.

“I’ll call ya,” your mother insists over you.

“Okay, well, I’ll make you something to eat before I head out. Did they give you your meds at the hospital?” He asks.

You see your mom hesitate. She’s never been one to be coddled. She always told you to back off but with him, she can’t break the facade. Her cheek ticks and she flutters her lashes, her tremour worsening.

“Oh, Steve, I don’t feel so well. Do you have to go?” She moans.

“Honey, did you take your meds?” He repeats more firmly.

“Ugh, yes, okay?” She huffs and drops back on the recliner. “You don’t have to remind me I’m sick.”

Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head, “I’m making sure you don’t get worse. Don’t talk to me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she heaves and hides behind her hand, “I’m so stressed and it’s just... horrible to not be able to stuff on your own.”

“Doesn’t mean you get to take it out on everyone else,” he reprimands. He sounds mad. You’ve never heard him like that. “Look, I gotta get moving around here. You think about what we talked about.” He turns and winces as he sees you, almost like he forgot you. “Kiddo, why don’t you go chill out? It’s been a long morning.”

You nod and quickly retreat, thankful for the opportunity to be alone.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #the girl next door #series #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america #drabble

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zegrasdrysdale · 4 months

Note

Heyyy could I ask for an Ethan Edward’s fic where him and the reader have been together for about a year and a half or something and she unexpectedly goes into labour at the frozen four game, neither her nor Ethan had any idea that she was even pregnant.

[ a tiny surprise ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : Ethan’s girlfriend has to leave the Frozen Four game versus Boston College because she’s having intense cramps, but the biggest surprise of all time waits for her and Ethan when she gets to the hospital

warning(s) : labor and cramps, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of period

author’s note : i thought this would be a good request to tackle since it’s mother’s day. so anon and everyone, enjoy !! <3

༺═──────────────═༻

From the moment she woke up that morning, she’s been cramping. It wasn’t any worse than her normal period cramps so she took some medicine and went on with her day. There was some pain in her lower back though. She wasn’t worried that it was something else. Sometimes there is some back pain when she’s dealing with period cramps.

They eventually got to a tolerable level where she wasn’t curled up in bed anymore so she got ready for the Frozen Four game that Ethan and Michigan are playing in that night. She throws on the jersey that Ethan left for her, drawers a ‘73’ on her cheek right under her eye, then heads down to the lobby where she’s meeting the other girlfriends so they can head to the game together.

For a moment in the elevator, it feels like her uterus is stabbing her right in the gut. She winces and doubles over in pain with a hand flat on the wall. She lays a hand on her stomach and breathes out until the cramp passes. Sometimes they get painful like this.

Hopefully one of the girls has some medicine she can take in a little bit.

Once she gets to the lobby, the girls pile into the bus that they rented as a group since the boys had to go to the arena early. She sits with her arms crossed over her belly because the cramps are stronger than normal.

Rutger’s girlfriend, Kayleigh, sits next to her as the bus pulls out of the hotel parking lot. “Hey, are you okay?” she questions as she lightly rests a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t look very good.”

“I don’t feel very good,” she admits with a light laugh. “I think my uterus is trying to kill me or something. I’ll be okay for the game.”

Kayleigh laughs. “Oh, I get it,” she replies. “I have Advil in my backpack if you need it. I can grab you a drink so you can take the meds too.”

“Thanks, Kay,” she says with a small smile. “Mind if I take some now? I’m really hurting.”

She nods and grabs the bottle of Advil out of her bag. As soon as the pills are in her hand, Kayleigh grabs her small water bottle and lets her take a sip to take the meds.

The ride to the Xcel Energy Center seems like an eternity because of how much pain she’s in. She’ll just have to push through the pain until after the game because she just wants to support her boyfriend in one of the most important games of his life. The Frozen Four games are always important games. She wants to be there for him.

When the bus arrives to the arena, the girls walk inside together. There is a half hour until puck drop so the boys are probably warming up on the ice. Or they’re about to start warming up.

She sits in a seat until the boys start warming up. Even after the medicine she took, it feels like the cramps are getting worse and closer together. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Ethan would’ve understood if she told him that she wasn’t feeling good. She would’ve watched on the television in the hotel room.

As soon as the boys come out for warmups, she stands up and cheers with the other girls. Ethan skates by and she bangs on the glass, trying to keep a smile on her face despite her insides trying to kill her. Ethan looks at her with a smile on his own face as he warms up.

Then it feels like someone kicks her in the gut. She cries out in pain and wraps an arm around her stomach. Kay is right at her side. “Sit down for a second,” she orders. “I don’t think standing helps cramps. The Advil should kick in soon.”

“They’re never this bad,” she says. Her voice is so shaky. “I’ve taken so much medicine. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

There’s banging on the glass in front of her. She looks up and sees Ethan. “What’s wrong?” he shouts. His voice is able to carry over the glass because fans are still making their way to the ice from the concourse.

Kayleigh taps her stomach in response to Ethan. “Bad,” Kay yells back.

“I’m fine,” she reiterates. “Meds just need to kick in.”

“Are you sure?” Kay asks. “I don’t think he’ll be mad if you need to go to the hotel, or the emergency room since I think every urgent care in the area is closed now.”

She looks up at Kayleigh and Ethan. “The emergency room?” she questions. “They’re just really intense period cramps.”

Ethan points up the steps. “Go to the ER, baby,” he calls. “It’s okay. I know you’ll be watching.” With a frown, she shakes her head. “Please. You’re never in this much pain. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

Kay helps her stand up even though she doesn’t want to go. “I have her, E,” she calls. “Can you tell Rut?” Ethan nods.

He holds up half a hand heart. She holds the other half up before she and Kayleigh slowly make their way up the steps.

As soon as they’re on the concourse, another more painful cramp hits her. Her entire body shakes with pain and she groans. “Kay, hold on,” she begs. “I can’t-”

Something starts dripping down her leg, wetting her leggings. Confused, she looks down and sees a puddle at her feet. It’s clear fluid. She looks back up at Kayleigh.

“What is that?” Kayleigh asks.

“I don’t- ah!” she cries out in pain again. Her legs almost give out and Kayleigh has to hold her weight.

“Okay, I’m calling an ambulance,” Kayleigh explains as she sits her friend against the wall. “You’re in too much pain to walk and clearly something is very wrong.”

She nods as Kayleigh dials 9-1-1 and tells them what’s going on. Her entire body shakes and she has to curl up in a ball to elevate some of her pain. Some of the medical staff has come over to her to try and help. She’s in too much pain to speak.

When paramedics do arrive, Kayleigh manages to let her go to the hospital with them. She also has to do some begging, and she mentions that their boyfriends are on the ice at the moment and there is no one else to go with her.

She’s given some morphine on the ambulance, but it doesn’t do much. The ride is shorter than the ride to the arena from the hotel.

When she gets to the emergency room, they do an exam. When they poke at her stomach, they decide to do an ultrasound because of how ridged her torso is.

The doctor comes back with the machine and puts some of that cool gel on her belly. She grips Kayleigh’s hand as another cramp hits. She bites her lip and winces in pain.

“Miss, did you know you are pregnant?” the doctor asks after a moment.

Her eyes widen. “Pregnant?” she questions. “There’s no way. I still have a period and I never gained any weight. I have no belly.”

The doctor turns the screen in her and Kayleigh’s direction. On the screen is a full term baby. “That’s your baby,” the doctor explains. “And this baby is coming in the next hour or so. Your water has broken, which is what happened at the hockey game.”

“My baby,” she echoes. She blinks and begins to panic. “I have a baby? Oh my God. Ethan has no idea and he’s on the ice.”

Kayleigh asks, “Do you want me to call someone to get him so he’s here?” She nods. Kay disappears a second later to make a phone call.

As the doctor wipes away the gel, she says, “I’m going to get you admitted to the maternity ward and into a labor suite.”

“How is this possible?” she questions as the doctor pulls the jersey back down. “I mean, I had no idea. No signs.”

“It’s rare but it might be because you have two uteruses,” the doctor explains. “One continues to have a period and the other holds the baby. I don’t know why you didn’t show but it happens sometimes. Most women have a belly, some don’t show much or at all.” She puts away the wand and stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

She nods and rests her hands on her belly. Somehow, there is a baby in there. She had no idea that she was even pregnant. Neither did Ethan.

He’s going to be in for the biggest surprise of his life in a few minutes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She has never screamed more in her life than she has in the last hour. Her contractions, not cramps, are intense and close together. This baby is coming, and Ethan isn’t here yet.

Kayleigh got a hold of someone, who got a hold of Naurato, who told Ethan what was going on. He said he was leaving as soon as he could, but he’s still not here.

“Where is he?” she cries out as she feels a contraction. “I need Ethan. Now!”

“He’s on his way,” Kayleigh tells her. “He left during one of the TV timeouts. He should be almost here.”

Her OB is checking to see how many centimeters she’s dialated. “Okay, you’re ten centimeters,” she explains. “I can wait a few more minutes but this baby is coming.”

Another contraction and she screams. She grips Kay’s hand so hard she’s afraid she might’ve broken her hand. She feels bad but she needed something to hold.

“I need to wait for my boyfriend,” she pants as soon as the contraction passes. “Please.”

Her OB nods and leaves the room. She looks up at Kay. “Let me go see where he is,” Kayleigh tells her. “Give me literally ten seconds and I’ll be right back, okay?” She nods and breathes.

Kayleigh walks out of the room and she looks out the window. Looking outside helps her stay calm sometimes, even when she’s in sudden, active labor with a baby she didn’t know she was carrying.

Another contraction hits and she takes deep breaths. The door opens a second later and she’s ready to beg the doctor to wait for Ethan when she sees her boyfriend running in the room. He’s still in full gear, minus his helmet and skates. “Oh my God, baby,” he gasps when he sees her on the bed. “How is this-”

“I have no idea,” she replies as Ethan presses a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “All I know is that in a few minutes, we are going to have a baby. I’m scared.”

Ethan grabs her hand and kisses it. “I’m right here,” he assures her. “I’m right beside you through this, okay? I love you and I love our little baby even though neither of us knew.”

Her OB comes back in as she nods. “Are you dad?” her doctor asks. Ethan nods in reply. “Great. We need to push on the next contraction, okay?”

She grabs Ethan’s hand and sits up a bit. As soon as the next contraction hits, she pushes as hard as she can. She screams in a lot of pain since it feels like her body is tearing in two. Ethan has a hand on her back and helps her out. Kayleigh stands on her other side as she pushes.

When she takes a break from pushing, she looks at Ethan. “How are you guys doing?” she questions. “Are you winning?”

He shakes his head. “No, but it’s fine,” he tells her. “I’d rather be here with you. The guys told me to be here with you when Naurato told me what was going on.”

“Full hockey gear,” she teases him.

“I needed to be here for the birth of our baby,” he replies with a smile.

She smiles right back, but it’s short lived as another contraction hits. She pushes more. Her OB tells her to push a little longer.

Then the sound of a baby crying fills the room. She feels almost immediate relief between her legs a second later. She slumps back against the pillows as the doctor stands up with a baby in her arms.

“Congratulations, mom and dad,” she says with a smile. “You have a beautiful baby boy.”

She smiles at the crying baby as he’s handed to her. “Hi, baby boy,” she laughs. “You were quite the surprise.”

Ethan is given the chance to cut the umbilical cord and is right beside her. He puts a little blue hat on the baby’s head as he stops trying. She gives the baby her finger and he seems content.

The OB cleans her up a bit then takes the baby to clean him up. Her eyes never leave her son. “E, we don’t have a name for him,” she realizes out loud.

“We don’t have to think of one at this moment,” Ethan tells her. “I mean, up until an hour ago, we didn’t even know about him. I think we can take a day or two before we name him.”

She nods as her son is handed back to her. The OB leaves the room. Kayleigh snaps a picture of the three of them and says, “Sending this to Rut so he can show the guys. I think they’ll want to know that a future hockey star was just born.”

Ethan laughs and Kayleigh leaves the room to give them a moment alone with their baby boy. She caresses her son’s cheek and tears up.

“I already love him,” she admits. “This is our son, Ethan. We have a baby.”

He kisses the side of her head. “You’re gonna be the best mom,” he tells her. She looks up at him. Ethan wipes away the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “We’re going to be the best parents. The team is going to spoil him so much.”

“So are we,” she laughs as she looks down at baby boy Edwards. “We have nine months of lost time to make up for since he decided to be a little surprise.”

Ethan laughs and gives his son one of his fingers. “We do.”

༺═──────────────═༻

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daechwitatamic · 4 months

Text

Vice;Grip || chapter 4 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!!

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: language, recreational drinking, depiction of a panic attack, there is a quick moment where you can infer that reader thinks vernon might be actively su*cidal but that is not the case and this is not outright stated, nip stim, dirty talk, piv sex, reader has a high fever but no specific illness is mentioned, a (verbal) fight with some yelling

wc: 6700

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

5 months ago

Five texts went unanswered.

I’m sorry.

I was so fucked up, I wasn’t saying what I meant.

Call me so I can explain.

I’m really sorry.

Please, Vernon.

Each time, they delivered, but no response came. You thought you might feel better if he told you to go away. The silence felt too open, like nothing was settled. Like maybe you just hadn’t said the right thing yet. Like maybe you could - or should - keep trying.

Four weeks passed; you tried not to let it drown you, tried to tread above the rising water of the situation. You swam through guilt, your own anger, guilt again. The knowledge of what had upset him nibbled at your toes like fish you couldn’t see in the murky depths. You tried to pretend it wasn’t there, that it was only seaweed underfoot.

You tried to reason with yourself; you hadn’t done anything that bad. He’d been upset because you’d implied he’d get bored of you someday - even though of course he would - and he thought… you didn’t know, he thought that was an attack on his character?

(You knew that wasn’t why he was mad.)

Or, because you’d implied that he would leave, when you were the one who’d gone silent before? That was valid, you thought. You had been the one to make him chase, when your grey days swallowed you up.

(You knew that wasn’t the whole truth, either.)

You kicked at the fish, kept swimming on.

Three times, you found yourself on the brink of coming clean to Chan. The first time, it had almost escaped from your mouth, prompted by nothing but your own need to hear someone absolve you; you wanted to tell Chan I think I hurt him, so he could say, it doesn’t sound like it’s your fault.

Chan didn’t lie to you, though, even when you wanted him to. He wouldn’t tell you it wasn’t your fault, because it was. So, you tucked the words back in, zipped them up safely.

The next time, he’d asked - “You still… with that guy?” He’d made a vague hand motion that must have meant still seeing, or still sleeping with.

I messed it up again.

I think I liked him too much.

“It’s been like a month,” you said lightly, like it was no big deal. “We’ve been busy.”

His sideways look was scalding. Chan didn’t lie to you; Chan was used to you lying to him, knew all the signs.

He let it go anyway.

Maybe he knew those signs, too. Maybe he knew without you telling him that you’d let the bunny rabbit instincts win - that you’d hid, scared, the second your fragile, broken brain told you to.

The third time, you almost told him all of it, even that it was Vernon. Chan was having dinner at your apartment, helping you clean up after, when his phone buzzed on the table.

“Hey, hyung,” he’d answered, tilting his head to grip the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he ran water in the sink and started rinsing the plates. “Yeah, I’m in. I don’t know, probably in like twenty minutes? Fifteen if I make all the green lights.”

