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roosterforme · 2 months

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Short notice before the start of a deployment was bad enough, but Bradley was left worrying about so much more. And if he didn't figure it out quickly, he thought he might lose you. How would you and he make it through the worst kind of time apart?

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your boyfriend was acting strange, and now you had the distinct feeling he was lying to you. You sat on your bed after work on Friday with tears in your eyes as you tried to process the fact that you barely heard from him after you sent the topless picture the day before. Usually that kind of thing got him going in a good way, and he kept telling you he was fine, but it didn't seem that way. You just couldn't figure out what happened.

A few minutes ago, you texted him about the plan for the weekend. You really wanted to talk to him about your upcoming winter break, too. You were supposed to be heading to his house right now, but you were having second thoughts as you read the latest message from him again.

I know we were supposed to go to Salvatore's tonight, but I think we need to talk instead.

This sounded so bad to you. It didn't sound like he simply had a long day and just wanted to relax on the couch with you. This was something that built up over the past two days, and now you felt tears in your eyes as you scooped up your overnight bag and headed out.

"Just get it over with," you told yourself as you drove. You tried to focus on your playlist, but your mind was wandering to the plethora of reasons why I think we need to talk spelled disaster.

After you fought your way through rush hour traffic and pulled up to park in front of Bradley's house which you were supposed to move into next month, you noticed he was sitting on the porch step, waiting for you. And he didn't look very happy.

"Hi," he greeted with a poor attempt at a smile as he slowly stood and made his way over to you. He looked tall, broad and handsome in his uniform, but he didn't call you Gorgeous.

"What's wrong?" you asked, not even bothering to get your bag out of your car before you met him halfway up his walkway.

He pulled you in for a hug, and you could feel his lips on your ear as he lied to you again. "Nothing's wrong."

"Bradley," you said, trying to pull out of his grasp. He let you go, but now he wasn't even pretending to smile. You swallowed and whispered, "You've been acting strange since yesterday. I thought maybe work was getting to you, or that you just needed a day of quiet to yourself. But clearly this has to do with me, so just tell me what's wrong."

"It's not you," he replied instantly, taking a step closer with a pained look on his face. "God, it's absolutely not you."

When you looked at him more closely, it was obvious he was exhausted. Like maybe he hadn't even slept last night. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were sagging forward just enough that he looked almost defeated.

"Bradley."

He looked down at the sidewalk before meeting your eyes again. "I found out yesterday... I'm being deployed."

The wave of emotion didn't hit you as hard as it could have, because you'd given this a lot of thought, but you were still rendered speechless. You'd mentally planned for this. Deployments were a way of life for him. But the tears were back as you asked, "When?"

"Day after Christmas," he murmured miserably. "But that's not all."

Your voice wouldn't work as you looked up at him, vision blurring his handsome features into something that was almost frightening. "What?"

He paused while you swiped at your eyes, and just when you thought you were going to have to force it out of him, he said, "It's with the Atlantic Fleet. Out of Norfolk, Virginia. They... they said they want me permanently."

"No," you sobbed, realizing that your tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. Now it made perfect sense. You knew why he'd been acting so odd. "You want to break up before you leave."

"What?" Bradley replied, his voice sharp as he reached for you again. "No. No, Gorgeous. I don't."

You felt ridiculous, crying in his arms in his front yard, but all you could say was, "Then why didn't you just tell me yesterday that you're going back to Virginia?"

"Fuck," he grunted, tucking you tighter against him. "Does this mean you don't want to dump me?"

You inhaled the smell of his deodorant and jet fuel as you cried. "Why on earth would you think I'd want to dump you? I'm in love with you."

He started to back toward the front door, his hold on you never relenting as he murmured, "Now that I know you're not going to leave, let's go inside where we can talk and snuggle on the couch."

--------------------------

Bradley had been waiting on his porch step for almost an hour for you to arrive, thinking there was a real chance that you'd drive off again. He was tired and hungry, and he'd spent the last day and a half trying to figure out what was going on with his job. But more than anything, he was afraid you hadn't changed your stance on falling for a guy who lived on the opposite side of the country.

Shit. He made you cry. You were still crying as he led you over to the couch where you ended up sitting on his lap. He was trying to wipe your tears away as you just shook your head. "I'm sorry, Baby," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you like this."

You sucked in a few breaths before you managed to say, "Let me make sure I have this straight. You're leaving for Virginia. And you don't know when you're coming back, if at all?"

"Yeah," he whispered. There was no point in beating around the bush about it. "The deployment out of Norfolk is a done deal. Leaving on the twenty-sixth is a done deal. I'm trying my hardest to fight the rest of it."

"You can do that?" you asked, letting your forehead rest against his.

Bradley kissed you softly. He couldn't stop himself with you this close. "I'm trying. I don't want to leave San Diego. Virginia used to feel like home, but it hasn't for a long time. Especially not since I met you. So a permanent change of station is something I will fight until they force it on me."

You kissed him this time, and he knew nowhere would feel like home without you. But he couldn't retire yet, and he didn't want to have to ask you to uproot your life for him. He just made himself dizzy, chasing his thoughts around in circles.

"Is there anything I can do?" you asked.

He wanted to beg you to stay with him no matter what, but he couldn't do that either. "Remember when I was deployed last time and you told me you were afraid I was stationed somewhere far away from you? And how you would have to brace yourself to say goodbye instead of pursuing something?" You nodded against him, arms around his neck as he whispered, "I thought about that all night last night. About how this could be the end for us."

"Stop it," you said before pressing your lips to his. "I don't feel that way anymore at all. It wasn't even a deal breaker when I said it months ago, and I hadn't even met you in person yet. I'm not going anywhere, Bradley. We'll figure it out."

He eased himself down along the couch, keeping you firmly on top of him as he sighed in relief. Suddenly fighting for his job with the Pacific Fleet didn't seem as daunting. He had to figure it out though, because he wanted to stay here and get married. "Say my name again?" he asked, knowing exactly how much you could calm him down when he let you in.

"Bradley," you whispered, settling against his chest as he closed his eyes.

"I love you, Gorgeous."

He didn't realize exactly how tired and stressed he was until he woke up close to midnight, alone on the couch with a blanket draped over him, still wearing his uniform and boots. As soon as he opened his eyes, his head was pounding from the events of the week, but he could smell something cooking.

Bradley rolled off the couch while his stomach growled, and he made his way into the kitchen where you were wearing his sweatshirt and making a grilled cheese sandwich while you looked at your phone. "Hey," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You quickly swiped out of the photo album and tossed your phone aside.

"I was going to wake you up soon. You have almost no food here, but you need to eat," you told him, turning to face him. He had no food, because he originally planned to take you out tonight, and now there was no point in going grocery shopping since he was leaving. Your expression was unreadable, and he didn't like that.

"What I need is to spend as much time with you as I can between now and Norfolk." Your lips curved up into a small smile. "I should have told you what was going on as soon as I found out."

You nodded. "I know we haven't been together long, but I'm taking this pretty fucking seriously, Bradley."

"Me, too," he promised. "And it's really hot when you swear." When you laughed, he felt so much better. "Listen, you're absolutely stuck with me now, okay? I'll figure this shit out, but you're stuck with me, and we're going to get married someday."

"Sounds good," you replied easily, still smiling. "But right now you need to eat."

----------------------------

You felt better with Bradley's arm around you than you had all day. You couldn't believe he'd been hanging onto your words from his last deployment. You were surprised he could still possibly think that distance would mean anything to you. Both of you agreed not to get ahead of yourselves. Uprooting your life and your career would leave you devastated, but you'd start over again for him.

"Were you just looking at the dirty picture you sent me?" Bradley asked as he bit into half of the sandwich while another one cooked.

"Yes," you whispered before nibbling on your own sandwich half.

"Shit," he mumbled, dropping his food back onto the plate where he stood in the kitchen. "I never even told you how much I loved it."

"No. You didn't."

He wiped his hands on his uniform shirt. "God, I keep fucking up. I got so sidetracked by the orders from Norfolk that I couldn't even think. I loved that photo."

You turned away to flip the second grilled cheese sandwich in the pan. "I thought you got tired of me sending them." Bradley's hand moved faster than his brain as he flicked the knob on the stove, turning it off. "Hey," you protested, turning to look at him again, but he pulled the spatula out of your hand and tossed it into the sink. "Bradley!"

He mashed his lips against yours, silencing you as his hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer until you were pressed tight to the front of his body. Then he let his hands slide along your bare skin from your legs, over your perfect ass, up until they were on your lower back. "I'll do better," he promised. "And right now, I want to show you how not fucking tired of you I am."

A minute later, you were on your back on the edge of his bed, legs thrown over his shoulders while he ate your pussy. Your fingers were tangled up in his hair as he knelt on the floor, and his sweatshirt was bunched up above your tits. "I will never get tired of you," he swore before licking a long stripe up to your clit. If you thought for a second that he would want to throw in the towel over long distance, he needed to make sure you understood he never would.

"Bradley," you moaned as he sucked on your clit. His insignia pins were digging into the back of your thigh, as was his name tag. He would figure this out. He would figure everything out. Leaving in a handful of days was not ideal, but as long as you still wanted him, he was all in.

"Oh my god," you whined, back arching as Bradley realized he was being a bit rougher with you than usual. But he couldn't stop. His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you in place as you tried to rock against him.

His mouth was demanding as he sucked on and plucked at your clit, but you just kept getting louder for him. Your legs were shaking, heels digging into his shoulder blades, but he didn't stop until you came. With his tongue still swirling your clit as you yanked on his hair, Bradley quickly unzipped his khaki pants and pulled himself free. He positioned himself at your entrance as you tugged until his mouth was on yours.

"You liked it rough," he grunted between kisses slick with your arousal.

"I did," you answered, rolling your hips to take the tip of him. As your fingers trailed down to his pins, you asked, "Are you going to fuck me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" He watched you gasp, mouth agape as he filled you with one deep thrust, and then your head tipped back as you moaned, "I'll take that as a yes."

His lips found that sweet spot next to your ear that he loved to kiss. "I just want to ensure that you'll miss me as much as I miss you while we're apart."

Your voice was softer as you said, "You don't have to worry about that."

Bradley kissed along your neck and told you how much he loved you before absolutely pounding you into the mattress.

-----------------------------

You and Bradley slept in so late on Saturday morning, you heard him wander out to the living room when Natasha arrived to go for a run to tell her he'd workout on Sunday instead. When he tried to slip back into bed, you rolled over toward him.

"Sorry. It was just Nat. I forgot I told her days ago that we could run." He gathered you against his chest and kissed your forehead.

You grinned and said, "I heard you tell her that the love of your life was more appealing today than working out."

"I sure did," he grunted and ran his big, heavy hand down your back. "You're always more appealing than anything else, Gorgeous. But if I don't run, I'll gain so much weight. You know how much I eat."

A smile found your lips as you thought about the rough sex followed by another round of grilled cheese sandwiches at two in the morning. "Can we skip Salvatore's again tonight? I'd rather stay here and feed you. We can go to Salvatore's when your deployment ends and you return to San Diego."

Bradley sighed. "And if I get told my new station is in Norfolk?"

You pressed your fingertip to his lips. "We're not humoring that thought yet. Instead, we're going to snuggle and fuck and maybe watch a Christmas movie. Okay?"

"Nothing has ever sounded better."

After that, Sunday was spent with the two of you trying to use up as much of his food as you could. You even managed to bake some cookies that he ate a dozen of in one sitting, and then you found a strand of twinkle lights in his hallway closet where you discreetly squished a spider without telling him. You helped him hang the lights on his porch railing as he laughed and said, "I don't usually celebrate holidays anymore."

"You do now," you informed him, making a mental note to have your students make some cards for him this week before he left. Bradley would be very busy over the next few days, and you didn't want to stress him out about the holiday. But just when you were about to ask him if there was a chance he'd want to spend Christmas Day with you before he flew to Norfolk, he said, "Maybe we can get Thai food on Christmas, and you can help me finish packing?"

You nodded and tried to keep the tears at bay, afraid to admit to him that the future you were so sure of was scaring you a bit. Being without him for a deployment was manageable, but the last thing you wanted to do was move across the country. At least you'd have your regular pen pal back while he was on the aircraft carrier; having Bradley in your email inbox on a regular basis again was better than nothing.

"That sounds perfect," you told him, knowing you'd do whatever it took to make this work.

----------------------------

When Bradley was called in to talk to Cyclone, he was exhausted for a different reason. Although the weekend started out laced with uncertainty between you and him, it bloomed into something sweet. On Sunday evening, you held his hand and walked along the windswept beach until it got too chilly, and then you helped him start packing. You'd had some tears in your eyes that he brushed away as you folded his clothes into tiny rectangles and stuck by his side.

Now the only uncertainty he felt came from the U.S. fucking Navy. With a deep breath and squared shoulders, he opened Cyclone's office door after he knocked. It wasn't surprising that Mav and Warlock were there, too, but he couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one regarding a change of station. He raised his hand into the proper salute.

"Admirals. Captain."

The three men returned the courtesy before Cyclone sank into his office chair. "Have a seat, Lieutenant." His voice sounded gruff and perhaps even more annoyed than usual as Bradley slowly sat down opposite him. "Captain Mitchell," he barked at Maverick who procured a folder from behind his back and handed it to Bradley. Then he turned toward Bradley again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, you'll report to the USS Gerald R. Ford in a matter of days to rendezvous with the air strike team."

Bradley nodded and skimmed the paperwork inside the folder regarding the sensitive nature of the mission, but he didn't much care about what they wanted him to do when he got there. "Sir, can you tell me where I'll be stationed once this mission is completed?"

Cyclone leaned back in his seat, brow puckered, arms crossed over his chest. "Naval Station Norfolk has, as you know, requested you specifically to round out their Super Hornet team permanently."

"Yes, Sir," Bradley replied, practically choking on the words. He would have never thought the promise of Virginia would feel like a threat to his happiness, but here he was. "I would really prefer to stay in San Diego," he added, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

Cyclone leaned forward in his seat with a weary sigh. "Admiral Simpson, Captain Mitchell and myself all agree that the Pacific Fleet is very well balanced at the moment. Losing a reliable pilot to the Atlantic at this point would not be ideal." The tension in Bradley's body eased up momentarily before Cyclone said, "But I can only do so much to keep the status quo when there is a clear need across the board."

Bradley wanted to ask why nobody else was even in consideration when Warlock cleared his throat and said, "There's a price to pay when you're the best of the best."

There was a beat of silent agreement amongst the four of them before Cyclone heaved a deep breath. "I'll do what I can," he said simply. "In the meantime, prepare for your flight to Norfolk. The information is in the folder. And prepare to be out of communication with any and all civilians for the duration."

Bradley's heart stopped. He opened the folder again, but his eyes couldn't seem to focus on the words in front of him as the pages all blurred together. His fingers scrambled as he swallowed hard, and finally he looked up at the older man seated behind the desk. "No communication at all. For the duration?"

Cyclone nodded once. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

---------------------------

It was just something silly, but when you saw it while you were out shopping, you bought Bradley another Christmas present. You wrapped it up in red and gold paper along with the Mira Mesa Elementary School sweatshirt you got in his size. Then you threw the gifts along with the collection of cards from your students in your overnight bag and tried to keep yourself calm as you drove down to Coronado.

You would have a few days with your boyfriend at the beginning of your winter break before you took him to the airport and sent him off to Norfolk. There would be plenty of things to keep you busy while he was away, including packing up your apartment before your lease ended. But now you'd be moving into his house without him there.

All of the twinkle lights and decorated trees gave you a bittersweet feeling in the pit of your stomach as you drove down his street, but at least this time when you parked, he jumped up from his porch step and met you at your car.

"Gorgeous," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you. His old sweatshirt was currently keeping you warm, and you really wanted him to have his new one for his deployment. You kissed him hard, noting the look of apprehension on his face, but chalking it up to the stress of the unknown.

You kissed him again and kept your arms around his neck as he picked up your bag. "I was going to say we should wait until Christmas morning, but I want you to open your presents now."

His voice was deep and raspy and right next to your ear as he led you inside. "You did not have to get me anything." He kissed your cheek and added, "I need to tell you something important."