You listened absently as you picked up the rest of the table - napkins in the trash, utensils tight in one hand, now-empty wine glasses in the other.

“Oh,” Chan said, surprised. “Vernon, too? Nice. Should I stop for beer since there’ll be more of us?”

You dropped a wine glass. Chan helped you sweep, and then you ran the vacuum cleaner. Still, you kept finding errant pieces of glass for days. You carried them carefully to the garbage.

It felt fitting, that hearing his name had caused this.

Twice, you called and left voicemails.

Two days after the argument, you’d called on your lunch break. It had rang six times and then his voicemail picked up.

“Vernon… listen, I know I pissed you off. I’d really like the chance to explain myself when I’m not… you know. I didn’t say it how I meant it. Text me. Or call me, whichever.”

After the four weeks crept by and the rest of your texts went unanswered as well, you tried again.

It took almost a whole bottle of wine by yourself to work up the courage, and you hoped he wouldn’t hear the slur in your voice when you told him, “I don’t know why I’m even calling. It’s been a month. I hate that this is just… unresolved. I hate making people mad. I want to know that you know I’m sorry. I want to know that… well. I just… wish we were talking again. I don’t… I don’t know why I’m calling.”

You sat at the stool by your easel for the first time in years, tested your balance, tucked one foot underneath the way you used to. Your hands shook a little as you mixed a purple so dark it was probably actually just black. You covered the canvas, the color of nine at night in the summertime, and stared at it, watching it dry.

When you could, you switched brushes, used a rounder texture to form something that might pass as clouds along the mottled sky. Then, you painted a full moon; it cracked like an egg.

You liked this, you followed the idea, paintbrush hurrying to chase the inspiration, whites and yellows coloring in whatever it was that might leak from the moon like marrow.

The bottom half of the canvas became a moving, living ocean; the blues were eight at night in the summertime but they looked good together with the hour after. You finished with the moon’s reflective path, a jagged yellow streak that dipped and bobbed through the waves.

You walked to the bathroom and washed your brushes, leaving them somewhere to dry where the cat couldn’t mess with them. Then you went back to the canvas, staring at it from a few feet away, your hands on your hips.

You’d done it - you’d painted something you didn’t want to burn.

One painting, one tiny step back towards the life you’d lost - that you’d let yourself lose, that you’d definitively pushed away.

4 months ago

It rained for three days. You lit lamps during the day, suddenly craved soups even though it was the height of spring and the weather had been consistently warm for weeks. The rain just called for it.

It called for you to sleep, too, luring you into bed with a steady patter against the windows. You slept early, and deeply, the cat curled up near your head. The rain beat against the windows like a metronome, helped your heart rate steady, helped your thoughts slow and settle.

You slept deeply, the sounds of the rain pulling you under, and when you were startled awake a few hours in, it was with no concept of where or who you were.

Your phone was still vibrating, jarring; you scrambled to grab it from the nightstand and the cat scrambled out of the room.

Your mom, you thought wildly. Or Chan.

What else could it be, but an emergency? No one else called at three in the morning. Someone used to, but only on the weekend, and that person hadn’t answered you in over a month.

“H’lo?” you mumbled, eyes too blurry to see the screen. You closed them, pressed the phone tighter to your ear to hear better.

No one spoke, but you could hear breathing - ragged and unsteady.

“Hello?” you repeated, more clearly, starting to wake up a bit, starting to worry. You rubbed at your eyes, then pulled the phone away so you could see the name on the screen.

Of course it was him.

“Vernon?” you asked, like you didn’t believe the word on the screen, but you were met with only silence - even his breathing went quiet for a second, like hearing his name had caused him to hold it. Like he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted you to know he was there.

You said his name again, like a question, and it sounded like maybe he tried to speak but the noise - choked and quick - faded quickly. Your heart started to race, and certainty settled into your bones: something was wrong.

“Hey,” you said, a little sharply, like maybe he needed to snap out of it. “Are you okay?”

Finally, a word. “Dunno,” he managed, his voice thick.

“I’m coming there,” you said, already throwing the blankets off your legs and staggering to your closet to pull at some sweatpants. “Don’t leave, okay?”

“No,” he protested, but the way he gasped the breath after it cemented what you already knew - he needed you.

Or, he needed someone, and you were someone, and you would have to do.

“I’m on my way. Stay there, okay? Wait for me.” You were hopping on one foot as you said this, pulling clothes and shoes on, frantically reaching around in the dark for things like deodorant and car keys.

When he didn’t answer, you stopped moving, stopped trying to find your things. When you spoke again, your voice came out softer, a gentle plea instead of sharp instruction. “Hansol,” you said, quiet. “Wait for me. Okay?”

He ended the call without promising.

You stayed tucked into the building’s doorframe until you saw the Uber pull up; the rain was coming down in sheets, and you had to run to the car, splashing through still water until you could slide into the backseat. Your feet were soaked.

You spent the first five minutes of the ride wiping rain out of your eyes and trying to wring out the ends of your sleeves; the fabric clung to your hands, wet and cold. Outside the car, the rain water ran down the windows and the windshield wipers ran on the fastest setting.

im on my way, okay?

[ ]

vernon you’re scaring me

When the car pulled to a stop, you jumped out as soon as it was safe, bolting through the rain a second time and letting yourself into the building with the code you knew by heart. You took the stairs two at a time, heart flying. You were at once both scared to death of what you’d find when you got there, and refusing to put the specific fear to words, refusing to consider that it could be an option.

“Where are you?” you called, as soon as you got his door open. The apartment was mostly unlit, but for the light above the sink, and a dim light from the direction of his bedroom. “Vernon?”

You were met with silence and you almost choked on your heart as it climbed up your throat. You slipped off your shoes and made your way inside, heading for his bedroom.

You almost threw up with relief when you found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. The light you saw came from his bathroom - the door was closed almost completely, but light spilled out through the crack.

“What’s wrong, what’s happening?” you asked, inching closer. His hands were clenched into fists and bent back at an angle, veins raised along his tensed forearms. His breath went in raspy and came out in huffs, too quick to be productive.

You were pretty sure you knew what this was. You knelt in front of him, ran your hands over his tensed-up arms once, and then nudged under his chin gently with your forefinger, urging him to lift up and look at you.

He let you, his eyes faraway.

“Panic attack?” you guessed quietly. He nodded once, trying to tuck his chin back down, to look away and hide from the shame of this moment being witnessed - being recognized.

“If I put on my breathing app, will you do it?” you asked.

The sound he made was almost like a laugh. “I’ll try,” he muttered.

You opened your phone and set the app up, placing it on the bed beside him, the light from the screen tinting him pink. You heard the familiar, soothing voice begin to recite the directions, and you rocked back on your heels.

“I’m going to your kitchen real quick,” you told him, putting your hands on his knees to push yourself to standing. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll do the breathing with you in a sec.”

You shivered once as you stood with his fridge open; you’d been in his kitchen plenty of times, but never really perused on your own. Your gaze moved over beer and energy drinks, finally landing on juice. You slapped the bottle on the counter and rummaged in the closest cabinets until you found a glass.

Returning to his bedroom, you could hear your breathing app intoning hold… two… three… four… exhale slowly… two… three… four. It was hard to tell if Vernon was following - his head was still tucked, but his hands clenched and unclenched, like he was trying to return circulation after they’d fallen asleep.

You waited patiently until the breathing cycle ended, then nudged the glass into his hand. When he took it, you sat gently next to him, watching silently until he drank some.

“Where are you at?” you asked, and then started to explain what you meant.

Vernon interrupted; he’d understood the first time.

He usually did.

“Better,” he said, then added, “Not, like, better. But, better. Still buzzing.”

You knew the feeling - you tended to get buzzing in your legs first, then hands, and then it would crawl up your arms and into your chest if you didn’t shake it. When the attack receded, you usually felt it leave your chest first and then work its way slowly back down your arms.

“What usually helps?” you asked. “Is the breathing cycle better, or grounding?”

“Grounding, probably,” he said.

“Start by drinking some juice,” you instructed. “Then, can you tell me five things you see?”

“It’s dark,” he grumbled, but he brought the glass to his lips as requested. You rolled your eyes at his sass and walked over to turn on the lamp he kept on his desk. It cast the room in yellow, all the raindrops on the window suddenly catching the light.

“Now do it,” you said, coming back to sit by him again.

You heard him take a breath. He was better already - hands unclenched now, breathing still a bit quick but not raspy or gasped. “It feels silly to do out loud.”

“I’ll do it, too,” you said. “I see your laptop, your lamp, your cell phone, your dresser, and your very old and embarrassing Blink-182 poster. Literally, Vernon, is it 2003?”

He laughed, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re roasting me right now,” he said, voice still a little thin and breathy.

“Five things you see,” you reminded him firmly.

He huffed in mild irritation. “Hamper,” he recited, finally. “Shoes. Empty Red Bull can.”

You laughed.

“Cologne bottle,” he finished, then looked up at you. “Girl who came out at three in the morning, in the rain, after a month of not speaking, because she was worried about me.”

You spluttered. “I was not.”

He knocked his shoulder into yours playfully. “I have it in writing.”

You let out an indignant breath. “I should have let you suffer alone,” you muttered.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he admitted, then dutifully drank some more juice.

“Okay,” you said, remembering what you were doing. “Four things you can hear.”

He sighed. “Bossy girl,” he listed, and you whacked at his knee. “Rain. Aircon. Traffic outside.”

You finished the exercise together.

“Now how is it?” you asked, reaching to take his empty glass.

He flexed his hands in front of him. “Buzzing’s down to my hands,” he reported. “Think I’m past the worst.”

“How do you feel, otherwise?”

He grimaced. “Exhausted, honestly.”

You looked at the clock - it was after 4:30 in the morning, almost time for sunrise to begin.

“You should try and sleep more,” you said, starting to rise.

“Stay?” he asked, and you thought you heard a note of, well, panic in it. Like he was scared to be alone again.

Something inside you screamed and beat its fists against your insides, furious and terrified as it felt you melt into goo at his request. Something inside you knew that you were walking into a building on fire. But there was no way you’d stay outside, not now, not if he was in there.

“Of course,” you said, as if it was obvious, as if you stayed over all the time - as if this weren’t, in fact, a first.

He seemed to take in your appearance for the first time, the still-drying patches on your clothes, the goosebumps on your damp skin. “You’re cold,” he said, frowning, like you should have led with that as soon as you came in, handled your needs first.

“I’m okay,” you denied, but he rolled his eyes and leaned over the other side of his bed, coming up with a rumpled black hoodie.

“I promise it’s clean,” he said, a little sheepishly, and you pulled off your damp tshirt and tugged the hoodie over your head, instantly warmer and surrounded by his smell. He left for the bathroom, and when you heard the sink run and the telltale buzzing from his electric toothbrush, you got up and turned his lamp back off. When he emerged, you were under the blankets, huddled warm and cozy inside his hoodie.

When he climbed into bed, you draped yourself over him, a leg over his legs, an arm over his torso, your face pressing against his t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you lay in silence for a while, listening to the rain, awash in relief that he was okay - that you two were okay, that he’d let you back in even after you’d fucked it up.

Just as you were starting to drift a little, you felt his chest move under you, and he said, quietly, “I’m sorry for making you come out in the storm. In the middle of the night, too.”

“Don’t,” you said, shaking your head but not lifting it up to look at him. Your words carried out into the dark of the room. “You can call me. You can call me when you need me. I don’t care if it’s late. I don’t care if it’s… a hurricane, or whatever.”

It was too honest. It was too close to the truth. You shivered in the dark again, and you felt him hold you tighter for a second, as if to chase the chill away.

He let the moment go, didn’t chase it down and shine a light on it. But you know he heard you - you think, probably, he heard the whole thing, all the parts you didn’t say.

You waited in silence again, let the moment go, let the rain wash this away, too. Then, you ventured, “I’m sorry for what I said to you, last month. Really.”

You felt him nod above you. “I know. It’s… it’s okay.”

Is it? you wondered. But you didn’t push it - because you were scared that his forgiveness was fragile and might shatter if pressed, because you’d already admitted something you weren’t sure you’d meant to tonight, because saying anything seemed wrong while you were between his arms with the rain serenading you both from outside.

You drifted off; you woke up with his hands on your skin beneath his hoodie. You sighed, eyes still closed, as he refamiliarized himself with your body. You breathed in deeply when his fingers brushed up your stomach and found your breasts, teased over your nipples so lightly that it almost tickled, made you shudder in place.

You felt his lips at the nape of your neck, and that made you shiver, too. He pressed kisses along the tops of your shoulder as he teased one peak and then the other, finally giving in to your tiny, needy noises and rolling both buds between firm fingers. You moaned, long, feeling it pulled from deep within you until he let go, soothing over the spots with warm palms.

“Missed that sound,” he murmured against your back, and you pressed back against him desperately, suddenly sure that if he wasn’t inside you this instant you would completely lose it. You reached backwards, grabbing at his hips, trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you whined, hating it but knowing it was true anyway, the need larger than the embarrassment. You could feel him pressing against your ass, too many layers between you, and you shifted against him, hoping to spur him into action.

He hummed, pleased, and slid a clever hand back down over your stomach and past the waistbands of your sweats and panties, groaning low in his throat when he found arousal pooling between your legs. He barely bothered to work you open, likely feeling the same desperation you were after the time apart. You felt him shimmy out of his shorts, then his hands back on your skin as he peeled away your bottoms as well.

You kicked them off of your ankles and inhaled as you felt him slide along your slit, teasing at your entrance. He kept one hand up your hoodie, pressed against your chest to hold you tight against him, as he pushed into your heat one inch at a time. You heard yourself make a sound you couldn’t name, somewhere close to a whine, as you felt each bit of him rub against your walls as they struggled to adjust.

“Fuck,” he breathed, mouth close to your neck. “Tighter than I remember.”

He bottomed out and stilled, that one hand still holding you tight against his body. You closed your eyes and felt the moment: his heart beating against your back, your own pulse thundering through your limbs, your pussy pulsing around him as it adjusted and fluttered, his breath warm and steady on your skin, his hands soothing and grounding as they held you tight, the rain still falling steadily outside. You stayed still, eyes closed, as he caressed your hips, your lower belly, your thighs, as he pressed chaste and feather-light kisses along your shoulder.

Finally, he shifted, fucking into you in small movements, barely withdrawing at all before tilting his hips to push back in. You rocked back against him, silently begging for more.

He pulled out almost completely, and then slid back in; the sound you let out bordered on a sob, your nerves alight and sizzling as he began repeating the motion, each stroke slow and long, unhurried, burying himself as completely as he could. You floated like this, completely enveloped by him, still wearing his hoodie, as he took his time with you, until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

“More, Vernon,” you begged, “please.”

“As you wish,” he teased, and used his knee to move yours, bending your leg and hooking it up around his to open you up more, to give himself more room as he set a quicker, steady pace. Relieved, you matched his strokes, half-tempted to roll over so you could kiss him, but not wanting to lose even a second of the delicious feeling of him stretching you, of the friction that made your eyes want to roll back and your toes curl up.