"After you open these," you agreed, reaching into the bag and pulling out both gifts before he set it down.

Bradley studied your face before running his thumb along your cheek. "Sure. After I open these."

He took the wrapped packages as you tugged him toward the couch with your hands on his bicep, and you ended up halfway on his lap as he carefully tore at the paper like he didn't want to harm it too much.

"Just rip it," you said with a soft laugh, but he shook his head and looked up at you.

"It's too pretty," he replied. "And nobody gets me gifts, ever. Unless you count coupons for steak dinners from Natasha."

You laughed a little louder as you imagined the laundry list of weird gifts his best friend must have given him over the years. When he finally had his hands on the sweatshirt, he sat frozen with a smile on his face. "I love this. I kind of feel like an honorary faculty member at your school."

"You're a legend in my classroom, Bradley," you promised, snuggling a little closer as he set the shirt aside and carefully unwrapped the second item. This one would mean more to you while he was away, and you hoped he understood just how much you were going to miss his voice and his touch. But you'd still have something from your pen pal.

"Oh," Bradley said softly as he held the navy blue stationery set on his lap. It included note cards, luxuriously thick paper and a gold pen. You could already picture his handwriting on the pages.

"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."

"Gorgeous," he groaned, setting the stationery down on his coffee table before burying his face in his hands. "That's not gonna happen."

------------------------------

Atlantic Fleet, here we come. But for how long? No pen pals. No email. No letters. This deployment already hurts. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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sumiresou · 2 months

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Izuku's Clingy-ness Pt. 2

part 1 here!

Izuku Midoriya x Girlfriend/Fem! Reader

warning: Clingybf! Izuku, cuteness, sneaking to other's dorms in the middle of the night to sneakily gain some cuddles, cuddling! of course, daily dose of dopamine, kissing evil giggle.

a/n: wrote this on a plane and writing this high as FUCK off of medicine I took the entire 8 hour trip. I feel great and very woozy. also I bought a new bonnet. Will they ever release a Rei Todoroki figure? I want to put Dabi and her next to eachother, mom and son bonding time... ignoring canon as long as possible.

Beta Read by 'where in the hell is my Beta Reader?'

You quietly snuck into the dorms, holding in your laughter as you saw Mina and Kirishima huddled up, passed out on the couch. Nobody needed to live in the dorms anymore, however most did anyways. It just felt right after everything.

Your day was hectic to say the least. With your relative texting you about needing a babysitter ASAP and not knowing who else to text that she could trust her boys with. And of course, you couldn’t turn her down. You could always catch up on notes anyday, while she couldn't leave the boys alone for one hour unless they were asleep or practicing their quirks.

It wasn’t as easy as most babysitters made it seem, but it wasn't unexpected. With them wanting to go to the park, then to an ice cream truck and then to a game store. It was a pain on your legs, and only reminded you of how much better you would've felt if you just said 'I can't, I'm sorry!'

Snapping back to reality. You continued on the way to your room, you stumble across Tokoyami huddled like a sewage rat in the kitchen, sneaking in a late night snack. Is... that a frozen rat... eugh... After an awkward amount of eye contact that you would like to forget about, you continued on your journey to your humble abode. Hoping to forget your terrors of roommates.

As you reached your door, it creaked open, reminding you of needing to oil it incase you and Izuku get caught doing these late night sleepovers, where you just slept and didn't infact play Just Dance at 2 in the morning and have an angry 2B student knocking on your door.

Now however, you were back at the dorms, ready to crash.

The room was dark, and the sheets unmade, different from how you left it before, your boyfriend had already gone to sleep on your way back. Despite his whining, you didn’t come back til late into the night. “Izu?” You whispered into the darkness of the room. “Mn.” The green haired man replied, his hair all messy and half of his face a soft pink due to the pillow.

You smiled, kicking off your shoes and walking over to the bed, lifting up the covers and looking down at him. “Mn… Baby?” Izuku opened his eyes, staring up at you through the dark, electric green eyes dancing with yours. “Hi Izuku.” You smiled, taking off your shirt and slipping into bed.

Izuku closed his eyes again and wrapped his arms around your neck, entangling his legs with yours. “… I missed you.” You chuckled, planting kisses on his cheek. “I heard, Mina told me all about how you were moping around all day as the guys dragged you out of the dorms.” Hearing of that, a small blush creeped up on his face, a small thread of embarassment sinking into his brain.

“… Do you need the notes for tomorrow?” Izuku mumbled asking as he buried his head in the crevice of your neck. You hummed, your hands playing with his hair, detangling all of the knots he has yet to brush out. You yawned, stretching your body making Izuku groan. “Maybe. Was it the same stuff from last week?” Izuku shook his head. “No, we are going over rescue operations.” Well fuck. You sighed and curled yourself tighter around Izuku. “Well screw me, I guess. Yeah I’ll need the notes…”

Izuku planted soft kisses against your neck then smiled. “I missed you, thank you for coming back.” You hummed, slowly falling to sleep listening to his soft breathing.

all dividers unless stated otherwise are made by @strangergraphics

#bnha x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #mha x reader #sassy izuku takeover #writers on tumblr #mha fluff #my hero academia x reader

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octopiys · 15 days

Text

Lost and Found

Prev | Next

You wake in a bed that is not your own. You start, pushing the covers off and practically falling off the bed and scramble towards the door. You pray you don't find it locked.

It swings open with ease, and you run face first into a very concerned Simon, who moves his cup of tea up and out of the way so it doesn't spill anywhere.

"Woah woah, there, what's got yer knickers in a twist?"

"You- I was- I don't know how-" You gesture vaguely back to the bedroom, that was not yours, heart pounding in your chest as you fail to explain what was going on.

Scraggle weaves into your legs, purring as it brushes up against you. Pay attention to it. Please.

"Honey, listen." He says rather bluntly, steeling you into your senses. "Ya fell asleep on the couch last night. Didn't want ya to have a bad back this mornin' so I moved you to my bed, it was closer. Didn't stay in there, tucked you in an' left. Not that kinda guy."

You swallow, looking down to pick up Scraggle, who seems very upset that you have not given it nearly enough attention. Simon's eyes follow your actions, before you look up at him, and meet deep brown irises.

"....what kind of guy are you, then?" You ask softly, toeing the water. You knew next to nothing about him. Other than his name, and he rescued you, like he rescued everything else in his house.

He lowers his tea, and slurps it loudly, accidentally-on-purpose, and you smile.

"Fed the dogs this morning. Breakfast is in the kitchen." He grunts, before turning away. You notice how he doesn't answer your question. You wonder if he doesn't know the answer.

Scraggle yowls. It wants food too. Give it food. Give it.

You make your way down the hall, trying to make sure that you look at least somewhat presentable.

The kitchen smelled nice. You took a little bit of everything, but not too much, still on the fence. You'd take what you can get, but not enough to leave a noticeable mark.

Simon's sitting at the table, typing something into his phone.

You didn't have one of those. Didn't have much use for one, either. If you needed to look something up, which, apparently, is something people do, you use the house computer.

It's the start of a sunny day, warm light bathing the kitchen through the windows above the sink. You sit down across from Simon as you eat quietly. Some bits you leave untouched. Not your favorites.

"Simon." You start softly. "Where did you sleep last night?"

"Couch." He grumbles, but not in a mean way.

"I thought you said-?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm used to it. Slept in worse places." His eyes crinkle like it was some inside joke you didn't understand. But you feel like you've already asked too many questions this morning. If he senses your hesitance, he doesn't pay it any mind.

You stand and leave to wash your dish.

Simon asks if you want to go to the market with him. He shows you your list. Tells you he won't leave your side. You can pick out the sauce, and the seasoning.

You're far enough away. Its been enough time. Its been a few weeks. You can go. You can go out for an hour. Nobody would notice. Nobody would see you.

You trust him, right?

"I have some stuff to do around here.... can we make it quick?"

"'Course. 'Course we can." Simon nods, and for a moment, you feel like he knows more than he lets on. But it slips, and you're back at square one.

You grab your work boots, a dark pair that Simon had gotten you two weeks ago. They've got some mud on them, but around here, it was impossible to find someone with perfectly clean everyday shoes.

It's almost twenty minutes into town. That's reassuring to you, distance enough away from folks you don't know, nor want to concern yourself with. It'll be something you could make a day out of, further down the line.

The car ride is quiet.

"....y'mind if we stop at the bookstore?" Simon grunts out as he pulls into a space outside of the supermarket. "Don't have to, but I was plannin' on..."

"That's fine." Simon clocks the way your eyes light up, and you try to play it off, and there's a fuzzy, warm feeling in his chest watching you. Instead of facing it, he gets out of the car, and opens your door.

You stick real close to his side as you walk into the store, practically calling yourself his shadow. He gets a cart. You pull out your little yellow-pad note of a grocers list. He glances down at it fir a moment, then back up to scan the aisle signs above you.

"Right then. This way."

Luckily, today there were no crowds in the market, and they had everything you needed. You were beginning to feel a little excited, like warmth in the tips of your fingers. You liked cooking, and you liked starting from scratch.

Must be a figurative and a literal thing, huh?

As you walk up to the check out, you push the cart. You pass the last aisle, and stop abruptly. Simon, not paying attention, runs directly into the cart, and then looks down at it like it personally offended him.

"Y'alright, honey?" He asks, his hand ghosting down near your waist, the curve of your back, a strong, secure point. His hand is warm.

You cock your head, and turn the cart down the last aisle.

Then you come back with a bag of marshmellos in the cart. Simon raises an eyebrow, but doesn't judge you for it.

"Wha'ssat for?" He asks, joining you at your side as you push the cart towards the check out, determined.

"I read on the computer that raccoons like marshmellos. We have treats for the cats and the dogs, but with Tres in the family now, I mean, he's just a little guy, and little guys gotta have treats too, sometimes, right?" You ask, looking up at him.

There's a fire in your doe eyes, like no matter if he agreed with you or not, you were taking those goddamn marshmellos to little baby Tres. He smirks, peering down at you, before squeezing the curve of your shoulder assuringly, before putting the bag of marshmellos up on the check out conveyor.

Yeah, the little guys gotta have a treat, too.

You've been a little less skittish, recently. Less Bambi-like, no longer wobbly kneed and hesitant– at least, not terrified to ask anymore. But it was little touches that got you out of it, small things, like the brush of a hand, or knocking his knee to yours, or wiping flour off your cheek.

Simon has his own story, and he knows you have yours. He doesn't expect you to question his, nor would he you, but he's seen the marks. He's seen the way you wince, like a few mornings ago, when you limped into the kitchen and brushed off his concern and braced the day without a complaint. Just grateful to have food in your belly, and a warm roof over your head. It ignites a fire in his chest, one that burns right through his heart and lungs, knowing that someone or something out there did this to you, and you wouldn't tell him who it was. Anger. He'd never been quite good with that. All in due time, he supposes.

He knows you've seen his scars, too. The trees are starting to grow over the house, and the way the branches grow are unstable. He's gotta cut some of them back. It's broiling out, so he shuns his shirt as he works on the roof, careful not to put his foot through a sensitive spot in the roof, or startle the raccoons, and he forgets, because he doesn't have to care when he's home.

You bring him lemonade when you see him come down. Your eyes linger on his bare skin, damp with sweat, and he feels... Like you see him for more than he appears, standing before you. Your eyes catch on each jagged mark, each curved line cut and carved deliberately into the patchwork of his skin. It's strangely sensual, how you both stand in the kitchen with your eyes on one another, simply cataloging the indents of people he once knew, and couldn't care enough to remember, because remembering replaces this. This soft moment, your eyes misted over, hip resting on the cabinet.

Maybe he overlooks the way that you seem to be looking at him for more than he is, and he sees you, too. Your eyes practically glow in the golden light of the afternoon, skin softer now with safety, a net he provided. The creature in his chest purrs at the sight of it, the softness of you in your entirety, knowing that it was his doing, a strange kind of possessiveness there that made him want to sink his teeth in, that would drown a man if kept unchecked.

But he's always been a good swimmer.

The worry in your face is still there, but no longer carved as deep. Your hands intricate, short nails nearly bitten off, lined with your own struggle, your own story, as your fingers grap around the cool glass of lemonade, and he doesn't think he's ever longed to be an inanimate object more. He blinks, scared for a split second that when he opens his eyes, this domesticity would be gone, a faux scenario in his fragmented, wretched mind, and yet, you're still there.

He found you. You haven't gone anywhere.

What's that they say? Finders keepers?

He doesn't plan on letting you go, any time soon. And he's not one to lose, either.

Your lips are soft, pursed as your eyes glance up to meet his, half lidded. Minx. You don't have any idea what you do to him.

You look like you're about to say something-

Scraggle yowls, headbutting Simon in the leg, and the moment breaks.

And you laugh, and he does too. He feels dizzy.

The bookstore is on the corner of the block. He loaded the bags into the car, refusing to let you even lift a finger.

You glared at him. He let you shut the trunk.

A small bell twinkled overhead as you walked into the dusty bookstore. There were a few plants that hung in the front window, the decorated neon sign buzzing.

There were a few tables, along with a coffee maker and a pastry case, one of those glass ones like you see in a bakery. Anywhere you look has at least one plant, and a stack of books. There were quite a few shelves, and you couldn't quite tell what was what. There was a staircase in the back, winding up to a second floor, where there were more shelves, but a sign near the top read 'Music', so you assumed that it would be CDs or something. It was pretty overwhelming, as your eyes adjusted to the soft lighting and the smell of lavender and... something you couldn't quite place a name to.

He watches your eyes dart around, shoulders tense, before you blink slowly, and take a deep breath, before pushing forward.

Pride causes him to smirk, as a woman appears from behind the counter.

She doesn't say anything at first, watching you scan the shelves, and quickly make your way over to the little fantasy section she has. She glances over at Simon, who approaches her but doesn't take his eyes off of you.

"Who's the new thing?" The woman asks, careful to keep her voice low.

Simon huffs, the question rolling off him. "Where's the Scot, Peach?"

"He's-"

"Hey, LT!" Exclaims a very loud man from the top of the staircase. He makes his way down the steps, before clapping Simon on the shoulder.

Your curiousity piques, as you look over a shorter shelf to watch Simon and this mystery fellow interact, hidden away in this little alcove of book stacks. Your hands find purchase flipping through the yellowed pages of an old book, one you remember from a long, long time ago.

They share a few words, nothing you can make out, really, before all three turn and look at you.

You duck, not wanting to be caught dropping any eaves.

"Been through the wringer that one has, havin' ended up wit' ye." Johnny comments, crossing his arms over his chest as you duck.

"Fuck off, Soap." He grumbles, starting to regret this idea. "You want pasta or not?"

"We-" A manicured hand slides over Johnny's mouth, his partner electing to ensure he doesn't screw up dinner plans.

"We'll be there if it's all good with the missus." She says smoothly, recovering as she glances over towards you.

Simon hums, and she sees he still hasn't taken his eyes off you. "Something going on with you, Riley?"

Simon hums again, not fully paying attention.

"Oi, earth to Ghost!" Johnny snaps, before realization dawns on him. "Oh- oh, yer down bad, aren't-"

"MacTavish, if you say another word, I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

".....note taken."

"How's Lord Scraggle doing?" Always good for a save, that Peach.

Of course, Peach wasn't her real name. But it's what Soap called her. It's what everyone knew her as. But, like everyone else, they had their own reasonings. And Ghost... Well, he respects her enough not to ever get in her way. Ever.

Simon buys you the old copy of the Hobbit you'd been clutching. You're shyly introduced to his friend Soap, and Peach. You introduce yourself too, and Peach repeats you to make sure she gets it right. In a bold move, you look to Simon and invite them to dinner. He shrugs, and looks to them. Peach tells you yes, and Soap looks like he's been kicked before he agrees, too. He looks familiar. You're not sure from where.

You talk about your book on the way home. Simon listens to every single bit of it, even if it might seem to you that he isn't. He doesn't tell you that he's read all the books too. If he could forget that he has, just to listen to you tell it to him as if it's his first time, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

The raccoons are under your- Simon's porch when you both get home. You squeak in excitement, rummaging through one of the bags on Simon's arms before sitting down in front of the porch, with your hand outstretched, a small marshmello sitting at the tips of your fingers.