It took you completely by surprise when he began pistoning into you, holding you in place by your waist, and a gasp flew from your mouth, morphing into a series of moans and cries as his hips battered at yours. Even more so when he grabbed at your thigh and tugged, rolling you onto your back and readjusting himself over you, slipping right back in as you wrapped your legs around him and tried to pull him closer.

His pace slowed only marginally as he grabbed at your hands and raised them above your head. Bent close over you, you finally got what you’d wanted the whole time - his lips finally found yours and you kissed hungrily as he fucked you deep. Above your head, you felt your fingers curl against his, lacing together. You squeezed his fingers tight when you came, his name slipping from your lips as your legs shook and your world went white. Vernon came with a cry, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched as he emptied himself in your still-pulsing heat, and then collapsed next to you, both of you panting.

“Shower?” he asked, when he’d caught his breath.

You tilted your phone so you could see the time. “I should probably just go home,” you admitted. “I have work.” This realization hit you - you’d gotten maybe four and a half hours of sleep, and not even all at once. Thank god it was Friday and you only had one day to struggle through.

He nodded, understanding. After you dressed, he wandered after you like a shadow. “You around tomorrow night?” he asked, and you could hear the effort to sound off-handed.

“Yeah,” you said, eyes flicking to his for a second. “Yeah, I’ll be around.”

When your ride pulled up and you stepped outside, you shielded your eyes from how bright everything was in the early morning light after days of gloom and clouds. Around you, everything glistened and sparkled, still wet from the days of incessant rain, as if everything you could see had been washed clean.

3 months ago

hi :]

what’s wrong with your face?

are you insulting my smiley?

again i ask you: is it 2003?

im gonna ignore that. come over?

can’t, sorry. i’m sick

whats wrong with u?

should i start listing?

ha ha. girl stuff?

vernon!!!!

lmao i mean if its not that i figured youd just tell me whats wrong

i have a fever, you ass

It was true - you’d carried your comforter from your bed to your couch that morning and had barely moved since. The cat was on top of your legs and you didn’t have the strength or energy to move him. Through the day, your fever had risen; you hadn’t helped things by refusing to get up, which meant you were probably dehydrated. As Vernon texted you, you took mental inventory of how badly everything on your body hurt - your limbs, your hips, everything ached. The pain in your head was sharp and bloody, and you felt like you were sweltering even though your feet were ice cold.

You felt too miserable to even watch a show; instead, you looked around your living room absently. You were pretty sure you were seeing colors off to the side, hazy swatches of red and blue.

Well, you thought dryly, that’s not good.

Then, your hallucinations took form, because the couch was dipping under you and someone was placing a cool hand against your head. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch just because the coolness felt nice.

“You need to drink something,” someone told you.

“I had the lemonade,” you said.

There was a pause. “I don’t… think there’s lemonade here. Hey - wake up and look at me.”

You blinked, and looked towards the voice. The world’s most beautiful man looked down at you, frowning.

“Wow,” you heard yourself. “You’re so handsome. What are you here for?”

He laughed. “I’m here to take care of you,” he said. “I’m bringing you water, okay?”

You frowned. “I don’t want water. My throat hurts. I want juice.”

There was another pause, and then the voice came again, from further away. “I’ll bring you juice, but you need to drink water now.”

Then he was back, snapping in front of your face. “Hey, look at me again. This is serious. Have you taken any medicine? I don’t want to give you double of something and overdose you.”

“I don’t think I’ve left the couch today,” you told him honestly.

“Okay,” he said, and you didn’t remember him moving or leaving but he was somehow pressing pills into your hand, waiting for you to place them on your tongue before handing you a plastic cup full of water.

“Drink all of it,” he instructed.

“You’re too pretty to be so bossy,” you grumbled around the mouthful of pills.

He waited until you drained the cup. “I’m going to go to the store,” he told you. “Can you think of anything else you need besides juice?”

You didn’t remember if you answered him, or even him leaving. You think you slept. When you woke, someone was rummaging around your kitchen.

“Chan?” you called, blearily.

Instead, Vernon poked his head around the corner of your kitchen, a grocery store bag hanging off his arm.

“Hey,” he said. “How do you feel?”

You blinked at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you doing here?”

His smile widened. “Your fever must be down a little. You need anything? You still want juice?”

You just stared at him, bewildered. He finished putting away a few more things and then came back out to you, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Definitely lower,” he said. “Do you have an actual thermometer? I couldn’t find it.”

“Yeah,” you said, still confused. “In my bathroom. Vernon, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Come on,” he said. “You should shower and put on clean pajamas and then maybe try to eat some of the soup I got.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I can shower,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can stand up that long.”

He held out his hand. “I’ve got you. Just a quick rinse.”

He helped you off the couch and into the bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet while he started the water and got it running warm, but not hot. You kept silent as he helped you undress, as he held your hand while you gingerly stepped over the bathtub’s lip, your legs aching.

“You okay?” he checked, once you were behind the shower curtain.

“Mhm.”

“Okay. I’m going in your room to get you clean clothes to put on.”

“Hurry.”

“I’m right outside. If you feel weird, just call me.”

You did okay, though, washing up and turning the water off on your own, reaching for the towel you kept on a hook. He came in when he heard the water change, and helped you dry off, his hands firm and his gaze gentle. Then he led you back to your bed, guiding you under the blankets.

“Do you think you could eat some soup?” he asked. “I bet you didn’t eat all day.”

You scrunched your nose. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

He shrugged. “It’s pre-made. I’ll heat some up.”

You tried to eat as much of the soup as you could, and then floated absently as Vernon cleaned up.

“Hey,” you said, struggling to sit up. “I don’t think I fed the cat tonight.”

“Tell me what to do,” he said, pushing on your shoulder to keep you from climbing out of bed.

“You can’t just- he’s particular - there’s a process -”

“Tell me the process, then,” Vernon said firmly.

Later, after he’d turned out all the lights, he came to the side of the bed and checked your temperature again - this time with your actual thermometer.

“I’m waking you up in three hours to take another fever-reducer,” he warned you, walking to set the thermometer down on your dresser.

“Okay,” you said, too tired to argue. You were already half-asleep as it was - you had no idea what time it was.

You barely registered it when he climbed into the bed next to you, just rolled over and buried your face in his chest, one arm reaching around his middle, already back under.

His alarm startled you both. You felt him pull away - you were sleeping in the same position, neither of you had moved - and then the alarm fell quiet.

“Medicine,” he said, starting to extract himself. You whined; you were comfy, and warm, and didn’t want him to leave.

“Don’t,” you whined. “Don’t leave.”

He laughed a little, a quiet huff of amusement. “I’m just going to the kitchen. Then I’ll be back.”

He watched you take another round of pills and drink half the water, leaving the glass on your nightstand. Then, as promised, he got right back in bed.

When you woke again, your bed was empty. And, impossibly, you felt both relief and disappointment. Then, from the living room, you heard a clatter and then a curse.

“Vernon?” you called.

Your bedroom door cracked open. Like a flash of lightning, the cat streaked into the room and under the bed.

“Sorry,” Vernon said from the doorway. “He was pissed that I wouldn’t let him in there with you. I wanted you to sleep. He was mutinying.”

You smiled despite yourself. “You didn’t go home?”

“Wanted to see how you were before I left,” he said. “You sound better. You look better, too - I mean, you looked really off yesterday. It was kind of scary.”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “Okay enough that I can keep my fever down by myself. I shouldn’t have let it get that high yesterday, I should have stayed on top of it.”

He looked at you for a long time. Then, he clapped his hand against your doorframe, as if he’d made a decision. “Okay. I’ll go home, I guess. Just… let me know if it gets bad, okay? And eat something. I bought stuff for you yesterday - it’s all in the kitchen.”

“Thanks for doing that,” you said, a little sheepishly.

“It was nothing,” he promised.

After he left, you stayed in the bed, rolling onto your side so you could smell the blankets where he’d slept. It helped you feel safer, like you weren’t actually alone.

It occurred to you that you’d spent the night together twice in a row, now. The rules were breaking - the rules were changing.

Your head pounded, and so did your heart. Nothing had ever been this frightening in your life, you thought.

2 months ago

Vernon saw you as sunshine - not like it was your demeanor, because that wasn’t true. More like - something he needed without realizing he needed it, something he realized he needed only in its absence. Something that made things better and brighter, something that could sometimes be too bright. Something that made the grey days feel greyer in a can you understand happiness if you never feel sadness kind of way.

He tipped your head back to kiss you, caught your bottom lip between his teeth, rolled his hips into yours, watched your hands clench into fists in his sheets.

He forgot himself a little; or maybe he just gave in to something he’d been holding back for months - maybe even a year. Something cracked, marrow slipped out of him, sluiced into the rocky ocean below.

After, he held you close, whispered, “Don’t go home. Stay. Jagi, stay here.”

And, he had to give you credit - you were at least honest. You at least told him your truth, in your own way.

“I can’t,” you said, and he knew you, knew how you meant it. He didn’t argue or call you back when you dressed, when you left again, just how you’d done things almost every time over the last two years.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t want you, maybe even love you, and only have parts of you. It was too hard, it wasn’t fair. Two years, and he had nothing to show for it. Maybe he’d find someone, if he wasn’t spinning his wheels with you.

He saw you like sunshine. Something that was missed when it was gone. Something that couldn’t be forced to stay, something that didn’t come when it was called.

1 month ago

You could tell that something was different. You’d been around Vernon plenty when he was low - this was different.

“You’re being weird tonight,” you observed.

His eyes cut sideways at you. He’d never looked at you like that - this was another clue. Then his face went flat again.

“I’m not,” he said, and you frowned.

“You are,” you insisted. “What’s going on? What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” he said, tone hollow.

“I’m not playing this game with you, Vernon!” you said, temper flaring. “If there’s a problem, you’re going to have to use your words and tell me.”

“I said there’s no problem,” he repeated, cool and even. Something inside you snapped tight, painful. You could feel it all coming to a boil right before your eyes - the way the boundaries had been shifting, the way he’d called you jagi, the way he’d looked when you’d walked away. It terrified you, made you want to show your claws, and it was infuriating that he was icing you out when you were ready to draw blood.

“Vernon!” you cried. “I cannot deal with this little apathy game anymore! I need you to engage here. I need you to care about something, and not just give me this expressionless, emotionless -”

“Care about something?” he thundered, wheeling on you. It startled you into silence. “That’s bullshit. Because I have been caring about you way more than I should, for ages now, and look what fucking good it’s done for me.”

Stunned, you blinked at him. Your heart pounded painfully, and your thoughts felt staticky and unclear. You needed to get away from him; you needed to process this in silence.

Finally, you spoke, your voice coming out tiny. “I’m going home.”

Vernon rolled his eyes, slapped his hand down to grab at his phone. “I’ll take you.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to.”

He ignored this, picking up his keys. “I said I’ll take you. It’s fine.”

You shouldn’t have followed him to the car. You shouldn’t have assumed he’d be mad for a few weeks and then get over it again, just like you two had done more than once now.

He drove you in silence, his face coming in fragmented pieces as he passed under streetlights. You were watching him, silently, when he finally spoke again.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, still perfectly even.

Tears sprang to your eyes before you’d even processed the sentence, something inside you reacting before your brain really knew what you were reacting to.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

You knew why.

He just kept driving.

“Pull over,” you demanded, suddenly furious, suddenly terrified, suddenly realizing you were losing him, right now, in real time.

He ignored you, didn’t even glance over at you.

“Vernon, I want to talk about this, pull over!” you cried, leaning forward in your seat, the seat belt tightening on your shoulder. “Pull over!”

Eventually, he listened, flicking on his turn signal and slowing as the car bumped off the pavement and onto the dirt shoulder.

“What?” he asked flatly, finally turning to face you.

“I asked why,” you said, heat laced through your voice.

He shook his head. “I’ve wasted two years with you -”

“Wasted?” you echoed, feeling the word like a punch to the gut. You felt like you couldn’t inhale.

“Well?” he asked, as if to say, well, wasn’t it?

“Fuck you, Vernon,” you spat.

“Fuck me is right!” he yelled, loud in the enclosed space of the sedan. “What are we doing? Just fucking, for eternity?”

You blinked at him. “You never asked me for anything else!”

“I tried,” he growled.

“Like hell you tried!”

“I did,” he asserted. “You ran, scared, every time.”

“Of course I was scared,” you snapped, because you couldn’t deny that one for a second. Your voice comes out choked. “I was right to be scared, and you know it!”

“Why?” he asked, the question falling between you, a landmine.

“Because,” you said seriously, the first tear finally falling. “This only ends one way.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away from you, out the windshield again. Then, he clicked on his turn signal again, shifted the car back into drive, and pulled back onto the highway.

“Yeah,” he said flatly, as the car met even pavement again. “You’re making sure of that, aren’t you?”

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thank you so much for reading! one chapter left to go!

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nztsume · 26 days

Text

• waiting for the big twenty-five •

homelander x you

{“Only one more year till the big 25. Aren’t you excited?”

This piqued at his curiosity. “What’s the big 25?”

Even if you’re just kind of a glorified baby-sitter, you just want to see him happy - instead, you accidentally make him worse.

read on ao3

------

Hi yall!!! The voices won and I finally ended up starting to write the young homelander fic of my dreams where we find out how he ended up being the deranged insecure insane man we know and love!!

In this one, you're Madelyn Stilwell's niece who works at Vought- and have striken an unexpected soft spot for the company’s latest investment- this insecure, shy but sweet young hero called Homelander.

Enjoy!

• 1 •

July, 2005

Every single day, at exactly 5.30 a.m., Homelander was to be awoken by the smell of coffee on his kitchen table. The coffee had to be fresh, beans grinded that same morning, no sugar, no milk, no exceptions. To accompany it, he was to have his pills: two of creatin– for muscle growth, three of protein- to feed them, a weight gainer– so he would stop being so lanky, and an extra dose of vitamin D, to fight those pesky pimples guys his age still got sometimes. All of them should be in a small container, so he could swallow them at once with his first gulp.

Next to his coffee and his pills, he was to have a folder with any relevant document for the day- interviewer’s questions and the answers he was to give, profiles of important people he would meet, scripts for any ad he was to film. All of that, including his schedule for the day- except that was to be read to him by you. This is how Maddie had told you it had to be done, and how you’d done it since day one.

You looked at your wrist watch, holding his coffee on your hand- piping hot, just how you knew he liked it- and you yawned, watching the thinnest clock hand go round it, as the last minute before you could walk into his apartment went by.

Finally, it was 5.25, and you could already walk in- so you did.

You weren’t exactly his maid- he had several of those, but none of them were to do anything to his apartment whenever he was around. He wasn’t to have much contact with the normal civilians, the normies- as Maddie called them. You preferred to reserve your opinions at that- your aunt had changed a lot since she had started working here.

What you were was Maddie’s secretary- and Maddie was Mr. Edgar’s secretary- or something. There was a fancier title for that, but you couldn’t recall it. All you knew was that she was aiming for vice-CEO or something, as it was the only thing she talked about whenever she dragged you to a bar after office hours, and insisted on drinking glass after glass of whisky.

As you finished setting things up, you appreciated the result- his cup of coffee, his pills, his documents and ah, a special surprise. One big, obscene chocolate cupcake, the kind where the chocolate topping is so rich that it spills and drips all over, with one beautiful strawberry on top, and next to it, one single candle. You weren’t sure if chocolate was his favorite, but you knew he had a bit of a sweet tooth- so he’d appreciate it, at least some.

Finally, you took out your red lighter and lit the candle- and less than twenty seconds later, you looked up- and there he was.

"Good morning, John.”, you put the lighter back on your blazer’s pocket, smiling at him.

He blinked- eyes still not fully alert, as he scratched them. They were boring holes into the chocolate cupcake, and you couldn’t help to smirk a little- you knew he’d be interested in it.

“Is that for me?”, he asked, surprised, almost like a child- and you laughed. Ever since you’d met him, about five or six months ago now, you’d felt like he was younger than his actual age- there was something about the way he stood in the middle of his own massive penthouse, like a kid lost in a big, elegant furniture showroom. Alone, quiet and shy, even when wearing his own super suit. It didn’t help that it was actually way too big for one person, with its tall, tall roofs, marble everything and sleek furniture- much less for an overworked twenty-something with no time for a social life.

“Of course.”, you assured him. “It’s your birthday after all, right? Happy 24th!”

He pressed his lips awkwardly, trying to contain a smile- but that didn’t work, as he let out a laugh, and finally came to the kitchen island, almost a skip on his step. You couldn’t help to be glad- finally this kid was getting some happiness in him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.”, you said, sarcastically, as he went to town on the cupcake, taking big bites out of it. He stopped for a second mid-bite, mouth full of chocolate, to look at you with a smile- and there was a gleeful glint in his eyes. Actually, that was enough of a thank for you. Anything that made that perpetual sadness that he always seemed to hold go away, even for just a few minutes, was worth it. You laughed at him. “Okay- just go for it. But don’t forget your pills!”

“I can’t believe it- this tastes so good!”, he finally said, after taking another bite- in less than thirty seconds he had eaten half of it. Unbelievable! “Best birthday gift ever!”

“Oh- shush.”, you crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter, watching him take a big gulp of coffee. “Just wait until you see what Maddie has gotten you- it’ll blow your mind.”

“I don’t think it’ll be better than having chocolate as breakfast.”- he set the last bite of the cupcake aside, finally taking the pill container, and eyeing them with disgust. You sighed- perhaps if they let the kid eat his breakfast he wouldn’t need those nasty pills- it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to burn it off in the training center literally thirty minutes later. You didn’t know much about supe genetics, but they couldn’t be too different from normal people’s, right?

You yawned again, this time covering your mouth to the side, as you let him have the rest of the cupcake and his coffee. You liked to give him some minutes of silence so he could enjoy it properly- you knew that that’s how you liked it when you had yours.

This morning in particular, you just wished you had gotten to drink your coffee alone- but your fiance was just arriving from a shift at the E.R., and you had to deal with his graphic description of a dick that had been cut in half by a broken wine glass. You were still trying to forget about it. At least you lived close enough to Vought- just a ten minute subway trip away - so you didn’t have to wake up much earlier than that. It was just lucky you knew how to do your make-up on the move, another time-saving skill you’d learnt in your college years.

You heard him drinking the last of his coffee- doing that big slurp noise he always did, and you finally decided to take the document with his schedule- ready to tell him about his day.

He was tired -he always was, but today he seemed particularly so, even behind the hint of a smile the cupcake had left him with. You could tell by his posture under those cheesy button up burgundy silk pajamas, shoulders too slumped, hips rested against the counter. You weren’t surprised- according to Maddie, ever since they’d debuted him close to two years ago to the public, he’d been worked non-stop. It was only time until he broke, you thought- but you could never say it to her. Your aunt had always been too good at pushing people further than they could reach, and too good at seeing only ahead of her; John was just another one of her subjects.

“Alright”, you finally said, seeing the subtle move of his shoulders straightening at your voice, “Ready to hear about your day, birthday boy?”

He groaned in response, the hint of his smile completely being wiped away, “I guess…”

You pressed a smile for him, but mentally frowned reading over his schedule- he was packed, of course. “What’s that? Not excited about being 24?”, they’d even put an interview right after his birthday celebration- his 1 hour long birthday celebration. They as in Maddie and Mr. Edgar. “Only one more year till the big 25. Aren’t you excited?”

This piqued at his curiosity. “What’s the big 25?”

“It’s when your brain finishes developing.”, you replied, remembering the information from back in the day, when you were still trying to get your Psychology’s degree. “Your frontal cortex- the one in charge of your personality and all- it stops growing at around 25 years old. So you get only one more year of acting like a dumbass without people holding it against you.”, you added that last one joke to make him laugh- it worked. He wasn’t used to people throwing curse words around him. “Congrats!”

“Just one more year, huh?”, he said, more seriously than you expected. “That’s kind of sad.”

“No way- it’s great.” you shook your head, “After 25… it’s like your brain rewires. You’re not embarrassed anymore, you get some self-esteem back from when you were a kid.”, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, remembering how stupidly shy you were back when you were his age. It wasn’t that long ago, really, just four years- but it felt like another lifetime, somehow. “10 out of 10, if you ask me. Anyway–”, you gave one more sigh, before turning your attention back to him, “Let me tell you about your day. So- it officially starts at 9.10 where you- oh. I didn’t know this. You’re getting a new suit!”

His eyebrows rose, “I thought that wasn’t until September.”

“Hmm, maybe they wanted to launch it at today’s park inauguration for your birthday- which is at around 11.30, by the way. So you get your suit fitted and all, then it’s an one hour drive, and then the inauguration. After that, lunch, and after…”, she frowned. “You have to have tea with- with Margaret Pataki and her friends ...?” , no way they were making the kid spend his birthday with a bunch of rich old ladies that wanted to get in his pants. You couldn’t believe Maddie. What in the world could have they offered your aunt to get the privilege of The Homelander’ s time on his birthday? Unbelievable. You huffed. “Well… too bad you have your weekly marketing meeting. You’ll have to miss it.”

“I thought that wasn’t until Thursday.”, he frowned, but there was a hint of relief behind his confusion.

“It’s not-”, you shot a look at him, “But you should get to rest for a couple hours on your birthday, don’t ya?”, you winked at him- and then moved on, before he could protest any further. Better not to think about it too much, or you’d get extremely mad at your aunt. “And then… your birthday celebration!”

“You’re coming, right?”

You looked up from the paper, surprised at his sudden intensity as he cut you off. You found those crystal blue eyes boring at you- like you were another cupcake, expectating of your reply.

“ ‘Course.”, you simply smiled- surprisingly secretly pleased. You liked him- he was a nice guy, behind all the pizzazz that Vought put him through in front of the cameras. Perhaps too nice, in your opinion- there was some trauma somewhere in there, you could tell. But you didn’t weren’t close enough to him to recommend therapy or something, although you had suggested it to Maddie… who obviously shrieked at the thought of their golden child going to the shrink. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Johnny.”

“Thank god-”, he sighed, rolling his eyes in sass, “If I have to deal with Stan or Madelyn or any of the other old farts there by myself, I’ll laser my own foot.”

This made you laugh. It always surprised you whenever he showed a bit of bite, as it seemed like whenever he was with Maddie or Edgar, he seemed like the best behaved pupil in the boarding school- and whenever he was in front of the public, he was an absolute boy-scout. “Oh- come on. I’m sure Noir’s gonna be there too. I’m not your only friend here, you know?” She hoped so, at least. John seemed to like Black Noir, although his presence in the Vought building was far and apart, since they hadn’t officially re-debuted him under the company’s name yet.

He shot you one last skeptical look before taking the folder with the rest of the documents- this was your dismissal, and you took it. It was ten to six, and he had to be in the training center soon.

“Anyway- I’ll take my leave. Maddie’s probably sent me my tasks for the day already.”, you heard a low distracted hum coming from him, already walking to the door. Before you left, you peeked at him one last time, before saying: “Happy birthday.”

He looked up just as you waved, and there was a hint of a smile in his face- good. You smiled back, and finally, slammed the door closed.

When you worked at Vought- more specifically, in their superhero division, every single day felt like standing in the middle of the sea during a storm- wave after wave of issues and tasks coming at you, suffocating you at times. Truth be told, you weren’t supposed to be working there- you were far too unqualified, both emotionally and academically.

When your aunt Maddie had found out about your mother’s disease, she, of course, had refused to help her. She had always been resentful at how resentful your mom had been of her, at how she had chosen a professional life path while your mom chose to have you at just seventeen, dropping out of school to form a family. Just your average sisters’ feud, splashed with just a bit of new wave feminism and abandonment issues. However, knowing you had dropped out of college, Maddie was kind enough to offer you a job in her workplace- none other than Vought Enterprises. Big shot shit.

She had told you that she wouldn’t make any promises, she wouldn’t work with you, and she wouldn’t slide you in with the big supes, where she worked. She had hustled her ass off to be where she was- she wouldn’t let your wormy little self run on the path she had so laboriously paved. You were okay with that- any corporation job would pay more than what you were doing in the dingy bar downtown where you’d been working since you dropped off college. Besides, you knew your aunt had never been all there- the love-hate she always showed you wasn’t personal, it was just a thing she did.

It didn’t help that you weren’t even more than seven years younger than her, so a lot of your childhood memories involved playing with her teen self. She was more a cousin than an aunt, to be fair. So there were a lot of things you could easily let slide- her insane mood swings was one of them. You knew she meant well- behind all of her power plays and degradation.

Either way, that didn’t end up happening- you working for a less important division, like pharmacy. As soon as she suggested Mr. Edgar to give you a job he was into the idea- he liked to keep things between family. And in hindsight, it was understandable. The things that happened behind the scenes for supes weren’t half as glamorous or exciting as they seemed to be on camera.

This morning had been particularly busy, the waves of work slowly turning into a tsunami, as Homelander’s birthday was a top priority for the entire department. He was the star, after all- had been for almost three years now. He was Vought’s face and voice, their personality. The bright eyed, all-american, charming, strongest to ever exist superhero. America turned into the shape of a man. Everything they’d ever dreamed, they were training into this twenty-something-year-old. Any excuse to celebrate him was good enough for them- because it was as if they were celebrating Vought itself.

That’s why you’d been running all over New York the entire morning. The tailor had managed to mismeasure John’s shoulders, somehow, and they needed two more of the handmade eagle feather golden shapes that went… well, you didn’t know where they went. You had only gotten the gist of it, along with a brown envelope to take to the goldsmith- any goldsmith that would get them done before 11.30 a.m., when Homelander was supposed to debut his new suit to the world, to mark a new era or something.

Luckily, it was 11 sharp as you ran through Vought’s main hall’s doors, and 11.04 as you knocked the costume division’s door on the 45th floor. You were breathless, knowing that he had to be on the other side of the city, to Fort Lee in less than half an hour- although seeing how tight they were, he was probably going to fly to the inauguration. The city council had granted him his very own children’s park after he’d saved a school bus from sinking into the Hudson a month ago, and they had chosen to inaugurate it the very day of his birthday. As if he had nothing else to do on that day.

Maddie opened the door, blonde waves all over the place, breath ragged. You knew the signs, she had been yelling at someone- and you were lucky it wasn’t you. You saw a flash of dark blue somewhere in the background and you knew it was John- and your curiosity was piqued. Would the new suit be too different? At least it seemed they’d keep his colors.

“Where are they?”, your aunt demanded.

Wordlessly, you took out a fancy necklace case out of the bag you were holding, “I had to find a different place- our goldsmith was taking too long to decide whether he could do them or in time or not.”, you explained, as she snatched it off your hands and opened to inspect them. While she did that, you subtly went on your tippy-toes, trying to catch the new suit without her knowing. “I think they look just like the mold-so…”

“Perfect.”, she concluded, slamming it closed, and she took one look at you, with those severe eyes of hers. “Go to the 72th. They need help with the party.”

After that, she slammed the door on your face. Oh well- you’d see it later, hopefully.

—

The 72th was a mess- as it always was, since it was the floor where most Vought only parties were held, the ones no outsiders should know about. Before, you would have thought that that meant something sexual- perhaps some sort of massive over the top superhero and congressmen orgy, the kind conspiracy theorists would talk about- but soon you found out it was not the case. Rather- it was the kind of party where millionaires would get drunk and discuss whether bombing another South Asian country would make them profits or not. You didn’t know which of the two types of parties were worse.

This time, though, at least the purpose of the preparations was much more innocent- just a small party for every person in Homelander’s life to celebrate him and his birthday. It was kind of impressive so many people showed up, in your opinion. It was the 4th of July, after all- most everyone would choose to celebrate it with their families at the park- or even just watch the fireworks from their TV at home. Instead, about twenty or more people were there, running around with you- decorating, inflating balloons, making every cookie in the dish look beautiful and photogenic. All for him- everyone wanted him to be pleased. You were sure that as long as he was allowed to eat enough of them, he’d be just as happy.

One thing you ended up noticing about the attendees was the variety, or more like, the lack of thereof. Most people there were some of Vought’s scientists, the ones you only knew of by their pictures on the Vought’s Best wall. You wondered what they had to do with Homelander, or if they were there just for protocol. Maybe these were the kind of people Edgar wanted him to surround himself with. Important people- people who did good for humanity.

And no, no Black Noir to be found.

Interestingly enough, even they were helping with the organization. Perhaps they were close, you wouldn’t know. You didn’t know much about John’s past aside from what you’d figured out by yourself- and what the public knew.

Either way, he was about to arrive, and you were to get Maddie’s gift ready for him. The box was a bit too big for it- but it needed the space, you guessed. You just wondered if the box was necessary at all.

Somebody heard the elevator sound starting to ding up- and began shushing everyone, as they started crowding around the room, hiding the big table with the cake and different foods that they had set up in the middle of the room behind them. You, of course, didn’t want to steal any spotlight from someone who could actually be important to him, so you placed yourself to the side, excited for him to arrive. You knew he was going to love this; he loved attention- even affection, as much as he tried to hide it.

The elevator finally dinged on their floor, and the doors opened, and-...

“Happy birthday!”, everyone shouted- only for Maddie to come out, her heels clicking as she saw on her that particular face she made when she scolded someone- her words drowned by their scream. Everyone made a confused noise- wasn’t it supposed to be…?

Then- a massive spot of blue walked in- a young man with wide shoulders, an unhesitant stroll and perfectly coiffed blonde hair- clad in an imposing red and blue suit. Homelander.

You began singing Happy Birthday- loudly, completely drowning everyone’s confusion and whatever Maddie was nagging the young supe about- and everyone was super quick to join. And you had the pleasure to see John’s face go from a slight frown to a bright expression- as everyone sang for him- claps and even stomps to go with it.

But… there was something off in his smile as he started recognizing the faces around him. You saw his eyes go through every person in the room with a strange restraint- like he was holding back something. Then- they fell on you, and they stayed there, somehow, it seemed that it made that off feeling fade off. You clapped and sang more excitedly.

“Happy birthday, dear… John-Homelan-Johnny !”, everyone laughed, as nobody quite knew how to address him, “Happy birthday to you!”

You saw him laugh- eyes looking around in surprise at the decorations. Everything was red, white and blue- with lots of golden details, that had been your touch. They were the expensive kind, but anyone could tell they weren’t set by professionals. You thought it added a homey touch that he’d enjoy- and he did, as he quite didn’t know what to do with himself, with his hands, as everyone clapped and whistled for him.