Then, the smallest little grabby hand reaches up through the slats in the boards and takes the marshmello, tugging it down through the porch. You think you could cry.

Simon huffs a laugh and pulls you back to your feet as you both go inside.

And Scraggle dubs you to be a traitor, feeding other things than the cat. After all, is Scraggle not the most important thing in your life? Seriously, this cat is starved for attention every day, what a horrible, horrible house, death to mother and father, death for- oh, bowls are full again! Okay, maybe Scraggle can forgive you. It's already forgotten what it's upset about.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #modern warfare 2 #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

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cr-komi · 9 months

Text

"I Need to Know"

Summary: After a daunting sex experience, you're left with the idea that you're bad at sex, but is that really true? Or should you go to someone else to see if they can be honest with you about the truth?

Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader (F)

Genre: Smut, fluff (just a little bit at the very end)

Word Count: 6,200+

Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, please!), multiple orgasms

Author's Note: I'm back! It was super fun writing the last story so I'm doing it again :) I hope you all enjoy this one just as much as the last. Again, it's not really proofread per say? More like I just skimmed through it to quickly check for mistakes. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

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"Wait, what did he tell you?"

Your best friend, Sana, had been resting lazily on the arm of the couch, quietly listening as you recollected the events of last night: going to a bar, meeting a guy who, unfortunately, was a total walking red flag, although due to your state of intoxication you were too blind to notice, getting into a car with him and going back to his apartment, and totally fucking up by having sex with him.

To your dismay, your memory had been completely clear, up until the moment you slept with him.

"He told me I was a bad lay." You mumbled, head hanging low.

"Jesus, what an asshole," she retorted, maneuvering herself so that she was facing you, insead of the wall she was previously eye-to-eye with, "why do you think he would say something like that?"

"Well, I know why, actually." You responded, eyes still averted towards the plush rug beneath you, "because the morning after we...you know...did it, he asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship, and I said...well, I said no."

Your words echoed in the stillness of the living room, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.

You hesitated, unsure of how to continue. The shame of your confession still lingered heavily in the air, a painful reminder of your poor judgment.

"Okay," Sana said quietly, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. "So he asked you if you wanted to like...date, and you said you rejected him. Then what happened?"

"Well...he got all mad at me. Saying shit like, 'Oh, I only got with you as a joke,' and 'You're nothing more than just a cocksleeve,' then he told me I sucked at sex and kicked me out."

"Don't worry, Y/N, you probably just bruised his ego and that's how he responded. It's nothing to be upset or embarrassed over."

You looked up at her, your eyes welling with tears. "I know, but I can't get those words out of my head. I mean, does he really think I'm bad at sex? Granted, it's not like I'm an expert or anything like that but--"

Sana reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Sweetie, you're not bad at sex, trust me. He was just...mad but you'll both get over it. Don't let one asshole ruin your self-image."

"I'm trying, but it's kind of hard, you know? Everytime I try to have sex with a guy it lasts two minutes so they can use me to get themselves off, and then they move on to someone else. I just wish I could find someone who would be honest with me about this whole situation, someone who--"

Suddenly, a light switch went off in your head. You did know someone who could truly tell you if you were bad at sex or not. It may not be ideal, but you can only hope he'll say yes.

"I just...I just thought of something." You whispered, a hint of excitement and nervousness in your voice, "I know someone who can help me out. Someone who could... validate my skills in bed."

"Who is it?" Sana asked, equally intrigued and cautious.

You shot up from your seat on the floor, your phone falling out of your lap in the process, causing a loud crash to erupt the silence that had settled between the two of you.

Sana flinched at the sound, but continued her feat to get an answer out of you, "Well? Who the fuck do you know that can help you out?"

"Uh, it's uh...it's a little weird," you stammered, gently grabbing your phone from off the floor and checking for damages, although none were visible. You didn't want to go through with this, but deep down you knew it was the only option you had.

"Come on, Y/N, spill the beans!" Sana prodded, her voice filled with curiosity.

You hesitated for a moment, your face flushed with embarrassment, "I...I can't I promise I will tell you everything later but can you...will you..."

Sana laughed, "You want me to leave?"

"No, it's not that I want you to, it's just--"

Sana slowly got up from her spot on the couch, “Say no more, Y/N, I know you'll give me all of the juicy details later."

Sana smiled and gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, giving you the space to collect your thoughts.

You took a deep breath and gathered your courage, "Okay. I want you to know that this is... unconventional, but I know it's the only way I can get an honest answer."

"Don't worry, girl, I trust you. Have fun though, and be safe!"

You laughed quietly, "I will."

With a smile on her face, she blew you a kiss before picking up her shoes and gracefully departing. As she closed the door gently, you could hear a soft 'click' resonating in the air.

With a resounding sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, calming your shaking nerves by reminding yourself that you'll get through this. You can't change what happened, but you can take control of what happens next.

With a hint of uncertainty, you muttered to yourself, "Alright, here we go."

You started scrolling through your contacts, nodding as your fingers finally landed on the desired number. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly pressed the dial button, initiating the call.

After a few rings, he finally picked up.

"Hey, Y/N, I haven't heard from you in a while." His voice was raspy, almost tired in a way, and you wanted nothing more than to simply hang up the phone and live your life with the fact that you're probably bad at sex, but you pushed through.

"Yeah, I know. How are you?" You tried as hard as you could to seem as calm as possible, willing yourself to steady your nervous breathing.

He laughed into the phone, "I'm good, tired, I guess, but that's how things usually are."

You forced a laugh, "Yeah, you're right! Th-that is how things go, that's e-exactly how I'm feeling right now. Life after college isn't easy but I-I'm getting through it and I--" You winced, realizing that you had been prattling on for the past minute about things he probably doesn't care about, "S-sorry, I'm rambling."

You could hear him smile through the phone, "That's okay." He paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before continuing, "So, what's up? Did you need something? Or did you just want to check in?"

"Oh, no! I definitely have something to ask you. It's just...kind of hard to say over the phone, can you come over?"

It was dead silent over the line, and you just wanted to crumble into a million pieces. You were so embarrassed. Why did you think this would work? Why did you even think he would say yes to--

"Sure. I'll be over in an hour."

Suddenly, the line went dead, and your mind went numb. Was this really happening? Would he really say yes to this like you hoped he would?

Probably not, but a girl can dream.

Your heart began racing as you realized how close you came to humiliating yourself with your idea. But now, you had a chance to prove yourself and get some real answers.

"I guess I need to get ready." You mumbled, checking the time before scrambling to the shower, ready to shave off every hair on your entire body.

---

The steam enveloped you, a warm cocoon of mist that promised transformation. You stood beneath the cascading water, letting it wash away the remnants of the moments spent waiting for when you could finally see him.

Your fingers combed through your hair, lathering the strands with jasmine-scented shampoo; the fragrance was your favorite, lingering on you like a whispered secret.

"Focus," you murmured to yourself, rinsing the suds from your hair, watching them swirl into the drain. "It's just hanging out, not a life-changing event." But your heart’s fluttering betrayed your casual words.

You reached for the razor, gliding it along your skin with practiced precision, erasing the stubble in smooth strokes. Each movement was methodical, an effort to distract your mind from wandering towards him — his smile, his intellect, his unexpected kindnesses.

"Stop it," you chided yourself, but your lips curved upwards despite the reprimand. "You're just going to jinx it."

After turning off the water, you stepped out onto the plush bath mat, reaching for the towel in an attempt to begin and patting your skin dry. The mirror was fogged over, a ghostly canvas before you. With a sweep of your hand across its surface, your reflection peered back, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability etched onto your features.

"Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Moisturize, makeup, and then--" Suddenly, a loud bang at the door caused you to jump out of your skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was simply your imagination playing tricks on you. But the sound echoed in your ears, undeniable and frightening.

"Who could that be?" You thought, pulse quickening. Fear gripped your chest as you flung the towel around your body, clutching it tightly to your still-damp skin.

"Coming!" You called out, voice wavering slightly. You hurried to the door, your bare feet slapping against the cold tiles, leaving wet footprints in your wake. Every step fueled by a sense of urgency, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

As you reached the door, you swung it open, revealing the last person you expected to be standing there, despite your phone call from earlier.

Namjoon.

He blinked rapidly, clearly not expecting you to answer the door in such a state.

"Namjoon... What are you doing here? You're early," you stammered, taken aback by his unexpected arrival.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at you. "I wanted to come earlier. I just... I don't know, I felt like I needed to see you sooner."

His gaze lingered on you, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of droplets of water cascading down your body, tracing rivulets over your collarbones and along your arms. It was clear that he hadn't anticipated this turn of events, and his obvious distraction only added to the electric charge in the air between the two of you.

"Are you okay?" You asked, your voice a mixture of concern and embarrassment. You couldn't help but feel exposed under his intense gaze, even with the towel wrapped securely around you.

"Uh, yeah," he said again, finally dragging his eyes back up to yours. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you or anything."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked at him, trying to discern his true intentions for coming early. Was it simply impatience that had driven him to your doorstep, or was there something deeper at play?

"Can you give me a moment to get dressed?" you asked softly, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Then we can talk."

"Of course," Namjoon replied, stepping back from the doorway. "Take your time."

"No, no," you continued, slightly stuttering, you can come in, I just need a minute. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch or something if you'd like."

Namjoon nodded, noticing the tremble in your voice. He stepped inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he crossed the room and sat down on the couch. You closed the door behind him and retreated to your bedroom, quickly pulling on a Brandy Melville tank-top and shorts set.

You didn't put on a bra or underwear underneath...just in case.

You emerged a few minutes later, your hair still damp and looking slightly disheveled. Namjoon was still sitting on the couch, his posture relaxed but alert.

"So," he began as you took a seat across from him. "What did you want to ask me?"

Oh, fuck. Here goes nothing.

"Well...I-I was out the other night," you began, voice trembling with nerves, "and, well, me and this guy, well we...I mean he...I mean we met a-at the bar."

Namjoon nodded, listening intently, never taking his eyes off of you.

"So, we went back to his apartment and...well...we, you know, did it."

Namjoon chuckled, feigning innocence, "I think you may have to spell it out for me, Y/N."

"We had sex." You deadpanned, hands shaking slightly, "a-and when I woke up in the morning, I'll spare you the details, but...he told me...h-he told me I-I was a bad...a bad lay."

You could see the disgust and hurt flash across Namjoon's face at the mention of this guy's insensitivity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at you intently.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. No one deserves to hear something like that, especially not you."

"Well...thank you but, I didn't just ask you here for your sympathy."

Namjoon's eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Oh? Well then why did you?"

"Because I..."

Just do it Y/N, it's now or never.

"Because you...?" He continued, trying to make you finish your sentence.

"Because I want your opinion."

You averted your gaze towards the ground, too nervous to gauge his reaction.

"My...opinion?" He echoed, clearly confused.

"I want to know if I'm really bad at sex or not. So...I asked you over because I know you'd be honest with me."

"Y/N, what are you asking me to do?"

"I'm asking you to fuck me...?"

You mumbled the last part, almost embarrassed to have spoken it aloud. Namjoon stared at you for a moment, shocked, before finally speaking, "Is this a joke?"

You hesitated, not sure if this was the right move, but you knew you had to be honest with yourself. With a deep breath, you looked up at Namjoon, meeting his eyes with determination.

"No, it's not a joke," you said firmly. "I want to know, from someone I trust, if I'm really bad at sex or not."

"I-I don't know, Y/N. I mean, seriously? We haven't seen each other in over a year and now you're suddenly asking me to fuck you?" He rose from his place on the couch suddenly pacing back and forth in front of you.

"I know it's sudden but...please if you'd just listen--"

"Y/N, stop. This wouldn't work out. Ever. I'm your brother's best friend."

"But Namjoon, is that--"

"I-I have to go," He interrupted, making a beeline towards the door in an attempt to escape the situation, but you couldn't just let him walk away like this.

Frustrated, you rushed towards him, grabbing him as quickly as possible before he could leave.

He paused, refusing to look at you and instead averting his gaze to the hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Please, Namjoon, just hear me out," you pleaded, your voice a desperate whisper. "I know this is sudden, but I need some closure. I need to know if--"

In an unexpected turn of events, you found yourself taken aback as Namjoon suddenly gripped your shoulders, forcefully slamming you against the door behind you.

The intensity of his tightening grip on your shoulders sent an electric jolt through your body, and you felt your heart rate quicken as you looked up into his eyes. They were filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"You have to understand something, Y/N," He whispered, leaning in so close to your face that you could feel his hot breath fanning against your cheeks, "There's nothing in this world that I want more than to just fuck you senseless, right here, right now, but I need to know how serious you are."

You looked into his eyes, two twin pools of darkness that seemed to be clouded over with lust, "S-serious?" You stammered, "I-I am serious, Namjoon."

Namjoon's eyes pierced into yours, leaving no room for escape from this bold new territory, "Are you sure that this is what you want? You're not afraid of any sort of consequence that might follow?"

"No," you responded, steadying your voice in an attempt to sound confident, "I'm not afraid, Namjoon, I want this. Please."

He looked down for a moment, and you could tell he was battling his inner conscience, deciding on whether he should really fuck his best friend's sister or not.

He released his grip on your shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair, clearly still conflicted.

You could see the desperation and need in his eyes, trying to muster up the courage to do the very thing he knew he shouldn't be doing.

I mean, was this really the right thing to do? What if in the end--

"Fuck it."

He closed the distance between you two, his lips crushing down onto yours in a passionate and hungry kiss. He was taking control of the situation, and he knew exactly what he wanted.

Your hands shot up to his face, your fingers entwining with his hair as you pulled him closer. His hands began to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to his body as he ground his hips into yours.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Namjoon began to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You felt his breath on the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.

As his mouth returned to your lips, you could taste the remnants of his hunger and desire. The tension between you seemed to melt away, as you felt your body respond to his every touch. The wetness between your legs grew with every moment that passed, as you pulled him closer to you.

"Namjoon," you breathed out, your voice a whisper that seemed to hang in the air between you. His hands embraced your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against your own. You felt his erection against your thigh, a powerful reminder of how much he wanted you right now.

You moaned softly, arching your back in response to the sensation, and Namjoon responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth to tangle with yours. His hands roamed over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer to him.

Slowly, he began to guide you towards your bedroom, stumbling through the hallway as you went, your legs feeling weak from the desire that was pooling in your lower half. You hit the bed with a soft thud, Namjoon quickly following you down. He hovered over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that you knew you could easily satisfy.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready, and you knew it.

He wasted no time in removing your top, exposing your pert breasts to his gaze. His eyes widened as he took you in, his breath catching in his throat.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whispered, his fingers brushing over your nipple, causing it to harden even more.

You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as Namjoon began to suck on your right nipple, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His left hand slowly trailed up your stomach, over your chest, and cupped your other breast, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his fingers. He kissed and nipped at the tender flesh, causing you to gasp.

You felt a sudden rush of heat spread throughout your body as he swirled his tongue around the tip, you've never felt anything like this before—his touch is electric, his kisses like tiny explosions on your skin.

You bit your lower lip, trying to contain the moans threatening to escape. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it only serves to fuel your desire.

"Namjoon," you breathe, voice hoarse, "Please."

He smirked against your skin, "Tell me what you want, baby."

“Wanna feel your mouth on me.”

He pulled away from your nipple, trailing kisses down your stomach while his fingers traced down your side, up your thigh, until he reached the waistband of your pants.

“Take them off, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a raspy plea.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached down and slid off your shorts, revealing your pussy to him. He groaned, clearly impressed as he took it all in.

“No underwear, huh? I guess you knew this would happen.”

You nodded, “Uh huh– oh, fuck!”

He leaned down and licked your outer lips, causing you to gasp and arch your back in pleasure. You moaned in delight as you felt Namjoon's warm, wet mouth close around your clit, his tongue dancing over your sensitive nub.

Your hips bucked up off the bed involuntarily, seeking more contact as he began to lap at you, sucking softly. The sensation is exquisite, the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive folds sending shivers down your spine.

You gasp as he deepens the pleasure tenfold, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you in place. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, your head thrown back with a soft whimper.

"Fuck," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper, "that feels so good."

You can feel his hot breath on your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continues to work your clit with his mouth.

You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly as his tongue flicks over and around your clit, driving you wild. Each time he licks you, you shudder, your body tensing in anticipation of the next stroke. You close your eyes, unable to contain your ecstasy, the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You're lost in the sensation, ignoring everything but how amazing his mouth feels on you. The bed squeaks softly as you rock your hips, meeting each of his movements with your own.

His scent surrounds you, musky and arousing, igniting a fire inside you that burns hotter with every passing moment. His hands squeeze your thighs harder, teases you with his tongue, relentless in his ministrations.

You can feel the heat building inside of you, climaxing ever closer. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you near the edge, throat working to swallow back the moans that threaten to escape, but Namjoon stops you.

"I want to hear you, Y/N."

His words unleash a torrent of emotion in you, and you let out a loud moan as you begin to lose control. Your hands grip his hair, pulling him tighter against your sex as your hips buck wildly.

"I can't hold on," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable.

Namjoon smiles against you, and his fingers begin to move in time with his tongue, probing at your entrance, and you cry out, hips rocking off the bed.

You're close, so close, and you want release more than anything.

With a sudden surge of motion, he adds another finger, pushing it deep inside of you, stretching your walls. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he begins to thrust his hand, filling you up.

Your breath catches in your throat, you arch your back, fingers digging into his shoulders.

The combination of his fingers and tongue on your sensitive flesh is too much to bear, sending you spiraling over the edge. "Namjoon," you whispers, voice thick with desire, "I'm coming--"

Your body tenses, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. A moan rips from your throat as you come hard, hips jerking off the bed.

Your walls grip at his fingers, and your nails dig into his shoulders. You quiver and shake, your whole body shuddering from the force of your release.

"You taste so fucking good, Y/N."

When you finally calm down, you feel the warm stickiness between your legs, the taste of him on your tongue.

Your eyes flutter open to see him smiling at you, his face flushed with pleasure. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you flinch from oversensitivity.

You slowly lift yourself up after coming down from your high, meeting Namjoon's eyes, clouded with desire and want.

You lean forward, reaching for his obvious erection, palming him through his pants.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groans, his voice ragged.

"Take them off," you murmur seductively, your voice dripping with lust. Your eyes never leave his as he unzips the fly of his jeans, slowly pulling them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection. It's hard and thick, and you can't help but stare at it, your heart pounding in your chest in anticipation.

Your hands shake slightly as you reach out, wrapping your fingers around the base of his shaft, feeling how hot and hard he is. You stroke him slowly, watching his reactions, the way his eyes flutter shut and his lips part slightly. You can see the desire in his eyes, and you know that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You lean in close, brushing your lips against the head of his cock, teasing him with the promise of what's to come. He lets out a low groan as you trail soft kisses down his length

His shaft, before finally taking him deep into your mouth. You suck on him gently, using your tongue to tease and play with his sensitive head. Namjoon groans, his hands threading through your hair as you pleasure him, your lips slowly moving up and down his shaft.

His hips buck, trying to thrust into your mouth, and you let him, gagging slightly but continuing to take him deeper and deeper until his entire length is inside of you. You moan around him, enjoying the taste and feel of him, the warmth and the power you have over him.

"H-holy shit, Y/N. Fuck that feels so--fuck."

You pull back, sucking hard on the head one last time before releasing him. You look up at Namjoon, who is looking down at you with an expression of pure desire.

His hands find their way into your hair, tangling in the silken locks as he struggles to maintain control. He moans your name, encouraging you to continue, his eyes closing tightly as he loses himself in the sensation. The sound of slurping and smacking fill the air as you bob your head up and down, your mouth working him almost mechanically.

He can feel the bed dipping slightly with every thrust of your head, your bodies moving in sync. The scent of arousal fills the room, and Namjoon knows he's close to the edge. He begins to pant, his breath coming faster as he nears his climax.

Sighing he grabs your hair tighter, pulling you off his dick and forcing you to look up at him, "Enough, I don't want to come before I'm inside of you."

Namjoon lets go of your makeshift ponytail, and reluctantly, you pull away, sitting on your haunches before him, waiting to see what he does next.

He roughly tugs his jeans the rest of the way down his legs, and you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, silently pleading with him to remove it so that he can be bare in front of you.

He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His rippling muscles and toned abs are revealed, sending a shiver down your spine.

Namjoon's sculpted body was, in his words, "a testament to the hours of dedication he committed to both his physical and mental well-being." His broad shoulders tapered downward into a lean, chiseled torso that showcased his defined pectoral muscles. The light caught the edges of his rippling abs, seemingly amplifying their strength. His arms, strong and toned, were equally impressive - a result of countless hours spent lifting weights and perfecting his form.

You stare at him in awe and reach out, wanting to feel his body against yours. You pull him down onto the bed, your hands exploring every inch of him as you kiss him passionately. His hands run through your hair, gently pulling it back as he takes your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

His body presses against you, your breasts flattening against his chest as he deepens the kiss. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsating, pushing against your thigh.

Your hands explore his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He lifts himself up, breaking the kiss, and you feel his weight shift as he positions himself between your legs.

He stares at you for a moment with questioning eyes, "Ready?"

You nod eagerly, breath hitched in anticipation. Namjoon slowly pushes himself inside you, your walls tightening around him as he fills you completely. You gasp, arching your back as your body adjusts to his girth.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

He begins to move, thrusting slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he finds your rhythm. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

"Shit, Namjoon!" You cry out, your voice a mix of pleasure and pain as he hits just the right spot. His movements become more urgent, and you can feel his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust.

"F-fuck Y/N. You’re so tight babe." He growls, his hips pounding into you.

You whimper, your body trembling from the sensation of his dick filling you up and stretching you out.

You're so close, so close to coming undo--

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls out of you, and you whine at the empty feeling, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Namjoon, what are you--"

"Turn around," He interrupts, grabbing your hips, "ass up."

You blush at his words, but your arousal only deepens as he helps you turn around, and he positions himself behind you.

He rubs the head of his dick against your entrance, teasing you and making you crave him even more. You moan softly, reaching down to guide him inside you.

With a swift, powerful thrust, Namjoon slams into you, filling you completely as the bed creaks beneath the two of you. You cry out, your hands flying to your mouth to stifle the sound, but your voice gives out and you let out a yelp.

Your heart races as Namjoon's hips slam into you, feeling the thick length of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust.

You moan loudly, a hand clutching onto the sheets underneath you and the other running through your hair.

The headboard hits the wall with a loud thud as Namjoon forces himself deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body trembles under the onslaught of sensations - the feeling of being here, the pleasure spreading through you, the sound of your skin slapping together.

"Damn, you have such a nice ass," Namjoon pants, his breaths coming in short gasps as he smacks the supple skin before running his hand back over the spot he marked to soothe it.

You whimper in response, it only serves to intensify the experience for you, the sting combining with the delight of being taken so roughly.

You thrust your hips back towards Namjoon, meeting his movements with equal force, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor.

"And these tits," He growls, leaning forward to cup your left breast, rolling the nipple through his fingers, causing you to moan loudly without restraint, body trembling with anticipation.

Namjoon growls low in his throat, his free hand finding its way to your puffy clit, rubbing it gently as he thrusts into you.

"Oh god, Namjoon!" It's almost too much for you to handle - the dual sensations are driving you wild.

You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you don't want it to end yet, not when Namjoon is treating you like this.

With a groan, Namjoon pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in with more force than before. Your fingers dig into the mattress beneath you, breath hitching as your walls tighten around him, "Fuck, Namjoon, I'm so close!"

"Yeah? You gonna come again, baby?"

"Yes, Namjoon, please!"

Namjoon smiles wickedly, increasing his pace as he feels your desire growing. He grabs the back of your hips, pulling you harder against him as he thrusts deeper inside you. His thrusts are rough and unrelenting, his hips pounding into you with each powerful impact.

You can feel the dampness between your legs, the juice from your arousal seeping down your thighs and onto the bed. The sound of your breaths and his grunts fill the room as the tension builds. Your nails dig into the mattress, leaving small indentations as you cling to the fabric for dear life.

His hands roam over your body, caressing your skin and heightening your sensitivity. He tweaks your nipples, causing you to cry out with pleasure and pain. His fingers explore your inner thighs, trailing along your sensitive skin, making you tremble with desire.

"Oh, shit," Namjoon groans, his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels his own orgasm beginning to build.

With a final burst of energy, you push back against him, meeting his every thrust as he pounds into you, his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each strong movement.

"Fuck, Namjoon!" You cry out, your body trembling uncontrollably as you feel your climax beginning to take hold.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm so close," Namjoon growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he fights to hold back his orgasm.

Your walls tighten around him once more, pulling him deeper inside you as you scream out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you feel the waves of your release crash over you. Your walls tighten and release around Namjoon's pulsating cock, causing him to groan in pleasure.

His own release is becoming too much to hold back, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he lets out a loud groan. Your name on his lips as he cries out in pleasure, "Holy shit, Y/N!"

His hips stutter, body trembling as his orgasm overtakes him. You can feel his warm, fluid spilling inside of you, filling you completely. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before - it's intense, it's overwhelming, and you love every second of it.

He holds you tightly against him, his breath hot against the back of your neck, as he slowly starts to regain his composure. His heart is pounding against your back erratically.

You slowly open your eyes and look back at him, a content smile gracing your lips. "That was incredible, Namjoon," you breathe, your voice soft and sultry.

He kisses your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he moves down your shoulder. "I think I agree," he murmurs, his voice already starting to calm down.

You both lay panting, your bodies entwined, the sweat glistening on your skin, the scent of passion filling the room. He pulls out of you, his cock wet and sticky from your connection. He pulls his hips away from you and collapses next to you on the bed, both of you trying to regain your breath.

The seconds pass into minutes, and you both lay there in content silence, your bodies entwined, the remnants of your encounter still lingering between you.

Namjoon's fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, his touch gentle and soothing. He leans in close to your ear, whispering, "Let me clean you up."

"Mmm, okay," you reply, your voice still thick with lust.

He gets off the bed and grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, bringing it back to you.

Slowly, he turns you over, and you lay on your back, your legs spread wide, his body hovering above you. He takes the cloth and smiles, gently dabbing at your sensitive folds, cleaning away the remnants of your sexual encounter.

You moan softly, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasms. His touch is soothing, yet it sends shivers of desire through you. He continues to clean you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds as he does so.

Once he's finished, he places the cloth on the nightstand and lies down beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

His fingers trace the curve of your hip, massaging gently as you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow of what the two of you have just done.

The room is filled with the sound of your heartbeats, in sync and pounding in rhythm with each other. You feel safe and secure in Namjoon's arms, and you turn to face him, a gentle look etched into your features, "So, what did you think...?"

He softly strokes your hair, "About what?"

"Well...am I a bad lay...?" You mumble the last part and he smiles, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"No, absolutely not. You were...perfect. He was probably just upset that you rejected him and that's how he reacted."

You snuggle closer, feeling his heartbeat syncing with yours,"I'm glad you're here with me," you whisper.

Namjoon nods, "Me too."

You smile, feeling his warmth enveloping you.

The tentative silence is broken by Namjoon's voice as he speaks, "Do you want me to stay the night?"

You think for a moment, "Yes, please."

"I'll be right back," he says as he gets off the bed, returning a moment later with a clean sheet and blanket. He carefully covers the two of you with the cozy layers, your bodies pressed closely together.

"Sleep well, Y/N." He whispers.

"Sleep well."

As the night progresses, you both drift off to sleep, the dim light from the moonlight streaming through the window casting soft shadows on the wall. The scent of sex lingers in the air, a heady reminder of the passion that had just passed between the two of you. You are lulled into a peaceful slumber, your hearts beating in harmony with each other's rhythm.

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

Note

First off, I always love reading your work. Makes me smile when I’m going through it 🫶🏻

Could you do rhys x reader or maybe a batboys head canon for how they’d take care of you while life seems to be out to get you? Like every time you think your problems are solved, something blows up in your face? Maybe like something breaks in your flat, and then something crazy happens at work, and then like you get sick or something and reader is just super down and rhys/batboys are trying to bring her back up? Taking care of her and stuff?

Sorry if this is too confusing or similar to anything you’ve had before, my brain is a little short-circuited tonight lol and I’ve been kinda going through it so I can’t think straight

Dry Your Tears

Bat boys x reader

A/n: I dream of the three of them taking care of me. Also I’m sorry babe, I’m also going through it so we’re together on this

Warnings: Tamlin being mean to reader, anxiety, and fluff

Your luck for charming High Lords and their advisors has finally run out

You were on a roll on your little tour of Day, Winter, and Summer

But coming home from other courts empty handed sucked

Especially when it was the spring court

With Tamlin finally back in power with a group of advisors and his court put together he’s been full of himself acting all high and mighty

Yesterday was your first time there since the court was put together

Of course it was all males who didn’t respect you one bit and Tamlin was no help either

The spring high lord was very condescending and it brought out your insecurities about your place in the court

Tamlin also targeted your relationship with the boys, pointing out other flaws there

You slept in your own bed once you arrived at the town house since you left Spring so late

As you fell into a fitful sleep you dreaded the paper work you had to do in the morning

The next morning you found a note on the kitchen table from Rhys that read, Sorry we missed you darling. Emergency in Windhaven. We’ll be back tomorrow morning. We love you very much

You frown at the note but smile at the little heart drawn at the end

After breakfast you set out to do paperwork with infrequent visits from Amren about updates on court matters

Getting to the Spring Court report drained you

Just thinking about it makes your skin itch

You get up deciding to take a walk to clear your head

The walk didn’t help. It simply made things worse

There was too much around the town house that didn’t feel right to you. Like you needed to reorganize

But now you wanted new furniture and things bc the throw pillows didn’t look right and the couch looked too old

To distract from that you went into the kitchen to find a snack only to realize none of the boys went grocery shopping (who are you kidding it’s Nuala and Cerridwen that do it)

You slammed the cabinet shut

With the slam of the cabinet a cough crept up your throat

It was dry and you felt like you couldn’t breathe

You shouldn’t have traveled to Winter then Spring

Ignoring what the cough meant you remembered your report for Rhys and stomped back to your office

The report took way longer than you would’ve liked

Thinking about Tamlin and his comments about your relationship made you blood boil

As your anger washed away it turned into anxiety and sadness and doubt

Are you capable of this job if these males get to you so easily? Is your relationship and mating bond with the boys going to last?

You needed to shake this off. You closed your side of the bond as to not worry your mates. They don’t need to worry about you right now

You kept stewing in your anxiety and anger for the rest of the day

Amren left at 5 so you had dinner alone with what was left in the house. You’d go shopping tomorrow when your head was clear and you weren’t pissed at the fact that the boys forgot

Sleep evaded you that night as you wished your boys were here to hold you and whisper sweet nothings to you

Your cough kept you up all night as well

By the time the sun was up you were curled against against the headboard. Your eyes watering from that dry cough you’ve developed. You didn’t feel like moving, you were too tired. Too tired to even greet your mates at the door

Cassian’s heavy, booted footsteps come up the stairs first

Tears pricked your eyes from exhaustion and anxiety

Azriel silently pushed your bedroom door open, making his way over to your bed. “Hey princess, whats wrong?” You sniffle and start to cry harder into his chest

Without hesitating Az picked you up, rushing you to your shared bedroom. Rhys and Cass stop unpacking and move to comfort you

“My darling, why are you so upset?” You look up at the three of them with the saddest look on your face. Cassian wipes your tears with his thumbs giving you an equally sad look

You look back at Rhys tapping your temple for him to look at your memories. Rhys nods and you close your eyes

He shares your memories of the Spring meeting and your day yesterday. When it was over you opened your eyes to see Az and Cass fuming. Rhys was giving you a sympathetic look. “Darling, no. You do not listen to a word they say. You do not believe them. Everything they said was a lie, alright.” Rhys said firmly, cupping your face in his large hands

“You are our world, sweetheart. Don’t think for a second that you aren’t important.” Cassian stressed, kissing your forehead

The next few days are spent taking care of you and cheering you up

You read together, go out for meals, shopping for clothes books and anything else your heart desired or whatever the boys felt like spoiling you with. The boys even did the grocery shopping

They take turns holding you on their laps, keeping you tucked into their chest as they tell you stories from camp or when they first fell in love with you and other relationship stories

You have to admit, it was hilarious to imagine the people of Velaris staring as their High Lord, the General, and Spymaster food shop

Laughing about it did make you feel better

They spent the next few nights worshiping your body. Paying attention to every part of you that gets a reaction. Working you up to the most earth shattering orgasms you’ve ever had

By the end of the week you had put Tamlin and his court out of your mind, feeling overjoyed at the amount of love your mates show you

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cutielando · 8 months

Text

why don’t we go there? | m.s.

synopsis: in which you help him believe in himself again

my masterlist

The clock in front of your eyes moved incredibly slow. As you inched closer and closer to the paddock, your heart began beating out of its chest.