“Oh-!”, he finally said, “Thank you- thank you, guys!”, he was trying to play it cool, calming them awkwardly.

After that, the short event officially started. The attendees started mingling amongst each other, coming up in groups at times to talk to John, who seemed more interested on whatever was going on on the food table. You had caught him eyeing it from time to time whenever he was left alone for a second or two, as if he was deciding whether he could have a treat or not .

Meanwhile, you were busy guarding Maddie’s gift- which was secretly the only reason you were here at all. Not by your own volition, of course- you’d obviously come to John’s party if it was up to you. But… somehow, you felt that without your aunt’s express invitation it would have created problems for you. Sometimes it felt like Maddie got insanely possessive of the kid- as if anyone could come and snatch him away from under her management and steal her progress doing that. You didn’t quite know- all you really knew is that whenever you made a small observation, offered a small detail you’d noticed about him, she responded incredibly bad.

It wasn’t too bad, though. At least you were saving yourself from awkward conversations with strangers- plus, sometimes John caught your eyes and smiled at you. He had even tried to make his way to you a couple times, always interrupted by a new group of people who called for his attention.

He looked good in his new suit, you had to admit. A far cry from the leotardish one-piece he had before- that only worked to accentuate his still teensy physique, still too skinny and lanky for what he was supposed to be Edgar’s final vision of him- this new suit was magnificent. It looked like it was a two piece, for once- which he was probably thankful for- held by a strong golden (gold?) belt, and a high collar, covering just enough of his neck to draw attention to the slight v line it formed. He had some padding, she knew that- but it was just enough, not to transform his actual size, but to accentuate it. He looked more mature, more secure in his skin, and it showed - even if just a little bit.

Either way, you could hear her gift getting more and more agitated by the minute- so it was a relief when you heard her voice loud, commanding everyone’s attention.

“Let’s open your gifts, John.” Maddie said, coming up from behind and slapping a hand on his shoulder, making him jump a little.

The party moved to the gifts table, where a small pile laid. You dutifully took the box you’d been guarding on the corner of the room and started walking it by it with a bit of difficulty, mostly because it kept moving all over the surface- but also because it was making your nose itch.

By the time you had gotten there, John had already started opening some of his gifts. Someone got him an insanely expensive wine you knew he wasn’t even going to try, and someone else a piece of pottery. It was hard to make someone like him a gift- what could you even get someone who could have anything? Not that John ever asked for anything, though. But he could- and everyone was aware of that. Vought made sure they were.

As soon as Maddie saw you with the box, she took it from your hands and walked up to him- and the second he turned to it, his face illuminated.

“A dog?!”, he took it from her almost immediately, sitting on the floor with it on his lap- hands fighting to open the wrapping as soon as he was settled.

“Oh John!”, Maddie scoffed, annoyed, “You spoiled it for everyone else!”

He didn’t seem to hear her though- entranced on the unwrapping, and you couldn’t help to hold your hands together on your chest, excited with anticipation. You were sure he was going to love it.

And as soon as the little guy jumped from inside the box- you know he did.

“Oh, lord!”, he exclaimed, as the small dog started barking and twisting in his grasp- as excited to see him as he was, its tiny tail wagging so hard it was moving its entire little body with it. “Oh, my god!”

The dog, a small Jack Russel with a big, brown spot over one of his eyes, barked excitedly, and you were sure you could see John’s eyes shining with tears, sat on the floor while everyone else aww’d at them. You could tell that- for once- he had forgotten about the people around him, as he let the puppy jump on his legs, on his chest, licking his face, sat back on his hands, as if he was stopping himself from squeezing the little thing. He was happy, so happy , and the dog was too.

“I can’t believe it!”, he gasped, again, as he finally decided he needed to pet it, getting rid of the thick gloves that his new suit had, grabbing it with both hands. The puppy barked at him, tongue out, and a laugh escaped from his mouth. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen in my life !”

The puppy wriggled its way out of his grasp, and jumped at his face again, licking him- and everyone aww’d once again and clapped. You finally unglued your eyes from the adorable scene to your aunt- and she looked incredibly pleased with herself. You would be too, this was probably the first time you’ve seen him actively elated.

Suddenly, she was startled by something- and you saw her hand going to her blazer’s pocket, picking her cellphone in a second. As she walked away with it, you took a step closer to him- and he turned to you.

“Did you know about this!?”, he asked, incredulous, fighting against the dog’s excited licks, “I can’t believe it!”

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as you saw him. “Obviously. I went to pick him with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest- still remembering the horrors of the testing lab you’d gone get the poor dog from. It had been a month ago, and the dog had stayed with Maddie until now, “He was not the youngest puppy in the uh- adoption center but…”

“Shush, he’s perfect.”, he interrupted you, holding it to his chest, and turning to you, “What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure actually-”, you turned towards where your aunt had left- and you saw her smiling into the phone, a small skip on her step- and you knew that body language. She was sucking up to someone on the other end of the line. “We could ask Maddie if she named him when she comes back.”

But as you said that, Maddie actually came back- almost running in the short steps her heels allowed.

“Let's get this over with”, she whispered to you, as she walked by you taking over the center of the small round that Had formed around him, “Hey, everyone! Let's cut the cake!”

Everyone agreed happily- but you frowned, running to follow her as she went to the food table, already starting to make space for it. You knew that this was supposed to come at the end of the party, but not even half an hour had gone by yet- what was she doing?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John's eyes shoot from you to her to Edgar, as he as well tried to figure out what was going on.

“Maddie-”

“Seems like his birthday interview got delayed a couple hours”, she whispered to you excitedly, almost like a secret, “Guess who'll get to make up for his fatal mistake of not seeing Mrs. Pataki and her friends!”

A sense of disgust immediately took over your stomach, as you realized why she was so happy. She was making John spend time with those women after all- she was going to get him to butter them up for Vought On his own fucking birthday.

“Go help with the cake.”

You felt sick.

Behind you, you heard John approach and Madelyn’s arm immediately shoot to get a hold of his forearm and guide him to the center of the table, the dog still in his arms.

Suddenly, a lot of things started happening simultaneously. Edgar was on the scene now, - a cameraman that you’d seen wandering about the event next to him - finally caring about this party at all, as he seemed to be giving him directions about how to encapsulate the happy event.

Maddie, on the other hand, stood next to Homelander- whose eyes seemed far, as he heard whatever she was telling him, his lips pressing in some sort of emotion you didn’t have time to figure out, eyes looking far away from the scene unfolding. You got closer, as you started fixing the cake decorations, and got to hear some of it.

“And you'll show off your fucking new suit and tell her ‘ You like it, Margie?’ like she's the woman of your dreams, okay? She needs to go home and tell Pataki that Vought's doing great things while she considers divorcing his ass. You need to make up for the time you made her lose, John.” she was instructing right next to his ear, and he seemed more out of it by the second, “You'll be so fucking sorry to her she won't doubt for a second that you made a honest mistake with your schedule.”

People started gathering as well- their loud chatter surrounding them like a massive beehive, buzzing so close to the table it was even starting to make you dizzy and desperate, as you fought to make one of the star decorations stay up. One of the scientists came up to you with a lighter, offering to turn the single candle on and you nodded, mindlessly as your focus kept shifting to him, and the way his gaze dissociated more and more- and you were actually worried now. You’d never seen him like this, not this badly.

“Homelander!”, Edgar called, his serious nasal voice adding a new layer to the buzz, just like the scientist's lighter he couldn't get lit on. “Move one step to the left and turn a little, the lighting's bad there!”

“Seriously - apologize like a fucking dog, you hear?”

“Fuck”, you cursed under your breath- snatching the lighter yourself and trying- getting to turn on.

The camera started snapping- and it added another layer. A group laughed loudly in the background. Edgar kept giving needless instruction. The dog started wriggling, running out of his grasp. Madelyn kept barking into his ear.

“You'll lick her feet- and…”

And you could almost hear it before it happened.

“Madelyn, I fucking GET it !”

The loud high sound- the sound his lasers made.

The crowd gasped, shocked- but more importantly, the dog started fucking screaming in pain.

“Oh- no!”

Someone screamed- and all hell broke loose. John ran from the table to the side- where his laser had left a dark, charred line that ended with… with the poor puppy laying on the floor, bleeding and crying. You ran after him.

“Oh no- no, no, no, no…”, he was on his knees, and you fell next to him as he whispered the words to himself, holding the poor thing as it wriggled, its loud shrieks vibrating in your ears. His hands were starting to get covered in blood, and its fur was so bloody- flesh so mangled you couldn't make sense of any of it. “No- please !”

You were speechless, shocked, and the blood was draining from your face by the second. “It was an accident!”, you were immediate to comfort him, but his eyes were glued to the animal- unable to think, to do anything, “It was an accident, John, and-and…”

You looked around- but nobody thought like you- nobody else was stepping up to comfort him. Instead, everyone stared in… fright , taking fearful steps away from the scene like he was a monster- and that made you so insanely mad.

“I-I killed him!”, he exclaimed in horror. “Oh, God, I fucking killed him!”

“ No, you didn't! ”, your hands went to his shoulders, shaking him a little as his eyes filled up with tears- and your heart was going a mile a minute, “He's crying ! He's still alive!”

“N-no, no, I-”

“John!”, Maddie’s voice shouted- and you looked up to see her walking to you, angry, as she got out of her shock, “What the hell was that?! Are you insane?! Are you retarded ?!”

He turned slightly to her, eyes full of tears and remorse and pain- and you couldn't take it anymore.

You stood up like a spring and took a step between them.

“Madelyn!”, you looked at her in the eyes, heart still drumming, “ Are you fucking serious?!”

You saw her eyes widen and her mouth fall open.

She started sputtering your name, visibly shaken. You'd never ever had spoken like this to her. She was always the one that was right, the one whose decisions just weren't questioned.

“Y-you stay out of this!”, she finally managed, and tried to push you to the side- but you slapped her hand away.

“No, I won't! Not this fucking time, Aunt Maddie.” you stood your ground, stomping a foot.

There was a rage in you burning- and you instantly realized this wasn't just about this, right now. This was a rage that had been slowly burning- building up these last six months as you'd witnessed how they treated this kid, how they exploited every single second of his time. How tight his leash was. How simply sad and alone he looked all the time.

It had been burning since your mother had been diagnosed with that heart condition- and how ironically heartless her sister had been to her. How she'd offered you the job the same way someone offers leftovers to a starving stray dog, and how you had to swallow your dignity and take them.

It had been burning, you'd even say, after the first day Maddie had started this fucking job, and how she blew you off when you went to her apartment with a cake you'd made her to celebrate it- saying she had coworkers over and she couldn't deal with a child like you here, too, as if they were too important for you to even see them.

She growled your name one last time, “You're about to lose your job.”

“Then fucking do it, Maddie.”, you hissed back, feeling venom in your voice, “Fire me. Fire me! Who wants to work in a company that depends on how much they can exploit some twenty-year-old, anyway? Oh, but the second he makes one mistake you all look at him like he's a monster, right?!”

You couldn't help to turn around, including everyone in your rant now- every single person that was important in John’s life, who was looking at him like he was going to laser them next. Him, who was still holding onto the crying puppy, hands drenched in his blood.

“Don't look at him like that! God- look at him ! He didn't do it on purpose! You all pushed him to do it!”

You felt frustration building in you- as your eyes started to burn as well, angry. No, you couldn't let yourself cry, you needed to speak up!

You saw Maddie about to say something else when someone took a step forward- Mr. Edgar.

“Okay, okay everyone…” he had his hands raised up, voice infuriatingly calming and imposing. “Let’s calm down. You-”, he pointed at a random woman, who jumped at his calling, “Take the dog to the fifteenth, there must be a vet somewhere there.”

The woman quickly stepped forward- a middle aged with a messy bun hanging off of her head- arms in front of her, ready to take the still wailing dog from John while putting the most distance from him she could. Your eyes followed the movement as he extended the creature to her- his hands still shaking. For some reason, as this happened, you felt absolutely insane- like you were some schizoid character In a movie, and everyone else was just watching your crazy rants unfold.

“And you- miss… Stilwell?”, he continued, turning to you- and as you shook your head (you didn't share your aunt’s last name, thank you ), he held a hand up, like he didn't actually care about that, “Why don't you take Homelander here home? He's still a bit shaken.”

And you're the only one here not afraid of his lasers, seemed to be the tacit rest of his request.

At that, you stood straighter, facing him as a bitter bile pooled in your throat - desperate to keep jawing off about all you've been keeping, seeing these last months, about every single thing that they'd knowingly been doing to him- but you held back for him. Edgar was right, he needed to get away from this, he needed some peace- and perhaps not to have to spend his birthday with some old lady who would be pawing at him all night.

You swallowed it and nodded at him, chest still out and shoulders squared, like you were a shield and shot one last look at Maddie.

She was boring holes into you- mouth in a thin line, dark blue eyes unblinking in anger, hands fisted to her sides. You knew that look, your mother had been the end of it one too many times. But unlike her, you did not relent- and Maddie should better get used to it.

Then, you simply turned, falling to a kneel once again, as you grabbed his shoulder. His eyes were on you as well, those clear blue eyes, still watery, still shaking. His hands were drenched in blood, as was the rest of his new suit- he looked so small in that moment, so scared.

“John?”, you let your voice fall into a soft tone. At your call, his eyes tuned into an emotion you couldn't quite decipher- aside from intense gratefulness, “Let’s go home.”

#homelander #homelander the boys #homelander x you #homelander x oc #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #homelander fic #john x you #vought #madelyn stilwell #writing #my writing #my fics #fics

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1d1195 · 7 months

Text

My Friend's Toyota II

Read Part I here: My Friend's Toyota

~7.9k words

Warnings: a bit more angsty this time around.

She nodded feeling a little worried about the conversation she was waffling on thinking about it more. The kind of girls that flirted with Harry didn’t look like her. They were loud and boisterous. Fun and exciting. They probably didn’t get enjoyment out of perfectly stacking the dishwasher or the smell of laundry on Sundays while watching TV.

Told me that she’s never been in love before / Darling, I can treat you right, take you to the shore / Every time you cross my mind, I just want you more / Sitting in the grass looking at the tower / Thinking ‘bout her eyes every single hour / She’s my wildflower

She brought water and pain pills into Allie’s room and plopped on the bed beside her. “Good morning, sunshine!” She chirped.

“I hate you,” she hissed from beneath the blanket.

Giggling, she laid beside her hungover form and smiled at the ceiling. It felt like her organs were made of liquid. They were all warm. Like her heart had sent too much blood to each of them. Her face felt warm. He wasn’t even around and just the mere thought of Harry had her feeling downright giggly. It had never felt like this before about a guy. Not when she pined over the guy in her high school biology class. In her sixteen-year-old rom-com ridden mind, that guy was the love of her life. They were going to live happily ever after. One day he was going to notice her, not just as his lab partner but as someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was foolish to think. Not the guy she dated briefly when she was seventeen. But she tried not to think about him too much.

Sixteen and seventeen was so young. Twenty-one was still young but she felt more confident about Harry making the giddy feeling flood over her as she laid beside a headache-ridden Allie.

“Did you sleep in Niall’s bed?” Allie asked.

Her cheeks flushed hotly. She shook her head, glad that Allie was hiding beneath the covers. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame you. That wouldn’t even be the worst place Harry’s taken a girl to bed,” Allie murmured. Allie’s hungover, she reminded herself. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Speaking before she had time to process what she was saying. Worrying about something she had no control over.

She didn’t want to think too much about the rumors that swirled around Harry. After last night, if anyone saw her go into a bedroom with Harry, she was certain the rumors wouldn’t just be about him anymore. “I think I have to ask him about the rumors,” she whispered.

“Yeah? That’s good, honestly. It’ll probably make you feel better. You’re already on his side,” Allie was gentle. Even though her head was screaming, and she probably still didn’t trust Harry the way she did implicitly. But his previous relationships, they were none of her business. As long as he was kind to her, she had no reason to believe he would break her heart.

“What’s on the docket for today?” Allie asked sitting up and taking the medicine and water from her.

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “I was going to work on my online class, do some chores.”

“Well, I need hangover food, so put it off. We’re going to breakfast,” she said getting out of bed and pulling her hair into a twist and out of her face. She giggled in response.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

She was right about the rumors. As Allie devoured her bacon-y potato cure, she could hear the next booth over talking in low whispers about how Harry brought another girl into Niall’s bedroom. “They were in there for two hours.”

“Lucky girl.”

“Lucky Harry,” a guy muttered to them. “Did you see her? She’s hot.” She was glad the booth wall that separated them was high enough to keep her hidden. Allie seemed to be too focused on her breakfast to notice the others chatting about her one table over.

“That’s a new record for him. He hooked up with like five girls over the summer.”

That was the kind of rumor that made her stomach churn. “She’s nerdy and so not Harry’s type. I have a class with her, and she sits in the front. I give it two weeks now.”

“So why does he keep hanging out with her?”

She pushed her plate of French toast aside and tried to tune them out. She looked at Allie, head resting on the table beside her plate of food. “It’s so good,” she moaned.

Laughing, she shook her head. “No one forced you to drink that much,” she reminded her.

Allie smiled. “No one needs to.”

She knew she was being quiet. “Y’okay, love?” Harry asked as they walked to math class. She nodded, still silent. Harry didn’t press her, which she was grateful for; it seemed hard to believe he was planning this long extravagant plan to impress her long enough to sleep with her or something. The rumors continued to swarm from the weekend. She wondered if Harry heard them or if people were smart enough to not to talk about him in front of him.

But all the rumors were about how she wasn’t good enough. How Harry was wasting his time. It felt true. She probably wasn’t like the other girls Harry dated. The October breeze chilled her cheeks and she nuzzled into the collar of her jacket briefly to avoid the breeze. “Do you have plans tonight?” Harry asked.

Nothing besides studying and homework. But she didn’t want to sound unbelievably lame. “No,” she cleared her throat.

“Would y’want t’hang out?” He asked.

“Hang out?” She repeated.

He smiled. “Yeah... we can order pizza and study. Or watch a movie. Jus’ hang out,” he repeated. Her heart fluttered at how sweet it sounded. How innocent. She really needed to tell him about her worries.

Be careful with your heart. Allie’s voice was loud in her head. She loved her best friend, but kind of wanted to shove her for getting into her head like that. She was blissfully unaware of Harry’s reputation until Allie brought it up. Now it was tainting her walk. Ruining the nice late-night chat she had with him in Niall’s bedroom. If she ever ran into Niall, she would have to remember to thank him.

“Mitch works on Tuesdays and then stays at his girlfriend’s place so...I know y’don’t have class tomorrow. Y’could stay if y’want t’stay the night.”

Her heart felt uneasy, and she didn’t know how to answer without sounding like an idiot. “Um...”

“You don’t have to,” he said quickly. “Jus’ thought I’d offer. I’ll take y’home any time y’want,” he promised.

Biting her lip, they entered the Sawyer building, and she paused right by the door ignoring the passing groups of students hurrying to and from their next class.

They stood near the ancient radiator for a building that was built in the late 1800s. It was painted over in white, about two inches thick of the chipping color. She wondered how it hadn’t melted off when the air was so chilly. While she warmed herself, Harry said hello to a friend of his and she got the gist that he was asking about the soccer game later in the week.

For whatever reason, in her mind, now was the perfect time to ogle Harry. His black jeans (they were her favorite of his) hugged the muscles of his legs like they were nearly painted on. She never cared about a guy’s legs before until she met Harry. His hair was coiffed to perfection in those lovely chocolate curls that made her want to run her hand through them herself. His jacket was lighter than hers; of course it was. It was probably a normal temperature to him and not frigid the way she thought it was. He looked so cozy she wanted to hug him. Other than gentle touches to the arm or hand, they hadn’t touched one another all that much. The ache she felt in her muscles to reach out and hug him was so strong she had to silently berate herself that she would look like a lunatic hugging in the middle of the building between college classes.

Eventually, she pulled herself from her thoughts. She found Harry smiling at her so sweetly while she thought about everything rapid fire while waiting for an answer. His friend was gone and she wondered how long she had been caught staring and nearly drooling over him while she warmed by the antiquated heating system.

“I would love to hang out, I’m not sure about staying over,” she admitted. “I have work in the morning.”

“S’fine,” he answered eagerly. “I’ll take any time I can have with you, love,” he looked at his feet and then up again, shyly through his eyelashes. Standing by the radiator was suddenly too hot. All he had to do was look at her. She would never need a heating system again.

“Do I look okay?” She asked Allie. She wasn’t trying to overdo it. She wanted to be prepared without looking insane. If she stayed over, she would have the T-shirt she needed for working at the local Starbucks. She could wear the jeans she had on currently, and no one would be the wiser. Her little bag of toiletries was shoved into the middle pocket of her backpack. The last step was to have Allie double check her outfit, hair, and makeup. That she wasn’t overdoing it for a Tuesday evening.

Allie paused from her painting wiping the back of her hand across her forehead to get the hair out of her vision. In doing so, she swiped teal paint across her skin. But it only made her look like the project herself. Her major was art, of course—she wanted to teach because it was one of the most passionate classes she took growing up.

Her teachers inspired her, and she wanted to do the same. Honestly, she already looked the part. Her outfits always consisted of bohemian skirts and the like. Her hair was a little frazzled but in an organized messy way. Allie added décor around the apartment that sparked a little flare to the selection of items she had purchased when they moved in. Her eye for color was impeccable and while she would probably have the same six prints hung on the wall, Allie was able to add something that didn’t quite fit their modern-twenty-something-year-old theme but nonetheless went perfectly. She was like a ballerina, utterly graceful. Like she floated from room to room and exuded beauty like it was her job.

Now, Allie looked her up and down. A black, long-sleeved T-shirt with the college name along the sleeve that she would wear to bed if she had to. She crammed a pair of leggings and socks alongside her bag of toiletries just in case as well. She wore a pair of Converse just in case she stayed the night and had to go to work right from Harry’s. “You look really pretty,” Allie promised with a smile. “Effortless beauty.”

She sighed with relief. “You’re sure. My hair isn’t too much?” She straightened it after a late afternoon shower. It would be easier to deal with if she did end up staying the night and didn’t shower.

“It’s very practical of you,” she assured her. “You’re not trying too hard, sweetie. I swear.”

“Okay,” she sighed again. “Is it weird I’m nervous?” She asked.

“Not at all. You really like him,” Allie reminded her. As if she could forget. “It’ll be fine though. You have nothing to worry about.”

Even though Allie was definitely her best friend, they hadn’t known each other long; there was still a long list of things she hadn’t told her yet. “I’ve...never spent the night with a guy,” she admitted.

Allie blinked. “Oh,” tilting her head curiously at her lovely friend. It seemed a little...not weird, but genuinely surprising. The girl was sweet as could be. They hadn’t delved too deeply into romantic histories, but it sounded like she had gone on enough dates back South to have stayed at a guy’s place before. “Well...it’s okay,” her tone was comforting.

Her face turned pink, and she looked at Allie as if she had all the answers. “What if I do it wrong?”

Allie smirked sadly. “Sweetie, you can’t do it wrong. Not if Harry likes you as much as he says he does. The way I saw how much he liked you. You were right,” she nodded her head firmly. “It’s different with you, trust me,” she wrapped her arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. She smiled brightly as she ushered her out the door before she could talk herself out of doing something she knew she wanted to do. “And if he does try something shady, you just text me and I will come cut his dick off.”

Harry said five and she knew it was a fifteen-minute walk to his dorm from her apartment. It seemed like everything was a fifteen-minute walk. She passed dozens of people hurrying to their late-night classes or to the nearest dining hall (it was breakfast for dinner night which was always a school favorite). The air was so brisk for her southern skin. She wished she wore a scarf. But she wasn’t too far away, and she was sure she could convince Harry to turn up the heat for a bit if needed.

The sun was lower in the sky. The blue wasn’t quite visible anymore. The clouds turned the light around the sun varying degrees of white, pink, purple, and orange. It was stunning and she took a picture on her phone for Allie in case she needed something to paint. She had already painted another photo she had taken earlier in the summer when they first met and told her anytime that she took a nice picture she would gladly paint it.

Harry told her to text her when she arrived, and he would run down to let her in. But due to students not caring about the safety protocols of the building, she made her way in easily when someone held the door behind them while exiting. Once inside she was grateful for the warmth and took a few moments to enjoy the heat and calm the nerves bubbling in her veins. Once she gained feeling back in her fingertips, she called Harry. “Hey love, are y’here? I’ll head down,” he said and she could hear the shuffle of items.

“M'actually in the lobby. If you want to tell me which floor, you’re on, I can make my way myself.”

“Oh, love. M’sorry. I hope y’didn’t wait long,” she could hear the frown in his voice. “Fourth floor. M’standing outside the elevator waiting.” she headed up to the fourth floor of the building via the elevator. She pressed the button and waited for it to descend.

“Not at all. Got right in behind someone exiting,” she promised.

“Oh good. Okay, see you in a minute.”

Taking a deep breath, she was grateful she was alone on the elevator. It was just hanging out. It wasn’t a date. There was no reason to be nervous. Harry was extremely nice to her. When the elevator door opened, her heart stopped seeing him waiting for her. “Wow, y’look beautiful,” he said in greeting looking her up and down but in a way that didn’t feel excessive. Her cheeks felt red at his assessment.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Thanks for having me.”

“M’pleasure, love,” he tilted his head for her to follow him down the hall to his room. She could hear music coming from the other rooms and even below her. “S’not as loud inside,” he promised.

She smiled. “It’s fine.”

He tapped the number on the keypad and opened the door for her to enter before him. “S’a pretty standard suite,” he shrugged. “Mitch’s room is over there,” he pointed to the door on the right side of the room. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge or cabinets.”

“You have a balcony?” She asked, dropping her bag on the sofa in the sitting area and rushing to the slider to look at it. He smiled at her excitement. She could feel it on her back as she looked through the glass. Harry didn’t go out there much because it was pretty closed off. Each balcony was enclosed with concrete walls on each side and a sloping wooden awning over top that extended past the rail. It almost looked like a prison cell with bars extending from awning to railing from end to end. Worry that drunk college students would fall being the reason. “Can I go out there?” She asked.

He chuckled. “Course,” he reached in front of her, unlocking the handle and pulling it open.

She stepped on the little area and peered between the bars to look at the cotton candy sky. “You get to see the sunset like this every day?” She asked.

He smirked. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “When m’home, I suppose. M’usually working or out and about around sunset.”

“I would live out here,” she told him.

“S’a little cold for you, I think.”

She wrinkled her nose at him so cutely in mock distaste, the expression on Harry’s face changed minutely and he smiled a little more. “That’s what blankets are for. It’s so nice,” but an involuntary shiver ran down her body completely shaking her theory.

Harry tilted his head back toward the inside. “Let’s get y’back inside before y’freeze t’death.”

“If I was going to freeze to death, it would have been on the way here,” she told him. “I should have gloves,” she rubbed her hands together quickly in response. He was right, unfortunately. The chill on the balcony ruined the warmth she got back when she entered the lobby of his building.

“Let me get y’some tea. The pizza should be here soon, too,” he promised. “I thought y’might want t’study a bit before we watch a movie,” he admitted. “If y’don’t, we can start right on the movie.”

She shook her head. “No,” she was quite relieved. There were a few homework problems she needed to finish and dreaded the idea of staying up late tomorrow night after a long day at work but of course would gladly suffer such a thing if it meant an evening with Harry. “That would be great actually.”

“Great,” he smiled. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the tea,” he turned to the little kitchen area.

After homework, pizza, and a movie, it was nearing ten. They sifted through their regular course of conversation throughout homework and pizza time but remained pretty silent during the movie. The tension she felt between them was thick. She wanted to snuggle up to him but instead wrapped herself snug under the blanket he gave her. The idea of walking back in the cold fifteen minutes away seemed like a terrible idea. Even if Harry went with her.

Her thoughts rolled over about a hundred times weighing her options. She wondered if she should excuse herself to the bathroom to get a pep talk from Allie but stopped herself when Harry’s laugh quietly jolted her from her thoughts. Harry had one socked foot on the coffee table, the other on the floor, one arm draped along the back of the sofa behind her, but not in a romantic sort of way. His other hand propped his head up. His foot on the table bounced back and forth lightly in an easy rhythm. He looked so at ease. Not worried about embarrassing himself in anyway.

Must have been nice. When the movie ended about twenty minutes later, she glanced at her watch as discreetly as she could. “D’you want me to walk you back?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Um... it’s pretty late... and cold. I wouldn’t want to put you out—”

“S’no trouble at all,” he promised.

Her face warmed feeling like now he wanted her to leave. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I hate to think you’d have to walk back in the cold. I did bring a change of clothes but if you need me to—”

“Oh, oh,” Harry shook his head. Dropping his foot from the coffee table to the floor and turning to her completely. His eyes looked a little wild and she was surprised he looked so at ease moments ago. “Of course. I want you t’stay, love,” he promised. “You must pack light,” he shook his head. “M’so sorry it sounded like I wanted you t’leave. I do not want that. I jus’ assumed y’didn’t bring anything t’make y’comfortable staying over,” his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink. She could see it in the low light of the lamp he and Mitch brought instead of the fluorescent overhead light. She sighed a bit with relief. “I don’t want you t’leave at all,” he promised.

The air in her lungs felt lighter then. “Oh. Okay.”

“Really,” he inched just a hair closer to her. If she wasn’t so focused on him, she might not have noticed the minute shift in his body language moving toward her. “M’really happy you’re here,” he whispered, and she knew the moment he looked in her eyes he was going to kiss her.

He was moving closer, she wasn’t helping. Her heart was beating so hard, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. Surprised it wasn’t louder than the thrum of the music playing from the suite below him. He kept looking at her lips. The way they parted slightly. She breathed through her nose as she waited for him to get closer.

“I’ve never slept in a guy’s bed,” she blurted. Blinking, Harry stopped his motion half an inch from her lips. She could feel his warm breath across her face. He pulled back, creating a bit of space between them. He waited patiently for follow up. Gazing at her a little bit nervously. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. She turned her face away from him. “I’m sorry. That totally ruined the moment.”

“No,” he put a hand carefully on her blanket covered knee. “Not at all, love. M’jus’ trying t’give y’some time,” he promised. “M’jus’ waiting.”