Some time ago, coming to the paddock to watch the race was a dream come true. You enjoyed every moment of it, feeling like you were a dream and you never wanted to wake up.

But now, that dream turned into a nightmare.

You knew the risks you were taking when you began your relationship with Mick, seeing the other partners and what they had to go through just for being with a driver.

Ever since you announced your relationship to the public, the problems started creeping in.

Fights between the two of you, his fans dragging you through the mud, the media outlets tearing your relationship to shreds from the outside.

You felt like a stranger into your own relationship, like an outsides looking in as everything was going to shit right under their eyes.

It tore you apart. Every Grand Prix you attended represented another nail in the coffin of your relationship with Mick.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, hearing Mick’s voice calling out to you.

Looking out the window, you noticed that you were already in the paddock parking lot, Mick having already turned the car engine off.

“Sorry, I was just thinking” you forced a smile out of you, trying to mask how much you dreaded going into the paddock.

Mick eyed you suspiciously, but nodded nonetheless.

You thanked God that he couldn’t read through tour facade, not wanting to risk having another fight with him in such a public place.

After you got out of the car, Mick reached out and took your hand in his, trying to give you a sense of comfort. But even he knew that it was in vain.

“Why are you so tense?” he asked, scanning your passes and smiling at some photographers.

You smiled with him, not as naturally as you would’ve maybe liked.

“I’m not, I’m just a little tired. Didn’t sleep that well last night” you said, hoping he would buy it.

Of course, he wouldn’t even know how you slept last night. He came back to your hotel room late, opting to crash on the couch instead of your shared bed.

He nodded, not giving you a second thought as you approached the Mercedes garage.

Just like he always did.

“I’m gonna go talk to my engineer before practice. Find a place to sit and do your thing” he said, giving you a chaste kiss on your forehead before disappearing.

You sighed, looking around at the place your boyfriend had been calling home for years now. And yet, despite the many times that you had been inside that very garage, you felt more as an outsider than ever before.

Between the neglect you were suffering from Mick, the hate you were receiving from his fans, the way the media was painting you as a bad influence on Mick, you didn't feel you belonged anywhere in his world.

"Y/N?" you were shaken out of your thoughts once again, meeting George's worried eyes scanning you.

"Oh, hi George. Sorry, I'll be out of your way" you grabbed your purse tighter and went to leave and go to the hospitality, but he grabbed your arm to stop you from walking away.

"Are you okay? You were spaced out for a good while there" his expression was worried, which was exactly what you had wanted to avoid.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired. I'm gonna go hang out in hospitality, wish you guys luck with your practice" you nodded and left before George could say another word.

♡♡♡♡♡

Being alone in your hotel room while your boyfriend was out somewhere with his team allowed you time to contemplate.

You loved Mick, and you loved being with him. But lately, it seemed like you were the only one present in the relationship. He would barely touch you, look at you or speak to you when you would be alone together.

You had never thought that going public would cause your relationship to completely collapse. It broke your heart, and you didn't know what to do to fix it. If there was even anything left to fix.

The door opening grabbed your attention. "Y/N?" Mick called out, his footsteps growing louder as he came closer and closer to the bedroom.

You quickly tried to wipe your tears, hoping he wouldn't be able to tell you had been crying. But you weren't fast enough.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, his voice not sounding bothered at all.

"Nothing"

"I know something's wrong. Tell me what's going on with you"

Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was his choice of words, or maybe simply the fact that you were so tired of holding everything in that prompted you to completely break down and let everything out.

"We're not doing okay, Mick. Ever since we went to the paddock together for the first time, nothing has been the same. We barely talk to each other, you barely touch me or look at me unless you have to, your fans and the media are tearing me to shreds, calling me a gold digger and saying I'm only with you for your money and your fame and you couldn't care less. I barely see you anymore, it seems like you're doing everything to make sure you're not around me. You're staying out late, I don't know where you are half of the time and you can't wait to ditch me whenever we go somewhere together. I'm tired of fighting for a relationship that I'm not sure is worth fighting for" and with that you started sobbing, curling up on the bed and hiding your face in your hands.

Mick was shocked beyond words.

He knew he had been in the wrong. He realized he had been doing exactly what you had said. He'd been neglecting you, and the worst part was the fact that he didn't have an answer as to why. He saw the hate that you had been getting, and he didn't think it was worth it to say something in your defense. Why? He didn't know.

But as he heard your sobs fill the room and saw your body shaking with the intensity of your crying, he realized how much of an asshole he had been towards you.

"Shhh" he enveloped you in his arms, hugging you tightly and squeezing you close.

This was the first time he had touched you in weeks, you had even forgotten what his embrace felt like. In your vulnerable state, you forgot about the last few weeks, the hate and everything, completely melting in the arms of your boyfriend.

"It's okay, I'm here, let it all out" he kept whispering in your ear, kissing the top of your head and petting your hair.

As you slowly started to calm down, you didn't make a move to pull away from him, having missed his touch too much.

"Can we talk now?" his voice was soft, in contrast with the icy tone he had had when he had come back to the room.

You nodded, clearing your throat and slowly pulling away from him.

"I know I've been a shitty boyfriend lately, and there's no excuse for how I've been acting. I've been under a lot of stress from the team and I've been taking it out on you, which you didn't deserve. I'm sorry for how I've been treating you, I'm sorry for not standing up for you to my fans and the internet and I'm sorry I haven't been around. I love you, and I promise that I'm gonna do better, I'm gonna be a better boyfriend and I'm never going to make you feel like this ever again" he was holding your face in his hands, his eyes tearing up.

You knew you shouldn't cave in so easily, make him work for it more than this. But you loved him, and you could never resist him.

"I love you too" you whispered, caressing his cheek and connecting your lips, sighing at the feeling you had been missing.

Despite your rough patch, you both knew you were going to be alright, as long as you had each other.

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winterchimez · 22 days

Text

Teach Me How To Love (pt.2) | Kim Sunwoo

SUMMARY: right after you had elicited help from your best friend, who also turns out to the the fuckboy on campus, suddenly you weren't too sure if all the efforts you had put in to please the heartthrob were actually worth it anymore. that was when you realised there was much more to Sunwoo than you thought he was.

PAIRING: fuckboy!Sunwoo x g.n!reader (feat. crush!Hyunjae)

GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive, slight horror

WARNINGS: nc-17, kissing, making out, implied sex (no smut though yall dw), reader wears a dress, petnames (sweetheart, princess, honey), Hyunjae isn't what reader thought he was oops (slightly possessive), reader is in denial of their own feelings, crying, cursing, flustered Sunwoo (and he's the gem of comedy in the fic), Sunwoo is the biggest flirt ever 😃

WORD COUNT: 4,438

A/N: happiest birthday to my one and only soulmate @from-izzy 🤞 thank you for literally being through all the chaos and madness in my daily life, from being on call with one another for an average of 6-7 hours each time we do it, from validating my thoughts 99% of the time (bcs sometimes you don't), and literally being the missing piece to my other half. fate brought us tgt and you'll forever be stuck with me for life so be prepared for that 😚💜 and big shoutout to @mosviqu @sanaxo-o for beta reading this fic for me!! (also hi... @kimsohn)

this is pt2 to the original fic here so please do read it first as this will contain major spoilers!! (yes the long awaited sequel is finally here im sorry for making yall wait for more than a year 🧍‍♀️)

Sunwoo’s POV

It was already noon, and the sun began shining directly onto the male’s face, causing him to get all frustrated as he sat up from his bed.

Sunwoo was still in denial about what happened last night. You came over to elicit his help on how to flirt and make out and basically asked for advice on how to please your date for today—the campus heartthrob Lee Hyunjae.

He knew from the back of his mind that it was definitely a bad idea from the start. He shouldn’t have agreed to do exactly what you both did last night—the way both of your bodies felt so warm and close to one another, the way your hands wrapped around him as he carried you to his bed, and the way your lips felt against his.

He couldn’t stop thinking about them—like a broken record player replaying the entire scenario. After he had convinced you that you were good enough to please Hyunjae and left, he slumped onto the couch, refusing to believe what he had just done.

All this time, he knew that you both were just friends—childhood best friends, to be exact. Neither of you had shown much more affection beyond that, and it was all cool between you two.

That was until last night.

His heartbeat was going 80 miles per hour, and he was literally going insane. To get back to his senses, he decided to call one of the girls he often slept with and invited her over so that he could forget about what had just happened and take things off his mind for a while.

He was confident that all would be fine—he just returned to his usual routine of making out with different girls, and there’s that. Whatever happened between you two was just a dream, an awkward moment between you two, and it would not affect the relationship you both have built over the years.

It turns out he was wrong, and during the entire night of making out with the girl, the only image that popped up in his mind was you. He imagined as if he was kissing you again, making you feel good as he explored your body, touching you in areas that made you feel so good—earning a series of soft moans coming out from your mouth.

But he knew it was all just a hallucination, as he now turned to his side to find the girl he invited over last night sleeping very soundly as she lay towards her side, facing away from him.

Sunwoo moved his head backwards so that it slightly bumped against the headboard of his bed. He lifted his phone to check the time and see if he had gotten any notifications for the day.

More specifically, if there were any notifications from you, that is.

When he saw that there was none, and it was already going to be 12:30 in the afternoon, he quickly went through his list of contacts and dialled someone familiar with your schedules for the day as he ran his fingers through his hair frustratingly.

“Yuna, give me the details of Y/N’s schedule for the day from A to Z.” He commanded.

Y/N’s POV

You were already drinking your third bottle of water as you waited for your date to arrive.

To be fair, you agreed to meet at the square at 12:30 p.m., but your anxiety caused you to arrive 30 minutes earlier than planned.

You elicited help from Yuna to dress you up and make you all pretty for today's date. You decided to put on the yellow flare dress that your cousin got you for the summer holidays while Yuna helped curl your hair and do your makeup for you. It has been a while since you put on a dress for yourself, but you thought it was legitimately the best outfit you own that could keep up with the campus heartthrob himself.

You had a hard time falling asleep the night before. You kept thinking about how you would please Hyunjae—wear clothes that he would like, keep up with his favourite films and food, and, of course, how you would kiss him if that ever happened.

Wait. Kiss?

Right. You elicited your best friend’s help the night before at his apartment.

You weren’t too sure what had gotten in your mind last night, but you thought that having a so-called 101 lessons on how to please a guy by passionately making out with Sunwoo would do the trick.

Your cheeks instantly heat up at the thought of it—you loved the way he touched you and how he was actually so gentle with it, contrary to his fuckboy behaviour that you have known from the surface.

His words were as sweet as nectar—luring you in as if he knew exactly what to say to please you. It took you a little while to adjust to that since you mostly just bicker with the male. However, you weren’t too upset with that sudden change of attitude, and you liked this side of him.

But that wasn’t the part that intrigued you the most—it was that kiss. His goddamn plump lips just seemingly knew how to move in sync with yours, savouring all of the flavoured lip balm that you had just applied earlier that day since you struggled with dry, cracked lips.

All of a sudden, you realised that you didn’t need it anymore, for your lips were moist by the time you got home—you didn’t even need to apply another layer before going to sleep.

You were brought back to reality when your phone started going off at your nightstand, and you picked it up to read the caller’s ID out loud.

That’s when you panicked and quickly shook your head. Your date has arrived, and he was waiting in the lobby to pick you up.

That’s right. I’m going on a date with Hyunjae. Sunwoo has nothing to do with this.

As you quickly scrambled through your belongings to check if you had gotten everything, you dashed out of the door and slammed it shut before running down to meet your date, who was already looking as flawless as ever as he sat on the couch in the lobby.

The moment both of your eyes met, you could’ve sworn that you were about to combust internally as he put on the sweetest smile that could instantly make up someone’s day.

“Morning, princess. You look absolutely stunning,” he commented as he scanned you up and down, admiring the look you had given him for the day. “I can’t believe that this is all for me.”

God, the rumours that his words could potentially send you off to space within seconds were true. “N-No! I just did the bare minimum…I was worried you weren’t going to like it…” you mumbled.

He chuckled as he leaned forward to tuck some of your hair behind your ears. “Are you crazy? You’re the most beautiful ethereal sweetheart I’ve ever set my eyes upon.”

Oh my god. Stop this Hyunjae, stop it right now.

Clearing your throat, desperately wanting to move on from this conversation, you pointed towards the exit and gestured that it was time for you both to move on with your date.

“L-Let’s go! The food bazaar isn’t going to wait for us forever!”

“You’re right,” he smiled before taking your hands and intertwining his fingers with yours. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“Oh my god! You’re a godsend when it comes to food!” You mumbled as you chewed on your favourite strawberry tanghulu in one hand and switched your taste buds to take a bite of the cheesiest corndog Hyunjae had bought for you from the bazaar.

“I’m not called the food guru for no reason, honey. I know my food very well,” he winks as he takes in a bite of this humungous Taiwanese-styled fried chicken that he just got off fresh from one of the stalls nearby.

Hyunjae couldn’t help admiring how you looked as he kept glancing towards your direction—your glistening pink cheeks partly from the blush but also how happy you were from this little date.

If he had to be honest, he himself was nervous trying to send that text of asking you out the day before. Sure, he was aware of how you had had your eyes on him for a while, but so did the rest of the class.

However, he knew that there was something different about you, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was—but he knew that he just had to ask you out, and it didn’t matter if it would turn out to be great or a disaster.

Something about you has caught his eye since you first walked into class. You were different from the other girls who seemed to like him because of his good looks. You had always stood firm, telling everyone how you knew that Hyunjae was the sweetest human being you have ever laid your eyes upon—both from the outside and on the inside.

He appreciated and loved walking through the corridors on campus where he would find you talking to your friends about him—it was the smile you had on your face whenever he was mentioned.

So he did his fair share of research on you, too (not with malicious intent but to get to know you better), and found out that you had a really close childhood friend, Kim Sunwoo.

Sure enough, he would often see you hanging out with him loads back in junior year—you both were pretty much inseparable at all times, sticking close to one another throughout the entire day.

But the entire campus knew how he eventually ventured out to become the fuckboy on campus, and he would often hang out with different girls and sleep with them, causing you to spend less time with him.

If Hyunjae had to be completely honest, he wasn’t too happy about that. But who was he to judge about your relationships with one another?

That is only he knew what happened between you two the night before in Sunwoo’s apartment.

The thought of Sunwoo potentially hurting you in one way or another has been bugging him for an entire year now, and he just needed to know the answers. So he tried his best to come up with different topics to talk to you about—from the pets you both owned to your favourite TV shows until he felt it was safe and comfortable to talk about your childhood friend.

“Say, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, and I don’t mean to pry…but what is your relationship with Kim Sunwoo?”

You were taken aback by the sudden question about Sunwoo, and your already pink cheeks from the makeup and heat were getting much brighter and more apparent, causing you to clear your throat quickly before answering your date.

“H-He’s just a childhood friend; we go all the way back. Why do you ask?”

“I can’t help but think he is somewhat hurting you somehow. I really hope he isn’t, though,” his voice deepened, making it evident that he wasn’t joking around.

“Sunwoo? Hurting me? What makes you say that?” You asked while bitting off the last strawberry from the kebab stick you held.

“Y/N, how do I put this…” he was now fidgeting his fingers on his free hand while looking at the ground. “I don’t know. You both don’t seem as close as you were back then. If I were in your shoes, I would be devastated in this situation.”

That immediately stopped you in your tracks. You just stared at your date briefly, your feet glued to the ground.