She scrunched her eyes shut tighter seeing her blood rush in imaginary shapes behind her closed lids. She still faced away from him. She wanted to blurt it out. But was so scared he would reject her. Then she would have to walk home alone in the cold and dark. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, love?” She imagined the cute little pinch of skin between his eyebrows. Like he got when he concentrated while studying.

She took a deep breath and released an exasperated sigh. Her face felt hot still and maybe a walk in the cold would help her forget this. When she started to speak, her voice shook ever so slightly, and she prayed Harry didn’t notice. “For ruining—”

He did, and it broke his heart before she could finish the sentence. “Love, will you please look at me?” He interrupted. Harry didn’t rush her. It was so slow. A whole hour could have passed in that minute it took her to turn back to him, her hair falling in front of her face still hiding her expression from him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he promised. “M’honestly... glad y’told me; means you’re comfortable.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him this was the least comfortable she had ever felt in his presence, but she knew what he meant. “I really want to kiss you,” she whispered.

He smiled sadly. That must be a good sign for him, she thought. Despite the pause. But Harry must have also sensed there was more. “...but?”

She was quiet, bit her lip, and covered her eyes with her hand. “I’ve never been in love before,” she told him, the shake of her voice unmistakable. That must have really surprised him because he was silent. She didn’t dare look. There was still more. “And I’ve never—”

“Love, stop,” he said quickly. She was wrong. He wanted her to leave. This was so embarrassing. There were tears stinging the back of her eyes, but she still didn’t look—couldn’t look. Gently, he pulled her hand from her face holding it in his lap. He cupped his face with his freehand. “I jus’ want t’kiss you,” he whispered rubbing his thumb so softly against her cheek. It felt like the equivalent of his whispered voice. “Nothing more,” he promised. “Can jus’ be one kiss, even,” he suggested. “Nothing else,” he repeated.

She looked at those brilliant green eyes for so long she swore another hour passed in that minute. The shake of her voice disappeared. The stinging behind her eyes stopped. Her heart felt achy, and she leaned the final empty inches between them and granted his wish.

It was not one kiss. One kiss turned into another and then another and then she wasn’t sure she could keep count even if she wanted to. Harry’s hand cupped the side of her face the entire time. His fingers sliding between her hair right behind her ear and tugging her close. It had to have been hours by the time Harry pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. His breathing heavy across her cheeks as he pressed a kiss on her cheek, then pulled away to kiss her forehead. He tucked her head beneath his chin and pulled her toward him. It was quiet, aside from the music below them and their slightly ragged breathing. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She giggled slightly shaking her head against his chest. She was clinging to his short shirt sleeves with both hands, like he was a life raft. Granted, he did make her feel like she was drowning with kisses only moments before. They were quiet for a while, just basking in the warmth of each other. Every so often, Harry kissed the top of her head. His hand moved up and down her spine soothingly.

“Are you tired?” He asked. She shook her head. “Are you alright, kitten?” He asked nervously.

She nodded. “I’m good,” she sighed. “Promise.”

He sighed with relief. “Good,” he murmured in her hair. “’Ve wanted t’do that since I met you,” he admitted.

She smiled against his throat. “Yeah?”

“Very much so,” he mumbled.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked pulling back from him. It seemed colder than the air outside being so far away from him. It was almost harmful to her health.

He nodded. “’Course.”

“Have you heard the rumors about me?” She wondered.

He blinked. “No,” he frowned. “M’sorry. What rumor—”

She blushed. “Um... just that I’m not your type. I’m nerdy. Not...gonna be around long,” she turned away briefly. “I don’t expect you to propose or anything just for kissing me, Harry. I’m not insane. But I’m looking for a relationship,” she sounded way stronger than she felt. Looked him square in the eye as she said the next part. “But I don’t want to date lots of guys for weeks and not have it go anywhere or do anything. I want to have someone to depend on when I feel stressed, someone to sit with me while I do homework, go out to eat with or watch movies and—”

He smiled and chuckled softly as she spoke. Her heart felt so fragile and exposed and his laughter momentarily made her feel ridiculous. But after just a few seconds of his low chuckle, eventually, he sighed with relief. “Kitten, I’ve been waiting a very long time for you,” he whispered, cupping her perfect, gorgeous face, and kissed her again.

“Is it everything you expected?” He whispered. She snorted in the dark and Harry chuckled. Her body was warm and pressed close to his, spooned against his chest. She smelled like the raspberry chapstick she put on right before they climbed into his bed. He squeezed her, kissed her temple. His heart nearly broke listening to her worry about sleeping in the same bed as him. He knew there was more. More she was embarrassed about she couldn’t get it out in one full sentence. None of that mattered to him. Not even a little. “Can we talk?” He asked. She nodded silently against him. “You’ve never been in love?” He wondered.

She shook her head. “I think I’ve made it... too big of a thing in my head,” she admitted. “Too many rom-coms, fairy tales, and books I read as a teenager,” she explained. “It’s silly,” she whispered.

“I don’t think it’s silly,” he kissed the back of her head. “S’really nice.”

“My parents met on this campus,” she explained. “They love each other like...” she shook her head, his lips basically rubbing against her forehead with her motion. “I’m a lucky girl to witness that kind of love. To have grown up around that love while I lived at home.”

“S’that why y’transferred here?”

She shrugged. “It worked for them.”

“Love, m’not trying t’pry or say s’weird. Or make y’uncomfortable in anyway. But... m’shocked y’haven’t been in love. You’re stunning,” he punctuated the thought with another kiss to the back of her head. “Sweet, intelligent, jus’ so lovely. S’a miracle for me y’don’t have a line of admirers.”

She turned around in his arms to face him. She was eye level with him. Their heads sharing a pillow on the extremely small twin mattress. Her nose bumped his and he smelled her raspberry chapstick even stronger. “When I was in high school,” she whispered. “I thought I was in love. I thought we were in love. He carried my backpack with my insanely heavy AP History textbook, he brought me coffee to school, and drove me home from soccer practice,” her voice was even. Not a hint of sadness yet Harry felt this rush of sadness all through him.

“Y’don’t have t’tell me, kitten.”

She glanced up at him, even though it was dark, the light thrown from the moon, made it bright enough that he could make out the whites of her eyes. “I want to,” she admitted. Her regular confidence seemed to be shaken during their almost kiss. The thought of making her uncomfortable, especially after feeling like she ruined their first kiss was his worst nightmare. But conviction seemed to resurface as she began her story. Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand where he thought it was going, but if she wanted to share, he would listen to every word.

He nodded. “M’listening,” he promised.

“We were having our first study date at his place,” she continued. “It was for our English literature class. We had to create a PowerPoint about a book we read. Highlighting all the symbolism and allegory. The history and whatnot,” it wasn’t relevant as to what they were studying. It wasn’t the point. She was stalling. Harry knew it. But he let her continue. “He invited me over because his parents weren’t home. His siblings were out. It was just us.” Harry was terrified he knew where it was going and even though she was perfectly whole in front of him, he felt so much anger coursing through him he worried he might hold her too tight. He held his breath waiting for the shoe to drop. “I thought he would just want to make out or something,” she whispered. “I’m pretty certain I was in love with a guy in my biology class the year before, so I knew I didn’t love him so maybe it’s my own fault for going to his house. Knowing what a guy like him—”

“It’s not your fault,” Harry interrupted. His voice was flat. He didn’t want her to continue. But he had to know. Needed to know. Because very honestly, Harry was going to kill him for hurting her.

She swallowed loud enough for Harry to hear, and she took a deep breath. “I told him I didn’t want to have sex,” she whispered very softly. “He said I was a waste of his time. All this time he could have been with,” she shook her head. “Three, four other girls. Not wasting months on someone that didn’t want to sleep with him,” she pressed her forehead against the top of his chest. “I felt so stupid,” her voice was so thin it was hard for Harry to hear her. He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her forehead. He hoped it was encouraging. So she would keep talking if she wanted. “I thought he liked me. I thought that maybe I wouldn’t get that earth stopping love my parents had, but maybe I would find a guy and we would grow to love each other like that. I know in hindsight that’s stupid to think at seventeen, but it was the only thing that made sense at the time.” Harry remained silent. “I walked home,” she whispered. “My mom just knew. She asked me a thousand questions if he hurt me. I told her he didn’t, but I think part of her still believes that I lied to her—”

“Y’did, kitten. He did hurt you.”

“He didn’t—”

“Love he broke your heart and your trust. He hurt you,” he said simply. “He’s an ass. An idiot. He should be in jail just for breaking your heart,” he promised. It felt so unbelievable that she had never been in love. He wanted to know more about the guy from her biology class, but he couldn't believe that someone so perfect to him hadn't been in love. “S’no wonder y’mum kept asking. Y’mum knows he hurt you. Y’jus’ pretended he didn’t so y’could protect your heart, love,” he explained. She was silent for a minute. Harry could feel her foot impatiently shifting between the covers, near the bottom of his legs and he continued waiting while she processed this information. “Have y’ever told anyone ‘bout this?” He asked quietly.

She shook her head. “It wasn’t...a huge deal,” she shrugged.

He was silent for another long moment, trying to control his anger. If he had his address, Harry was certain he would do something drastic “M’sorry y’feel like y’have t’minimize your feelings. You shouldn’t do that. Please don’t do that around me,” he murmured.

“Harry,” she sighed and pressed her forehead against his. “Where did you come from?” She asked. “Guys in college don’t... You can’t possibly be real.”

He smirked sadly. “I told you, I’ve been waiting a really long time for you,” he kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the bridge of her nose, and her cheeks.

“Harry,” she said softly.

“Yes, kitten?” he was so happy to have her so close to him. None of his daydreams during their walks or math lectures compared at all.

“It’s not going to bother you if—”

“M’sorry t’interrupt, love. But, don’t bother finishing that question. M’gonna take care of your heart. That’s it,” he promised and gave her another gentle squeeze. “Go t’sleep,” he murmured.

For a while it was so quiet, it barely sounded like she was breathing. “Thank you,” her voice was so soft he hardly heard her. As he drifted off with surely the love his life in his arms, part of him thought she wasn’t speaking to him at all.

In the morning, her alarm went off pulling Harry from his dream state. Surely having her in his arms was still a dream, though. He yawned, stretching, and turning to her as she looked nervously. “Sorry, I didn’t know it would be that loud.”

He smiled. “S’okay. Can I make y’breakfast before you go?”

“Oh, no thank you. I’m good.”

“Jus’ lemme get dressed and I’ll drive you.”

“That’s unnecessary,” she promised.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “S’too bad,” he shrugged, rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he returned, she passed him to get dressed in the bathroom and Harry quickly stripped himself of his pants so if she was finished in the bathroom shortly, he wouldn’t embarrass her by being naked from the waist down.

She did catch him with his shirt off, making her cheeks turn the lightest shade of red. Harry smirked tugging his shirt over his head. “Sorry,” she murmured and grabbed her bag to shove her clothes inside it. “Er...I was thinking, by the time I get out, it will be colder...and I don’t have the right coat to walk home. Could you drop me off at my car?” She asked.

Harry tilted his head at her. “I’ll jus’ pick y’up, kitten,” he could see her mulling this over in her head. There was a bit of worry in her eye. Fear of putting Harry out, he was sure. “Love,” he smiled sweetly. “M’picking y’up,” he promised. “More time t’spend with you.”

“You are...” she smiled shaking her head. “Something else, Harry Styles.”

Hey, kitten. Missing you. Hope you’re having a good day xx

Hi! I’m good. Busy with work and studying. Hope your day is good too!

It’s pretty good. Heading to the mechanic. Cars are the worst 😔 Work later. Wish I could see you 😭

At least there’s no class tomorrow

I’d rather have class just to see you xx

That’s really sweet 🥰 Maybe we should meet up during class time anyway?

You’re a genius, love 😘 absolutely. I’ll meet you after your class.

Sounds perfect!

Harry felt shameful. It was a bad week and Thursday was supposed to be a good day after all since they agreed to meet up despite not having class. Well... it was bad aside from math class and studying. Two things he never thought he would say out loud or even think in the privacy of his own thoughts. It was also good because she said yes to a date—a real date.

After their night together over a week ago and a busy schedule on both parts, this was supposed to be their first official date the coming Saturday. He had it all planned out. A fancy restaurant that he made a reservation for in the city. They would take the train in to save them the nightmare of parking. He asked her on Tuesday after class and he didn’t think he would ever forget her beautiful smile when she said yes. It felt like he won the lottery.

But Harry’s car had other plans. He took it in for a routine oil change the night before. During breakfast, he got the call. He needed new tires and new brakes. He knew about the brakes, but he thought he could wait until spring to get new tires—just get through the winter. The mechanic was insistent.

He felt awful as he walked with her on Thursday to study in the library. She was bubbly with excitement for the last week. About him. It was too good to be true. Of course, something had to go wrong. He felt terrible that he was going to have to cancel. “Hey, love?” He asked.

She was rambling about something. Harry wished he had tuned in more to know what and felt bad seeing her excitement waver. “Yeah?”

“Uh...” he sighed and gestured to the bench along the sidewalk. “I have t’ask y’to reschedule our date,” he looked so miserable. Her heart felt so sad seeing how upset he was.

“Oh,” she frowned. The excitement in her eyes was officially dead. Harry felt horrible. “Yeah... of course! Of course, we can. Is... are you okay?”

“I jus’ feel so awful,” he mumbled. “Asking t’reschedule.”

“Oh,” she felt her face wrinkle in confusion. She placed a hand on his bouncing knee trying to help the anxiety he felt. “That’s... that’s okay. Is everything alright? Like, is your family okay or is it a doctor’s appointment?”

Harry thought he was going to cry. “Uh... s’a little embarrassing,” he admitted rubbing his hand on the back of his head. He couldn’t look at her.

“More or less than me getting lost on my first day of class as a twenty-one-year-old?”

He smirked. “S’nothing,” he promised.

“I... I hate to ask this because it makes me sound so insecure... but is it something I did? Or did someone say something about me and now you don’t like me—”

“Jesus,” he shook his head and pulled her toward him quick. He kissed the top of her head, his arm draping around her shoulders. If there was any question of them being an item, Harry certainly squashed them all in front of everyone walking by. Being broke wasn’t as awful as listening to her feelings of inadequacy. “No, no,” he sighed heavily. “God, no, kitten. S’nothing you did. You’re... you’re perfect,” he gazed down to meet her gaze. “M’so embarrassed... I had a pretty expensive car repair t’take care of... so m’over m’budget for the month. I didn’t know at the time—”

“Oh,” she blinked and shook her head. “Oh... that’s okay. We don’t have to go to that restaurant,” she shrugged. “I mean... if you don’t want to go out, of course. But... I don’t need a fancy restaurant.”

His heart jumped to his throat. “Really?” He sighed with relief. “Kitten, I don’t want t’wait any longer t’take you on a proper date... would you want to have a picnic or something? I know that’s lame. S’not a proper date because y’deserve so much more but...m’not making sense, I know—m’jus’ really overwhelmed and—”

She put a gloved hand on the side of his face and smiled. Harry thought that he would see her eyes in every one of his dreams. In his head. Every time he closed his eyes. “I would love a proper picnic date,” Harry swore her smile was made of stardust. Or maybe snowflakes. “Will it be too cold though? We could have an indoor picnic.”