You remembered what the girls talked about the campus heartthrob himself: he reads people like an open book.

Nothing could’ve explained the sweat dripping from your head; your fingers clutching the kebab sticks for dear life as if you were being interrogated for doing something wrong.

Why did you feel that way? You couldn’t even answer that yourself.

“H-He’s- I mean- We’re fine! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You laughed, trying your best to hide the stammer and fear in your voice, but you knew that your date wasn’t buying it in one serious bit.

Knowing that the situation wasn’t getting any better, Hyunjae decided to take you away from the crowd by gripping your hand, and eventually, you both ended up on a bench at a nearby park, just sitting down to talk about everything.

“Y/N. I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me,” he bluntly replied.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Sunwoo.”

Frankly, you have no idea why on earth Hyunjae was obsessed about knowing what exactly happened between you two. You were currently on a date with the campus heartthrob, and Sunwoo is just a childhood friend, so you both somehow drifted apart for some time. You didn’t see what the connection here was all about.

“Hyunjae…we’re just friends. That’s all.”

“Y/N.” His grip on your hands tightened. “As much as I want to be happy that I’m out with you on a date right now, I can’t seem to help but notice how you aren’t exactly here with me, if that makes sense. Something is bothering you, and I am upset to know that.”

“W-Well- Why are you upset, Hyunjae?”

“Because you’re hiding something from me.”

At this point, you were starting to feel a little creeped out and uncomfortable, and you had no idea why he was growing much more possessive each minute. You noticed how he was trying to get you to talk about your childhood friend, but you didn’t want to at this point.

Especially with what happened between you two last night.

With all the pressure and tension in the air, you couldn’t help but hold back the tears in your eyes as they poured down your cheeks. You couldn’t care less if you looked like an absolute mess in front of your date right now, and you knew that you could no longer ignore the excruciating pain you have been holding back since last night.

“I-I don’t know, Hyunjae. I don’t know what to feel,” you sobbed, lowering your head down to the point that your tears were now dripping onto your dress.

Hyunjae was slightly taken aback by the scene that unfolded in front of him, and he quickly pulled you in for an embrace, rubbing your back to help soothe you as best as he could before you started speaking up again.

“I’m so confused with everything…I made many preparations for you because I genuinely like you so much, Hyunjae…I have had the biggest crush on you for the longest time…but everything that happened last night…I can’t be so sure anymore…” you sobbed.

“What happened last night, Y/N? Talk to me about it,” Hyunjae reassured you with his calming voice, not knowing if it would make the situation better or worse, but he had to know.

Even if the truth would eventually crush him.

“I-I elicited help from Sunwoo…because I wanted to please you so bad as your date…but everything that unfolded last night…I-I don’t know where I stand now…”

That was enough for Hyunjae to combine the dots to paint the whole picture in his head. He knew that from the start, as he saw both of you together, there was something about your relationship that felt so different from any other pairings seen on campus.

He never once believed in fate, nor about the red thread that connects one person to another to form the seemingly perfect relationship ever. But he knew deep down within his gut that you had a thing for Sunwoo, even if you hadn’t noticed it.

It was enough to prove that even he couldn’t win over Sunwoo from you, and that little crush he had with you was slowly dying down—his heart slowly tearing apart. However, he was too nice to take you away from the one to which your heart truly belonged.

As your cries grew heavier and louder, Hyunjae could only do his best to hug you tighter, wishing he could savour this moment for as long as possible before he eventually had to let go.

He knew he would miss hearing you talking about him whenever he came close on campus, and he surely would miss admiring you from afar whenever you weren’t paying attention to him.

Knowing that you wouldn’t hear him as you were caught up in your emotions, he slowly took out your phone to send a text to a number before he turned it off and placed it back into your bag before he mumbled a few words to himself.

“Thank you for making me happy over the past year, Y/N. You truly are one of a kind.”

You had no idea how long you had been out as you slowly opened your eyes and adjusted your vision. The sun had set, and the skies were slowly turning pitch black, indicating that the day had passed by quickly.

Immediately, you felt that you were lying on something soft underneath your head, and you slowly lifted your head before you eventually sat up straight and backed away slightly from the man himself.

“You look like you have seen a ghost, Y/N.”

He couldn’t be. Why was he here? How did he know your location?

It can’t be true, and you won’t believe your eyes. So, you slowly leaned forward to pinch his cheeks, earning a yelp to show that it was a reality, not a dream.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for!” He screamed as he covered his cheek with the arm that he was spread on the back of the bench.

“W-Why are you here, Sunwoo?” You questioned, clearly still confused with the whole situation that you were in.

“What do you mean why? You texted me to come pick you up,” he answered.

Huh? You texted him? That can’t be true.

Immediately, you took your phone from your bag to click into your messages with him. Sure enough, you had sent a text to the male himself, and it was the way he had only seen the message, and it was enough to make his way towards you quickly.

Before you could even ask where exactly he knew where to find you, you clearly remembered how you both had shared your locations, and you instantly covered your face with both hands before you slumped forward.

“Oh my god…” you heaved.

There was this short silence between you two before Sunwoo eventually cleared his throat to tell you he was still here with you in case you had completely forgotten about his existence.

“That dress looks nice on you, I’ll admit that.”

“W-Well! It’s not for you, so don’t be so full of yourself- Wait, where’s Hyunjae?” You asked as you finally remembered why you had been sleeping on a bench.

As you stood up to turn your head around to scan the area, Sunwoo couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh before gripping one of your hands, causing you to turn back towards your friend.

“Listen. We need to talk.”

Oh, hell no. This is the conversation that you have been trying your best to avoid for the past 24 hours.

“W-What is there to talk about?”

“Everything.” He gently pulled your hand down so that you were sitting right beside him on the bench again, his grip tightening around you as if he didn’t want to let you go anytime soon.

“Look, I- God, this is much harder than I imagined in my head,” Sunwoo groaned as he ran his free hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly to show his frustration. “After what happened last night…that isn’t something that friends would do, and I think you know that yourself.”

Please stop talking about last night. “O-Okay…and where are we going with this?” You asked.

“Y/N. Normal friends don’t kiss and make out the way we did last night, you know that, don’t you?”

Please, just stop. “O-Okay…and?”

“So…where do we stand now? Y/N?”

God. “I- Umm- Well- What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know…literally just anything. I need to know, Y/N. I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep for the entire night because of that.”

You really wished that you could answer that question right here and then, but you weren’t too sure about your feelings. In the beginning, you were certain that Sunwoo wasn’t interested in having an actual relationship since he was out there making out with different girls weekly or even once every couple of days.

That was enough to show that he just wanted to have some fun and be as single as he could—not committed to an actual relationship—so that he could explore his needs.

Isn’t it?

“But you- umm- you’re out here sleeping with other girls-”

“I don’t just sleep around with people, Y/N. It’s because I want to learn how to please you.”

Wait, what?

You weren’t too sure if you had heard those words correctly, and you kept blinking your eyes at the male himself, making him shut his eyes as he leaned back onto the bench.

“Fuck, this is so frustrating, uh-” Sunwoo placed one of his hands to cover his eyes for a little while to regain his composure. “Y/N, wasn’t it obvious enough that the reason I have been avoiding you is because I started liking you? More than just friends at one point, I wasn’t sure if you were cool with it, and I definitely didn’t want to ruin our friendship since we were kids. Why did you think I tried my best to stop you from doing whatever we did in my apartment last night?”

No way. There was absolutely no way.

“S-Since when did you feel this way, Sunwoo?” You needed to know. You needed to see if it aligns with the timeline of when you first knew something was different about the relationship between you two.

“Since high school, senior year to be exact.”

It can’t be.

“Y-You fell first?”

“Huh?”

At this point, you both were just staring at one another in confusion. When Sunwoo finally understood what you meant, your cheeks immediately heated up once again, causing you to turn your back on him.

He fell first. There was absolutely no way he could’ve done that-

Before you had enough time to think about everything, Sunwoo instantly grabbed your shoulder and turned you back to him; his face was now mere inches away, and you could feel his breath upon you.

“Am I thinking this right? Are we on the same page, Y/N?”

“I-I don’t know-”

“Please…just tell me…it’s hurting me so bad from the inside; I need to know, even if it’s a simple nod from you,” he begged.

You were still in denial—or rather, you didn’t want to accept that Sunwoo had feelings for you for a couple of years. It couldn’t be; you were just his childhood friend and nothing else. You weren’t as attractive as the other girls he’s been with; you didn’t smile the way the girls he would often see hanging out in the school cafeteria; you weren’t as outgoing as the girls that he chose every week-

Just as you tried your best to devise a plausible excuse, Sunwoo decided to take matters into his own hands as he pulled your shoulders forward to press his lips against yours.

The way he knew he was best at.

God, it was the same sensation that you felt the night before. Those soft, plump lips made you crave for more, and how his hands felt so warm and gentle against your skin.

At that point, you knew that you didn’t have to say anything as you slowly relaxed your shoulders and eased into the kiss, parting your lips slightly for him to gain more entrance into the kiss. You returned it like he did, passionately making out in the park as if nobody was there to judge.

It had been a minute or two when you both finally broke apart to steady your breathing, Sunwoo’s fingers still resting on your cheeks and caressing them as he looked into your eyes lovingly.

“Yeah, this was way better than getting an answer from your mouth,” he smirked, earning a slap from you on his shoulders.

“You nasty, dirty-minded raccoon!”

“Can you blame me, though? I’m not known as the fuckboy on campus for nothing. Well actually, not anymore, I suppose.” For the first time, he gave you a genuine smile that you hadn't received in a while (not since you both drifted apart a year ago) as he pulled you in to place a little peck on your forehead.

“W-What do you mean, Sunwoo?”

“What I’m saying is I have already gotten my one and only right here, and I don’t have to go around sleeping with other girls anymore,” he winks.

“Gross. I never even agreed to all of this.”

“Well, you don’t have to.” He pulls in for another kiss. “I’m going to make sure that you’re not going to run away from me anymore, and we’ll figure out this whole situationship, or relationship, if that’s what you want to call it, together.”

You sighed. “B-But what if it doesn’t work out? You know it’s not easy going from childhood friends to the…you know…“L” word.”

You had no idea why you felt so shy with that last bit, and Sunwoo could immediately tell by the way you were squirming around restlessly.

“What “L” word, honey? Maybe you should teach me about it,” he grinned.

“Go look it up yourself, dumbhead.”

“Shame. And I was getting used to this new way of talking with you.”

“Disgusting.”

“You love me.”

“No, I don’t.”

With one swift movement, he scooped you up before placing you on his lap, causing you to yelp a bit before he placed both of your arms on both sides of his shoulders. He rested his hands on your hips to keep you in place, smiling at you as if he had just seen the most beautiful and precious human being he had ever laid his eyes upon throughout the past several years.

This was the moment that he had desperately been waiting for.

“I love you so much, Y/N. More than you could ever imagine.”

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iwannasuckyourmonstercock · 5 months

Text

Make the night a little darker

Genre: Smut, Romance

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend and you finally leave the work party. That doesn’t mean that you’ll stop partying.

This was a request btw I hope you like it @sadfragilegirl <3

The laughter inside was still very loud as you left the party. It was undeniable that parties like those pulled at your nerves - especially on your feet. Whoever was the culprit behind the invention of high heels would be doomed if they’d be at your mercy.

“Are you okay? You look a little tired.” you heard a soft voice, making you turn your head. It was Hongjoong. One of your colleagues, he worked in another department.

You two had met during another party - one with more music and less work being the cause of it.

It had been a one night stand - that turned into him serving you breakfast in bed and giving you a massage as you couldn’t walk anymore the day after.

Unfortunately you had forget to exchange phone numbers and you also were too shy to just go back to his apartment. Until you rushed into your new workplace, desperate to get the elevator as you already ran late. You couldn’t be late for your first day, could you? It had been quite a surprise when the person holding the door open for you was the same you had slept with a few nights ago.

From than on he had taken you on multiple dates and recently you two decided to make it official.

“I’m alright… I don’t like work parties much, that’s it.” You shrugged a little but he just fondly patted your head before he took his jacket off to put it on your shoulders.

Obviously Hongjoong had looked right through your facade, he knew it wasn’t only the party. And luckily, he knew exactly what could ease your pain a little.

“Come back to my place. We can walk there in ten minutes and than I’ll give you a little massage.” He offered.

His soft hand touched your cheek again and he made you look at him. You could only stare at him as he gave you his sweetest smile that was reserved for you only.

“Sounds like a plan.” You finally agreed.

A huge smile was on his face as he turned around, offering you a piggyback ride. You definitely wouldn’t pass on that and so you put your hands around his neck loosely. Hongjoong picked you up, his hours of training with his friend San finally paying off.

It did take him a little until he was home and you did have a bit of pity with him. But you knew if you walked any further your feet would kill you. Besides that he had offered to do that and if you had rejected him or tried to get off now he’d only start a fight claiming you basically called him weak by doing so.

Finally you arrived at his apartment. Your boyfriend placed a soft kiss on your forehead after he had put you down. Than he got on his knees, working to get your feet out of your shoes.

“God, I told you to wear the flatter shoes..” he complained, as if he had just hurt himself. “But you always know it better…”

You decided to leave this without a comment, just sighing as they finally came off.

After some more minutes you two were on his couch, enjoying the awesome view along with a glass of wine while his hands worked to give your calves and feet a quick massage.

It was easy to relax under his touch, especially when he worked your muscles so well. His newest purchase was playing softly in the background - a nice jazz album from an artist that was probably long gone by now. But it was exactly Hongjoongs style and you didn’t have any complaints.

“Are you already feeling a little better, my love?” Hongjoong asked softly, placing a kiss on your left knee.

A relieved sigh left your lips and that was enough answer for him. Although - it wouldn’t be Hongjoong if he was satisfied with just that. So instead he moved your body easily and now you rested against his chest. His hands began their work again and he began to massage your shoulders. Slowly you felt how all of the weight from the last few weeks melted away just from his touch.

“You should’ve become a masseur.”

A light chuckle left his lips and he leaned down to kiss your shoulder softly.

“I don’t think so. I wouldn’t have met you again otherwise.”

Your eyes stayed closed, but the smile on your lips was enough to satisfy him. Sometimes your reactions meant much more to him than your words and he had learned to read them just way too good.

It was a blessing and a curse.

“You’re a dork, really.” You finally answered, turning your head to look at him.

“Ah, how so?”

“You’re trying to charm me, you think I don’t notice that?”

Now he was the one who didn’t respond, only giving you a sly grin and grabbing your chin with his hand.

The intensity of his eyes was enough to make you waver a little, but it wasn’t like you really wanted to put up a fight in the first place.

You gulped and couldn’t help yourself much as your eyes flickered to his lips for a moment. They looked delicious. Rosy, shiny from the wine and so, so kissable. Quickly you looked back to his eyes but the sparkle in them already told you that he knew.

Hongjoong already knew that your wetness was pooling in your panties and that he had you. Just for you, he decided to play along. How couldn’t he? It was so much fun to let you pretend like you didn’t crave him just to make you crumble piece by piece.

“You’re a minx. I am spoiling you and you already think that I’m trying to seduce you… That’s taken as an offense.” He pouted, acting as if he was truly offended.

But you didn’t miss the way his left hand wandered to your hips, fondly squeezing it.

“Dork.” You giggled, leaning back and turning a little so you could press a kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Minx.” He whispered against your lips, his other hand land finding the back of your head so you couldn’t escape him.

Not like you wanted that.

Your lips found each other and it started very soft. Both of you knew it would end any but that.

Not like the both of you would mind tho.

For now you enjoyed the sweetness. It made you turn your body, so that you were now sitting on your knees. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, your lips still on his.

Who needed to breath anyways when he was giving you the sweetest kisses there could be?

Soon his greedy hands began to wander down your body, squeezing and touching your hips before he reached for your butt. It was probably his favorite bodypart from you. He loved how soft it was and he always made sure to appreciate it throughly.

Hongjoong pulled you closer now, making you straddle his lap. Your dress was slowly rising up but you didn’t have an ounce of shame in front of Hongjoong. That pervert had kept more than one of your precious panties, you knew that even if he claimed he hadn’t seen them.

“Fuck… You’re so beautiful…” he praised you, eyes opening and lips parted as he still had to catch his breath after taking yours.

“Ah, really? I thought you didn’t think I was-“

Your boyfriend interrupted your yapping with a greedy kiss, obviously having enough of your sarcasm.

A whiny moan left your lips when he squeezed your ass at the same time. His hands pulled you against his growing boner, making you feel exactly how beautiful and sexy he thought you were.

Not like you even had time to doubt that at all. Not with the way he worshipped you like a goddess.

“Is this the only way you can shut me up?” You breathed out, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

Your endless teasing was slowly pulling on Hongjoongs patience. But that was exactly the point.

“Baby…” he growled “you’re doing this on purpose, hm? Acting like a little brat just to rile me up. Just asking for my dick would make it easier for you.”

“But not for you and that is a problem for me.”

This sentence was the one making him man’s handle you in your back, two of his finger finding their way to your lips, softly tapping in them.

You whined again but opened your mouth for him obediently, letting them slide into your mouth. Slowly he pushed them against your tongue, making you choke a little on them as he put them deeper down your throat. But he knew your limits, so it didn’t exactly worry you.

“Not much to say now, hmh, brat?” He chuckled, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Just behave for me and I won’t have to edge you all night, my love.”

He knew he had you when you began to suck on his finger, looking into his dark brown eyes. In this dim light they seemed even darker, especially with the heavy lust for you that was swimming in them.

“That’s it… that’s a good girl, right? You just need a little reminder sometimes.” Hongjoong cooed at you, making you bite his finger lightly.

With a sigh he pulled his finger out and shuffled down so he was right between your legs.

Your dress didn’t leave much to his imagination anymore and he groaned when he looked under your skirt.

“The red ones? You want to drive me crazy.” He growled, immediately grabbing your thighs and pulling you against his mouth.

Greedily he licked over your clothed cunt, making you shiver a little and whine out. Oh, it’d only be better if he would finally remove the panties. But if you said anything you knew he’d seriously get mad. That wasn’t the goal, you just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feral and wild.

You loved when he got like that.

It didn’t take long until your boyfriend got too impatient, pulling your panties down clumsily and pocketing them.

“Hey, I saw that! I knew you- f-uck! Rude!” You complained as he cut your rant short by stuffing you with two of his fingers and sucking at your clit.

A devilish smirk was on his face and you could only watch as he began to destroy you. His fingers were so nice, thicker than yours and even if not much, they were still a little longer.

Soft moans left your lips as he curled his fingers into your most sensitive spot, making your back arch. He loved how you moaned for him, whether it was his name or just nonsense - he loved both.

Especially when you weren’t too far away from your orgasm anymore. That was the best.

“Moan for me, baby. You know I love it.” Hongjoong growled against your lips, now working to replace the faded hickeys on your thighs with new ones.

He loved to do that. While he was mature enough to understand that hickeys in obvious places would embarrass you, his primal side still loves to see at least some part of you marked by him. It was such a natural instinct, he just couldn’t resist it.

And you wouldn’t complain. It felt amazing when his soft lips were sucking on your soft skin, occasionally he even bit down a little. The way he was tender and rough at the same time was just mind blowing.

Meanwhile his fingers still worked their way into you, and by now he had three fingers in you. Your hot cunt clenched around them as his thumb slid up to your clit. He rubbed right where he knew you liked it.

Your mouth was hanging open and you felt a bit of drool running down your cheek. But you couldn’t care less right now.

“Fucking hell, baby. You are dripping. Might need a new couch afterwards.” He joked, but it was very much true.

The sweet juice was running down your folds, and Hongjoong would hate for his couch to get stained. So he stopped marking you and began to lick it away. As always, he was greedy doing it. And the texture of his tongue felt even better now that you were stuffed with three of his fingers.

With how you clenched down on him and how you were letting your juices out for him, he knew it wouldn’t take long until you’d cum.

Just before your release he pulled away, his tongue darting out to kick some remains of you away from the corner of his mouth.

“N-no! No, Joongie! I just needed a little more!” You cried out, some tears in your eyes now.

Your boyfriend only tutted, grabbing your wrists and holding them up with one hand.

“Calm down. I’ll let you come, but only in my cock. Now spread your legs like the good girl you are and let me fill you up just how you like it.”

He didn’t need to say that twice. Your legs were spread and you pulled down your dress a bit so he could see your chest as well.

His right hand was lifted and he began to play with your tit, massaging it and pulling on the nipple a bit. Than he wiped your juices from his hand off on them and gently slapped your tit.

Finally he reached for his belt, opening it quickly before he opened his pants and pulled them down.

“That’s a good girl… fuck, yeah….” He mumbled, thick cock now out and obviously rock hard already. Lazily he pumped it a few times before he slowly tapped it against your entrance.

The action made you clench around nothing in anticipation. It was so mean to tease you like this - and he knew it.

“Hongjoong, fuck if you don’t-“

“If I don’t what?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and now rubbing his tip over your soaked folds. It felt so nice and hot and honestly, he could probably cum just like that if he didn’t hold back.

“We both know you can’t do shit, just take whatever I chose to give you.”

A soft whine left your lips when he finally pushed into you. It was only a bit at first, his teasing obviously not finished yet. Time seemed endless as he continued to push his tip in, just to pull out again.

At this point tears were gathering in your eyes. Deeply your boyfriend chuckled when he saw it. You were just way too cute for him. Always yapping so much but the moment his dick entered you it was always over.

And as you didn’t complain again and really took what he gave you, he decided to be lenient today. So he finally pushed into you all the way, stretching you out around him and making you choke out a moan.

Gently his hands rubbed your thighs, his eyes finding yours to get some reassurance that you were fine. After you gave him a soft nod he began to move his hips, gentle and slow at first. His tip nudged against the best spots inside of you and your eyes fell shut at the feeling.

This was really something you could get used to and the slight buzz from the alcohol just made it all feel much better.

As he realized that you were enjoying yourself very much, Hongjoong began to slam his hips harshly against yours. It wasn’t fast at all but every thrust made you sink deeper into the couch and soft whines filled the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Hongjoong was just equally in bliss, his eyes watching how your tits bounced and how your face contorted in pleasure. And the way your walls squeezed him so nicely, holding him in a warm embrace and slowly bringing him closer and closer to his edge.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck again, his hands moving from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place as he picked up the pace.

“And all mine… you’re just mine.”

Each kiss reminded you of just that and eagerly you nodded, whining for him as he placed a kiss on your neck again. Softly he began to suck on that spot before the softness began to fade and he harshly pulled at your skin, inevitably turning the spot into a mix of blue and purple.

“F-eels so good… Joongie…” you whined out, hands on his biceps and fingernails digging into his skin.

His pace was picking up more and more, and his groans and breaths gave away that he’d come soon.

He was very much aware of that and so one of his hands moved down, freshly manicured thumb finding your clit and with much expertise he rubbed it just the way you had showed him when you had first been intimate.

It was nice that he just followed the advice you had given him - after all most men never wanted to listen, claiming to know you better than yourself and than being petty about not being able to make you cum. With him it was different. He listened, he valued your pleasure just like he valued his own. If not even more.

“Joongie…” you whined, already feeling your peak.

“I know baby, I know… just let it go… you’re doing so fucking good for me, hmh? Such a good girl, just cum for me.” His slow kiss on your lips along with the steady pace of his hips and his thumb made you tumble over to edge with a moan into his mouth.

Patiently he fucked you through your orgasm, his motions not stopping until he didn’t feel your cunt pulsing around him anymore.

Only than did he take his thumb off of your clit and place his hands next to your head, beginning to move faster to reach his own high.

It made you whine and cry, but you didn’t complain, wanting him to feel good as well. And if you were honest, the overstimulation did also feel good

Your eyes opened and you watched him. His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed a little as he fucked harder into you.

“You feel so fucking good… a-h…” he groaned, pushing himself deep inside of you as he came, his hot cum pumping into you.

Another whine left your lips as you felt it, his hips not stopping as he fucked it deep into you.

“Love you…” you said softly, making his eyes open and his face light up a bit.

“I love you so much more…” he whispered against your lips, softly kissing you again.

- - -

The sun was already rising and Hongjoong was drinking the last remains of his wine while you rested on his chest. His empty hand gently ran through your hair and he smiled as you both watched the sunrise.

“I can’t stop the sun from rising now… but we can at least make the night a little darker.” He whispered into your ear.

#ateez #ateez smut #kpop #kpop smut #smut #ateez filth #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #kim hongjoong

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duffslut · 1 month

Text

Why'd you only call me when you're high? *2*

Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Part *One* of this story.

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 1001

Warnings: Angst!

The day dawned and your body was exactly the same way Izzy had laid it on the bed last night, you didn't know what time you had finally fallen asleep, but you had the feeling that you slept for a very short time. You sat up in bed and rested your back against the headboard, feeling a sharp pain in your head that made you let out a groan. You had no intention of getting up, your body seemed to be stuck to the sheets, you reached over to the desk and grabbed a cigarette.

The day was clear but cold and you felt relieved it was sunday and you didn't have to go to work in the state you were in. You took a drag on your cigarette and let the smoke slowly come out of your nose, your phone rang but you were too lazy to answer it, you heard it ring until the call went to voicemail.

"Hey, mhm... I don't know if you're awake yet but, Izzy told me about last night, he's feeling really bad I think you guys should talk."

And suddenly you remembered. Izzy had come to your house last night, you talked too much, told him you loved him and he just left. The memories came rushing back, making your head hurt even more, and a boiling anger took over you. You answered the phone before Duff hung up.

"You can tell your stupid friend that he has no right to feel bad and that meeting him was the worst thing I ever did in my life!"

You hung up the phone, slamming it down hard. How typical of Izzy, to send his friend to deliver a message for him. What a coward. You said to yourself mentally, trying your best to hate him, you knew that declaring yourself might not happen as expected, but you never imagined that Izzy could be so cold to you, leaving you alone without even an answer.

You walked around the room not knowing what to do, your whole like was such a mess. You were on your third cigarette, still wearing your pajamas when your doorbell rang.

You threw your cigarette butt in the ashtray and went to answer it, wondering who would disturb you on a sunday morning.

- No! - You screamed and closed the door immediately when you saw who was standing behind it.

- Y/n Please! - You heard Izzy say, knocking on the door again. - Please just give me a chance!

You covered your mouth with both hands, and let your body fall to the ground, feeling your throat hurt and your eyes burn, you were about to start crying. Why was he there? Wasn't it enough to humiliate you last night? To leave you alone and drunk after you had just told him you loved him? You remained silent, maybe he would give up and leave.

Minutes passed and the knocking on the door finally stopped, you got up and opened it to check if he had really gone. As soon as you opened it, a warm hand touched your face and Izzy kissed you, on impulse, you responded, with tears running down your cheeks, but then you returned to your senses and pushed him away slowly.

- Why are you doing this, Izzy? - You asked, genuinely confused, why was he there?

Izzy didn't take his eyes off yours, he entered your room and closed the door without looking back, a mixture of feelings ran through your body, and you had to sit down. Izzy seemed embarrassed but at the same time restless, he didn't move or say anything for a few moments.

- I'm sorry. - Was the first thing he said.

- Don't apologize for not loving me back Izzy. - You spoke quietly, not having the courage to look him in the eyes.

You felt his confused stare at you.

- Y/n, I never imagined I could have someone like you. - He said, you kept your head down while Izzy walked to the other couch and sat down. - I never imagined that you could want to have anything with me.

You listened to his words, still unable to understand where he was going with this, he waited for an answer for a while, but you didn't say anything.

- I tried to distract myself by going to parties, drinking like a drunkard and doing drugs, but you were always on my mind, so much so that I always ended up calling you. - You looked up. - I always called you because you were the one I really wanted, it was always you, Y/n.

Izzy sighed, you didn't know what to think.

- Why didn't you say anything yesterday? - It was the only answer you could think of.

- I was taken by surprise, I was too nervous, I was too drunk and I said things I would never have said to you, if you knew how much I wanted to hurt myself for making you cry... Leaving you alone in that bed was more painful for me than for you Y/n, believe me, I was so disgusted when I realized you were right, that I actually used you.

- Please don't talk about yourself like that. - You said.

- It's what I deserve, because I loved you and didn't treated you like I should have, and now I've lost you forever.

- You loved me? - You asked.

- I've always did, and I think I always will.

You finally let out the air that had been trapped in your lungs since Izzy had started talking, he loved you! Seeing him being so intimate and sincere with you made you realize that you could never hate him, not even if you wanted to.

- I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry, for everything. -Izzy said getting up and heading to the door.

It took you a few seconds to get up and run to him.

- Izzy! - He turned around and you threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. - Stay.

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security-chief-odo · 6 months

Text

To Love and be Loved in Return - Chapter 5: The Morning After

Roy Kent x Reader

Chapter 1 2 3 4

Word count: ~1.7k

Description: Will drunken confessions lead to sober actions? Of course they will, this is a romance story for fuck's sake.

• • •

Roy tosses and turns on your couch throughout the night. He tries telling himself that it’s just because the couch isn’t comfortable, but he knows it’s more than that. He is wrestling overwhelming excitement over the night’s revelations and crippling doubt that maybe you’d regret it all in the morning.

As he stirs for about the 5th time tonight, it isn’t his own thoughts that wreck his sleep, but a clambering sound from the kitchen.His eyes wrench awake to see you searching through your medicine cabinet.

“It’s on your night stand.” He says, his voice made even more gruff by tiredness.

You jolt at the sound from across the room. You let yourself relax a little once you realize who those words were from and turn to face him with your brows knit in confusion.

“The aspirin. It’s by your bed along with a glass of water.”

“Oh. Thanks.” In your groggy confusion you add, “Why are you in my flat?”

“Good morning to you too.” You flip him off in response, your headache eroding your patience to nothingness. He chuckles to himself as he follows you towards the bedroom, stopping in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Gonna go out on a limb and say you have no memory of last night?”

You groan at that and flop down on your bed. You have no idea what happened after you called him to pick you up, but that knowing tone lacing his words didn’t bode well for you.

Roy comes closer and grabs the glass of water and ibuprofen and holds them out to you. “Sit up and take these sweetheart. That headache isn’t gonna get any better on its own.”

You slowly sit up, stretching as you do. You take the pills from him, eagerly awaiting the moment the throbbing at your temples fades away. With a large gulp, they’re gone and you’re left with nothing to do but try to piece together the end of the night before.

“So what exactly happened last night?”

“Oh not much,” Roy puts far too much effort into seeming nonchalant as he adds, “just you confessing your undying love for me.”

You don’t process the way that Roy is smiling or that he called you a pet name just moments ago, you are too consumed with self-doubt when you practically beg, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

He tries to seem unconcerned when he replies, fearing you may not have meant your words, despite everything, including Keeley pointing to them being true. “Did you mean it?”

“No. Yes. Fucking hell.” You slam your face into a pillow both out of frustration with yourself and to avoid having to see his face as he inevitably rejects you. With a long sigh you continue, “Yes I meant it. No I didn’t mean to say it.”

The tension that had taken hold of Roy is finally released along with the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding in. He knows your feelings, so now he can finally let loose and tease you a bit. “So did you also not mean to say yes to being my girlfriend?”

You slowly lift your face from your pillow and Roy falls in love with you again as he can practically read the thoughts on your face as you process his words. “You fucking asshole!” you toss the pillow at him and he only annoys you more by catching it. “You couldn’t have started with that?”

He lets out a hearty laugh at your outburst. “Well I wasn’t sure you meant it and I didn’t want to assume.”

“Of course, I want to be your girlfriend Roy.” you roll your eyes, “Wait, is that why you slept over? Did we do something last night?”

He softly shakes his head, “That’s why I slept on the couch love. I didn’t want to do anything you wouldn’t remember or worse, might regret in the morning”

“That’s very sweet, though I could never regret you.”

Roy can’t fight the smile that crosses his lips at that. “Let me make you breakfast.”

**********

After breakfast you take over cleaning up since he did all of the cooking. You’re about halfway done when Roy comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he mumbles against your neck.

“And watching me do dishes is what made you realize this?” you say in disbelief.