“I’ll make sure you’re warm,” he promised.

She picked Harry up and drove them to where he said. He filled her car with a whole bunch of supplies, food, and drinks. He told her to dress warm and she looked like she was ready to hike. Boots, warm thick socks, a big sweatshirt. She looked so cozy and warm. Once they got to the little place Harry had found when he first made it to college, he requested she wait in the car while he set everything up. “Don’t look, yeah?” He smiled.

She nodded and made herself busy looking at her phone. But after the third trip to the car, Harry could tell she felt bad. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Stay put,” he insisted. After a few more minutes, Harry was at her car door. He was grinning like an idiot as he opened her door. “After you, kitten.”

There was a massive blanket laid on the grass. Along the edges there were little twinkling lights that he hoped made it feel like something out of a movie. Harry’s heart was thudding in his chest. A cooler with drinks and another with food was on one corner of the blanket. Finally, a tiny, portable space heater from camping with Mitch was directed at the blanket. She giggled. “Harry,” she sighed. “This is better than a fancy restaurant," he shook his head with a smirk.

“You’re still getting a fancy dinner, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”

She bit her lip and laid across the blanket gazing up. “This place is so pretty,” she whispered. “Look how nice the sky looks.”

It was getting chillier by the minute with the sun getting lower in the sky. Harry hoped to stay an hour or two but with the slight breeze he worried she would freeze. But the way she laid across the blanket made her look like a goddess. She belonged to nature. He knelt on the blanket beside her and grabbed the food he had planned. She rolled onto her stomach and then to a half-kneeling, half-sitting position. Harry brought sandwiches delighted by her request that her favorite sandwich was peanut butter and strawberry jam. They ate quietly for a bit and Harry poured cans of the sparkling wines he had in his fridge (he thought they might be Sarah’s, but he wanted something classier than beer or seltzers for their first real date).

The sky was pink and purple again after they finished their sandwiches and two glasses of sparkling wine. Harry baked cookies before she came to get him. They nibbled on those while chatting but mostly he just enjoyed her company and how happy she was to just be there with him. It seemed like she really didn’t need a fancy restaurant—even if he thought she deserved it more than all the rest.

When they finished snacking, Harry put the coolers back in the car and laid beside her gazing up at the sky. He pulled the corner of the huge blanket up over her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I could lay here forever,” he murmured.

“Me too,” she nuzzled herself closer to his warm jacket. He kissed the top of her head.

“M’sorry this is the lamest first date,” he grumbled still feeling the bits of inadequacy of what he wanted to give her because she deserved the best and not a single thing less.

“No way,” she shook her head. “This is so nice, Harry. I’m warm and cozy. I’m not worried about my dress looking right or spilling something on it. I don’t have to worry about which fork to use. There’s no one around to interrupt or stare at us...” she sighed. “It’s literally the best first date,” she promised.

“Stare at us?” He repeated.

“Surely you see everyone eyeing us every time we walk to class.”

He frowned. “I didn’t know,” he mumbled.

She tilted her head to meet his gaze. She looked genuinely surprised. “Hmm,” she hummed. “I’m not used to people staring at me,” she smiled teasingly. “You probably just tune it all out.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes at her as he flicked her gently on the side of the head. “I only care when you’re staring,” he brushed his finger across her cheek. “S’like the only thing that matters now.”

“This is crazy, isn’t it?” She whispered.

“What?”

“Falling so hard?”

“Didn’t know y’were falling so hard,” he chuckled. She smacked his chest.

“Shut up,” she tucked her face into his side. He cupped the side of her face.

“I fell so hard, love,” he promised. “Fell so. Very. Hard.”

Harry thought about getting her back soon. It was getting colder by the second. But the sky was this multitude of sunset colors that made him never want to leave. He only wanted to exist right beside her in this little meadow of peacefulness and never let go of her.

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noroi1000 · 1 year

Text

That Snow Leopard 2

Paring: Snow Leopard Gojo x reader

More tags: Pregnancy, beastman Gojo, little kittens!

Words: 2,5k

A/n: I just read a lot of beastman manhwa and now after that I knew exactly what to do with this one shot.

Part one

As you sat on the chair, you looked at Satoru's head resting on your lap as you stroked the fur on his head.

His tail wagged happily as you talking with your friend.

"He became tame pretty quickly." The brunette said as she sorted the necessary documents on the desk.

"Yes." you replied.

In fact, on the second day he acted like this.

He was so kind and loving.

At least for you.

He was happy when you came home.

You convinced him to at least wear pants when he wanted to be in human form.

You managed to get him to stay with you.

He is with you for research. At least that's how it was recognized. Snow leopards are an endangered species. So he was going to be the research subject, and also, when needed, he'd be the breeding partner.

However, at the zoo, he wouldn't even approach the female and ran to you all the time.

That's why you let him go. Because apparently he didn't want to.

When you asked him why, he said you were his mate.

A snow leopard with a human mind who got a partner for life? This is him...

He was impatient and kept asking you about "kittens".

However, few people get pregnant the first time.

But a month later, your big cat was still next to your belly.

And that's why you're sitting with your friend right now, with your round belly under your shirt and your cat close to you.

Shoko wanted to know who the father of your child is. But you didn't tell her.

You stared into Satoru's blue eyes as he suddenly snuggled against your belly.

You stroked his head more.

"Still won't tell who the father is?" she asked you.

"It's complicated..." you murmured.

"But you're going to give birth soon, right?"

"In a month..."

"You've kept this secret from me for so long. Say finally! If he left you, I'll kill him."

"He didn't leave me."

You were afraid of giving birth. Because you can't go to an ordinary doctor. You can't deliver your own childbirth. Satoru can't either. Because you want to do it in conditions that will keep you comfortable. Besides, Satoru probably doesn't know that.

Would you like Shoko to help you?

Since you are human and Satoru is a snow leopard shapeshifter, your children will not be normal people.

Satoru told you that they will probably have ears and a tail like him in human form.

Therefore, if a doctor saw such a child, it would be bad.

You have two of his kittens in you.

You are afraid of what might happen when people find out about your relationship with him. You keep it a secret from everyone for almost eight months. You control your pregnancy yourself and you are sure that everything is fine.

Because you knew you'd love a big cat more than a human. Especially when it comes to Satoru. If you were thinking logically at that moment, would you take the morning after pill to get rid of the pregnancy. However, you couldn't even think about such a thing. He wanted a mate. He wanted kittens. Why would you take it away from him?

He will never leave you. Because you became his partner forever. You have no turning back. Especially now. Especially after you fell in love with him...

Your Satoru is your cat. Your lover. The father of your children. And your beloved. He is everything to you.

Much more human than humans. He can write, he can read. He can do so much. He loves sweets. That's why he ate your cupcakes.

You couldn't deny him a happy life. Not especially after you woke up with him that night. And he slept with his arms wrapped around you protectively. His eyes stared at yours. And it wasn't the gaze of a predator looking at its prey. It was the gaze of a slightly wild but caring lover.

You fell more in love with him as the months passed. To know now that he is your true love.

His nose happily nuzzled your belly as he continued to cuddle.

"I didn't know males had such an instinct..." the brunette purred as she watched a large cat cuddle up to your bulging belly.

"He's like this..."

"So are you going to tell me who the father is?" she asked.

"Will you give me an ultrasound?"

"Here? Shouldn't you be seeing a gynecologist?"

"I haven't been there since the beginning of my pregnancy."

"Do you..."

"I controlled my pregnancy on my own." You replied quietly.

"Why?"

Her face looked very surprised.

"When you give me an ultrasound, you'll see..."

She sighed and suddenly reached for her gloves and sterilized examination device.

You walked over to the couch and sat there. Satoru followed you, carefully watching your movements.

He was so careful. He always made sure that nothing happened to you and was always by your side. Just to know that you and the kittens are fine.

And suddenly your friend lifted your shirt to get to your belly. She put her hands there. And you heard a growl.

You looked at the bright cat next to you, who was threateningly approaching Shoko, showing her to get away from you.

"Satoru. Satoru its okay. You don't have to worry." You got off the couch and knelt beside him, catching his soft fur around his neck.

His tail wrapped around your leg as he continued to be menacing. Shoko stepped back slowly.

"Satoru, calm down..." You groaned to calm him down.

He was overprotective.... Very overprotective. Because he couldn't help thinking that something might happen to you. You were his mate. And he couldn't let you get hurt. No one can touch his mate.

"Why is he acting like this?" the woman asked, looking at the menacing eyes.

And suddenly she saw the cat turn into a human who crouched down in front of you protectively. His ears on his head are slightly bent backwards. The tail has wrapped around you. You had your arms around his chest.

"Leave my mate, human! Don't touch her or my cubs!"

He was very smart. Like a human. But if it was about you and defending the mate and the kittens, he became aggressive and unpredictable. He wasn't thinking the way he always did. Because then all he thinks about is protecting you.

"Mate? Cubs? (y/n)... You..."

"Listen to me before you say anything!" you said with tears in your eyes.

Your Satoru cuddled you against his chest, letting you find solace. He let you relax as he continued to protect you.

This distinguishes him from others. He protects you and loves you unconditionally!

"This is snow leopard which I took with me. He is no ordinary big cat. He is a beastman. He is a man who can turn into a snow leopard. He's... He is the father of my children..."

She was looking at you seriously.

"S-Shoko! It's not what you think, please understand... I love him..." you said with tears in your eyes looking at her unreadable face.

You cuddled up to Satoru to get more solace for you.

"Fine. I understand that. If someone had told me I was going to have a baby with a cat like him, I'd probably have to drink a whole case of spirits for that to come true."

"You... Really?"

"yup. Stop crying, tell your cat to stop growling at me and come for a checkup."

Hearing that, you placed your fingers on your cheek to feel the tears flowing there.

It's all because of pregnancy!

You hugged Satoru a little tighter and whispered in his ear to calm down.

Then you got up to go to Shoko and lie down. She gave the white-haired man an apron to cover his private parts that she doesn't want to see.

And then you saw little kids on the screen. Two little ones.

Their little tails were visible wrapped around their bodies.

"I don't want to know what gender it is. We'll know when she gives birth." Said the man with the tail as he sat next to you.

You gave him a questioning look and he turned his eyes on you.

"How do you know that you can tell the sex of the baby by doing this?" You asked, grabbing his hand.

"You think I never knew about such a thing? Are people really that stupid to believe that there is no non-human who is as smart as they are? I have technology and everything else is the same as here!"

"You have? You're the fucking cat that lives in the snow!" The brunette laughed as she wiped your big belly off the cold gel.

"I'm Snow Leopard! Beastman Snow Leopard! Which means I'm human, damn!"

Did you wonder if he learned those words from TV?

Also, now you're wondering how he was able to talk from the beginning... Is it the same magic that turned him into a human?

"You're just a cat." She replied to him.

"I'm not a cat! And you make me hate this world!"

"Kitten is depressed? You hate the world?"

He growled and his claws lengthened.

There's no way Shoko can beat him! She will die if she doesn't calm down!

You grabbed your boyfriend's hand with both hands, holding tight. Taking his attention away from the woman in front of him.

"Tch... I really hate the human world...."

(A month later)

"How they are? How they are?!"

You watched as the man with his tail sticking out from behind his shirt ran around the bed and looked at your tired body.

He was practically kicking out the woman who'd been helping you for an hour. Just to see his kittens lay on your chest looking for milk.

Your body was tired.

"They're good." you replied, showing him them.

Two boys who look like him.

Satoru recently explained to you that the birth of cubs just like their father is very likely. As for the sex of the children, he's not sure. Snow Leopards had litters of up to three cubs at a time. Most people give birth to one. That's why you gave birth to two healthy snow leopards.

Their little ears and tails were so cute!

If you were a snow leopard, your cubs would be born snow leopard and later learn to transform.

Satoru told you that next time maybe you can have two girls.

You're not skeptical about it, but you also need to rethink it.

He, as a snow leopard, will think about breeding. It is certain.

But from the days you looked at your children, you knew they wouldn't have a good life among humans.

Their mother is a human and their father is a snow leopard. What can happen? They may try to catch them for research. After all, people do not know such a thing.

In almost a year of being with that gorgeous snow leopard you love, you haven't learned a thing.

He is not of this world.

"Sometimes during the mating season we go to the human world. There we are looking for luck to find a partner. When we take her to our world, she will become like us. There are few snow leopards with us and with you. I am a young male, therefore there was a chance I wouldn't find a female of my species easily. But compared to your wild snow leopards, we bond as mates forever. Just like the rest of Beastman. All animals. Cats, dogs, fish, birds, reptiles. All. But by the time I found a mate here, I realized I couldn't find one, because there's none around." He said holding your son in his arms.

"You were just being dramatic." You laughed as you fed your son who was wrapping a little tail around your hand.

"I was not. I wouldn't die. I wanted to go back and wait until the next mating season. But then I felt a fertile female." he pointed at you. "Beastman can breed with human and the babies will be beastman. My babies are snow leopards. If you were a snow leopard too, they would have been born into a full snow leopard. But you're human, so they'll have to learn to change into a cat instead of a human. Well, it's better to master two legs first than four." He laughed.

"I'm worried about them... And you... You're not human... How are we supposed to live among humans?" Tears welled up in your eyes..

"Maybe I'll never be human and you'll never be a snow leopard or any other animal. Our children too. But in my world, what we have is normal."

He sat next to you, rubbing your cheek with the tip of his tail and then his thumb.

"We have few humans, but some agree to be mate for someone. Just like you. Have you ever wondered why there aren't any humans with animal attributes around here?"

You nodded and sideways.

"This is because each mate will look after his partner. Looking for a partner, we also go here. And when we find it, we come back to us knowing that it will be best there."

"Couldn't you have told me earlier?" You asked with a slightly furrowed brow.

He tilted his head back with a strange expression as if he was thinking.

"I always forgot that... And I also thought not to stress you when you're pregnant..." He scratched his chin as he thought.

Nice of him. Because that would be stressful.

"Our world is like this. Only instead of people there are beastmen. People like me walk the streets. Everything is the same. I have my own big house and lots of money. It's the perfect start for our family!"

You saw his big smile on his face.

"You want to..."

"Come with me to my world! And let's live as we should live! Together with the children! Nothing will ever happen there! Our children will be wonderful there! My clan will be happy!"

Gojo Clan, Snow Leopards Clan. A whole family like him?

Well, apparently he has a distant cousin who is an ordinary cat... There aren't that many snow leopards.

In your world, they would never accept that.

In his world, a man as a mate is something normal. You gave life to two more snow leopards. Or will there be more in the future?

You love Satoru and your children. You want the best for them.

You never want to leave them and you don't want anything to happen to them.

You will be the perfect mate and the perfect mother.

You want their happiness so much.

That snow leopard is your snow leopard. your mate. your love.

The only place where you can live the way you want is his world. A world where you don't have to go back to people and you will see their smiles. The smiles of your whole family. Children and your Satoru.

You agreed.

You will live in his world.

Because you love that snow leopard. And that snow leopard loves you.

Taglist: @tohsri; @hren17; @weebotaku21; @yihona-san06; @mikkies; @raysheil; @dreeamiea; @safaia-47; @porridgesblog; @weebnk-popper; @mc-reborn

#jjk x you #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #Snow Leopard Gojo Satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you

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