“No, you walking into my office the day we met is what made me realize that. I just haven’t been allowed to say it until now.” He kisses at your neck and you squirm in his arms.

“Roy, I need to finish the dishes and you are not making that easy right now.”

“Oh am I distracting you?” He teases.

“Yes, you are. I’d like to not have dishes to do later if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” He reaches around and takes the dish and sponge from your hand, discarding them into the sink. “I’ll take care of them later if you’ll let me take care of you now.”

You turn in his arms, “You better put them away in their spots too.”

With that he nods and finally locks lips with you. Your thoughts melt away as need courses through both of your veins. The kiss is almost painfully slow at first. His lips barely touch yours in a soft, tender kiss. “I’ve waited so long for that.” He sighs as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Then, why’d you stop?” With that, he crashes his lips against yours. The intensity of this kiss consumes you as he slides one hand off of your hip along your side before having it rest at your neck, holding you close to him.

You gasp and he deepens the kiss. As if moving of their own accord, your hands settle on his chest, feeling his strong muscles tense as he pulls you flush against him. His hand against your neck moves slightly upwards, entangling itself in your hair. He pulls at it ever so slightly, guiding you to tilt your head, granting him unfettered access to your neck.

Roy leaves a trail of kisses down your jaw as he finds his way to your neck, leaving warm, hot kisses in his path. He zeroes in on your pulse point and you let out a moan. His hand at your hip slides down to the top of your thigh, toying with the hem of your pajama shorts. You can’t help the shiver that takes over your body at this teasing touch.

He lets out a pleased hum at your reaction and lets the hand that was in your hair drop to the hem of your shirt. He slides your shirt up just enough to let his warm hand settle against your now bare waist. You grind up against him eagerly as you feel his arousal against you and he practically growls.

Both of his hands drop to just below your ass to lift you up onto the counter. You slide your shirt up and off and he pulls back to openly oggle you. “You’re so fucking sexy babe.” he groans. His mouth latches onto one nipple, and your back arches as you get the attention you have been craving from him for so long.

His hands tease at your inner thighs and your hips buck desperate for him to touch you. One of his hands settles at the apex of your thigh and right as he lightly grazes your clit with his thumb you hear your phone loudly ringing in the other room.

“Fuck.” you both groan simultaneously. He pulls away and you rush to answer your phone. He follows, hoping maybe this will be quick and you could pick up right where you left off.

“Hey Keeley, what’s up?”

“I’ll be there in like 5 minutes.” she replies.

“What?” you ask.

“We’re going dress shopping, remember?”

“Fuck, I totally forgot. I’ll need a bit longer than that to get ready. I’ll text you when I’m ready and then you can head over.”

“I’m already in the car, I don’t mind waiting in the living room while you get ready.”

You can’t think of a good reason to say no, so the panic sets in as you say, “Of course, see you in a few.”

Roy cocks his head at you. “Keeley’s coming over?”

“Dress shopping”

“Shit.” He groans.

“We can’t tell her this happened yet,” you say gesturing between the two of you, “she’ll be way too smug about it.”

He nods curtly as he frantically gathers his keys and coat to go hide in your room. You’re brushing your teeth when you unlock the door for Keeley. You gesture silently to the couch as you rush back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Once you finish getting ready, you quietly kiss Roy before leaving with Keeley.

**********

After hours of shopping and chatting, you settled on the perfect dress for the gala and she pulls up to your flat to drop you off. You grab the dress bag from her trunk and come back to tell her goodbye.

As you start to walk away she calls after you, “Tell Roy I said hi!” and that makes you stop dead in your tracks. You turn back to her and try to play dumb but before you can get out an excuse she cuts you off. “You smell like his cologne and his car is literally right there babes.”

Tempted to try to deny it anyways, you think better of it and reply, “You knew the whole time didn’t you?”

“Since before I stepped foot into your flat.” she nods. “Love ya! Have fun with Roy.” She waves with a wink before pulling away. As you bound up the steps to your flat, a flush crosses your face in both embarrassment at being found out so quickly and in excitement that Roy didn’t leave.

• • •

Sorry for my absence y’all! Life’s been crazy, my pipes burst twice, I’m getting a promotion at work and I got engaged.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten @taytaylala12 @siriuslyreads @ashy-kit @isla-finke-blog @laukora1030 @tamberjo @queen-of-the-downtown-scene @harry-bowie-mercury

#reader insert #roy kent/reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent ted lasso #roy kent fluff #Roy Kent smut #roy kent #brett goldstein #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso

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everythingmp3 · 1 month

Text

late night love

adult!Van x fem!reader

you have a rough day and your girlfriend refuses to let you go to sleep stressed out and on your own.

authors note: I kept thinking about gf!Van and wanted to write sth romantic/casually intimate for her so this came from that <3

warnings: somewhat nswf but not very explicit, still minors dni

it had been of those days.

you’d woken up disheveled and tired after a restless night and felt completely out of it, but it was the day before an exam, so you had to drag yourself to the library and study for as many hours as possible.

later that night, after trying your very best to stay awake and power through it all, you used the time during your walk back home to call Van, just to hear her voice, to be calmed by it for a second, to try and forget about everything else for a few minutes. your girlfriend knew you too well at that point not to hear it immediately, that you were exhausted and close to tears at certain points, that you were putting up a tough front, but instead of calling you out on it, she joked around with you a little, told you a bit about her own day, and reminded you how much she was looking forward to having you back the next day.

at that point in your relationship, you slept over at Van’s place more and more, but you still stayed in your own room every few days, mostly when you had something to do early the next morning, since you refused to make her drive you across town, even though she would have done it, in a heartbeat. that week, you’d planned to come back to her place right after you were done with your last exam, to stay over for the entire weekend, but that night after your call, Van didn’t like the idea of waiting another night to see you again, at all.

she knew that you didn’t like to admit when you were going through it and needed her to be there for you, she was aware that you were careful with asking too much of her and it did pain her sometimes, that you thought it would be possible to scare her off, when she was so deeply devoted to you. still, she couldn’t be mad because she had a similar habit of downplaying her own issues, you two weren’t very dissimilar that way, so she made it her responsibility to notice whenever you were a bit fragile and could use some extra support.

after hearing you sound so drained, she couldn’t just sit on her couch and relax, it was impossible to ignore the urge to check up on you, so, around 9.30, after debating for a while whether it was a good idea or not, she finally thought “fuck it” and left her place to go drive over to yours. she didn´t text and didn’t call because she had no interest in being talked out of it.

while she was doing that, you were in your room, on your bed, in total silence, just laying there, not even listening to music because you were so spaced out. it wasn’t that you were particularly depressed about anything, but the days before had been stressful and there was a lethargy to you that night, that made no activity seem appealing except laying there and feeling sorry for yourself.

and then, you heard a knock. your roommate came in and grinned at you while saying, “hey. you have a guest”, which confused you for a second, before you saw her: right there, standing in the doorframe: Van. her familiar warm smile, her head tilted, her soothing voice “hey there”.

your roommate quickly excused herself and left you to it. Van stepped into your room and was tickled by your stunned expression, the mix of shock and delight, the effect she had hoped for on her way over. you had to process for a second, and when you realized that she was actually there, reliable and generous as always, you briefly hid your face in your hands and let out a sound akin to a cry, which made her laugh as she stepped closer.

you shook your head and looked back up again “oh my god. you have no idea how glad I am to see you, I actually might cry right now…it´s so late, what are you doing here?” you reached both of your hands out for her, eagerly beckoning her closer, so she got down onto the bed to sit next to you, her hands in yours then. she smiled, visibly amused, eyeing you to confirm what she’d suspected “well, I had a feeling you wouldn’t admit that you wanted me to come and be here for you, so, I took a wild guess”.

the way she looked at you then, all tender and patient, with such evident affection for you written all over her pretty face, made you realize just how desperately you’d missed her the days before, so your instincts kicked in full force and you pulled her down onto the bed next to you.

before she knew it, she was on her back. you draped one of your legs over hers and held her close while nuzzling your face against her neck and breathing in, deeply, which immediately returned a sense of ease to your body, your breathing more relaxed the second you felt her body warm against yours, her arm snaking around your back, a quiet laugh as she felt you lose all ability to pretend you hadn’t been dying to be comforted by her presence. “poor thing, you had a rough day, hm?” she cooed while, running her hand up and down your spine, a nod from you while you held onto her and savored the feeling of being all over her.

Van was used to your affection, to your ability to charm her in an instant, to the way you offered your love to her without holding back, even back when you’d only been together for a few weeks, she knew you as a passionate and sweet lover, but she wasn’t used to that more needy side of you, the side you usually hid from her. you made a point of being pleasant to be around when you were with her, you told yourself that you’d leave her alone whenever you were having an awful day, that would not bring her mood down, even though you had no issue tending to her when she was going through it.

it was clear that your logic was absurd because as your girlfriend she obviously didn’t see it as a burden to be there for you, the same way you were always there for her, but that was something you were still learning, still getting used to, and she had no problem being patient. it was endearing to her, that you were shy in that way, and needed a bit of helping along from her. Van recognized some of herself in it, your insistence on never being a burden, it made sense that you two had found each other, to maybe learn how to accept someone else’s care at the same time, to teach each other the same lesson through your shared love.

you were too overjoyed by having her back earlier than expected to be self-conscious about anything in that moment though, so after laying on her for a second, you moved up a bit to lean in and kiss her neck, all over, soft, heartfelt kisses that made her sigh in pleasure as she ran her fingers through your hair and felt herself grow hot, since she was not expecting you to snap out of your tiredness so fast.

it came out of nowhere, but her unannounced visit and the instant thought “I always wanna be around her” when you saw her walk into your room, made you feel overwhelmed with love for her in that moment, and she could tell from how you pushed your hand under her shirt to feel her up, how you hummed while getting lost in the sensation of her soft pale skin against your lips, how you laid there on your side, pressed against her, soaking it all up, the familiar faint scent of musk and wood from her perfume, still lingering on her at the end of the day, the smell of home for you, a sensual reminder of many nights you’d spent wrapped in her embrace.

eventually you moved up and continued your intense wordless way of saying “I’m so glad you´re here” by kissing her all over her face, her eyes shut, a faint giggle as you leaned over her and kissed her nose right in the middle, her cheek, her temple, right above her eyebrow, a lingering kiss on her forehead, a feverish trail of kisses, that left her blushing and utterly content, happy to just lay there and hold onto your back, as you had your way and let her feel just how much you loved every part of her, how easy it was for you to find energy even on a rough day, if she was there next to you. it was one of the things that had surprised her the most during the first weeks of being with you: how much you loved physical intimacy, not just the sexual kind.

to her you were the one out of the two of you who should be worshiped, it was clear to her that you were the one deserving of it, but you had matched that energy right from the start, and it never failed to make her grow even fonder of you than she already was, to feel your desire for her equaling hers for you. one time, after you were done having sex, you’d kissed her knees out of nowhere and it had almost made her cry . she had many memories like that and you kept adding to them.

after a while, you pressed a final kiss right onto her lips and drew it out for a few seconds, before pulling away and letting her collect herself, laying down on your back too then, your hand still on her, unwilling to go one second without touching her.

Van turned to you, a grin on her face, a sparkle in her eyes, her hair slightly disheveled from your sudden move on her. “damn, I should catch you in a weak moment more often I think” she mused, which made you smile, “please do, yes. god I fucking missed you...” the last part was said wistfully, and she had to laugh then because she couldn’t believe your sudden willingness to let her see it all that openly, it wasn’t your usual style, to be dramatic, but she clearly loved it, being so openly needed.

“can you promise me something, baby?”, she asked, the pet name almost prompting you to push her down and kiss her again, “yes, what?” you nodded, looking at her, playing with her hand absentmindedly. “next time you’re having a bad day or wish I was here, just straight up tell me, alright? I can always say no if I want to, but I won´t want to, so don’t attempt to hide it. otherwise, I’ll have to ambush you like this again”. that last part made you laugh, and you knew what she meant, so you agreed “okay, yes, I will tell you next time, thank you. I’m really lucky to have you, you know”.

she shook her head, “no, it’s not luck, you make it pretty fucking easy to wanna see you, like.. I am not that selfless. I wouldn’t have come over right now if I didn’t wanna see you anyway” she said, while moving over a bit to return what you’d just done and kiss your cheek while letting her hands wander down your body, eager to see you relax even more, an immediate surrender to her, your eyes fluttering shut, your fingers in her hair, your mind finally quiet.

she was still in her regular clothes and it was almost 10 pm by then, so naturally you expected her to leave sometime soon, but she had another idea. she sat upright on your bed and looked around the room for a moment before asking, “should I sleep over?”. she’d been over to your place before a few times before but never for long because the privacy and space at her place were much preferable; she’d joked about how awkward it would be to stay over when she was so many years older than you and your roommates, so the question caught you off-guard, but you wanted nothing more.

“what, really?”, you said, incredulous. she nodded, determined “yeah, I mean, I´ll get over how weird it is for me to sleep in a house with a bunch of twenty-somethings at my age, it’s fine, I just wanna stay with you right now”. your face lit up then, the evening was getting better and better, “well you’re much cooler than her boyfriend, so, that cancels the age thing out I think”. that made Van laugh then, “imagine us four in a room together, jesus christ”, you joined in on the joke, “oh you’d love it, some random young guy, surely you’d have a great time trying to talk to him”.

of course you knew that college age guys were about the last group of people Van had any interest in talking to, the image alone weirded her out, “yeah no thanks” she said in a dry tone, shaking her head. you teased her a bit then, nudging her in the side, “you’ll stick to the young women instead, hm?”. she looked directly at you then, “yes. one young woman, to be specific. mine” that last word went straight to your core.

“you can say that again” you urged her. Van knew she’d gotten you good with that, a self-satisfied smile when she leaned closer to you, “what, that you’re mine?” she whispered, “hm” you nodded while meeting her in the middle until your lips almost touched. she gave in and repeated herself, “you’re all mine” her breath close enough to feel its warmth, “yes, yes I am” you said before pulling her in for another kiss, a slower and deeper one than before, moving onto her lap to be chest to chest with her while holding her face, making out for a moment to savor the taste of her, addicted to the way she always melted right into you, a light moan when you touched tongues. one thing that had turned you on right from the start, was that she wasn’t an aggressive lover but a submissive one, she followed your lead, opened her mouth for you, let you grab and push her, wanted you to; kissing her was divine, hearing her sweet sounds whenever you pressed yourself down on her, touched her chest, overwhelmed her.

a few minutes later, Van stood up and took of her flannel because she’d gotten way too warm, throwing it over your chair while looking around your room with a slightly judgemental look. “you need a maid, or something?” she said with a low tone, lovingly messing with you a bit. you knew she was referring to the clothes on your floor and the clutter on your desk.

“oh come on” you said, slightly embarrassed, “it’s not that bad, considering my stress level. I have been dealing with finals all week, you know, cut me some slack”. Van nodded and grinned while moving to pick some of your stuff up, which was met by protest from you “hey, no, you didn´t start dating to play mommy for someone, I’ll do that”. she was busy folding a shirt of yours as she responded “well, my mom never took care of my things, so, to me this isn´t “mommy” stuff ”. she joked like that without realizing just how upsetting the thought of her younger self being neglected was to you, until she looked over and saw your pained expression, so she backtracked, “sorry, a bit too dark, huh”.

“you know your mom is lucky she´s dead already” you said, dead-pan, serious, which made her whip her head around while putting the clothes she’d picked up from the floor into your closet, her eyebrows raised, “oh yeah? because you’d go to Jersey and take her out for me if she wasn´t, hm?” she asked, ironically of course, but you nodded, not laughing, “probably”.

Van hadn’t told you the full extent but she’d told you enough about her childhood for you to know it hadn’t been pretty, whatsoever. it always got to her, to see how deeply you cared for her, how rage-inducing it was for you to imagine her as a kid, scared and alone. it never failed to touch her, the fact that you were much younger than her but still saw her as someone deserving of your protection.

once she was done cleaning up your floor, she took the liberty of lighting a few your candles and cracking the window a bit, to give the room a final fresh touch. “okay, so, should we get ready for bed?” she asked, nonchalantly, pretending she couldn’t tell you were busy admiring her from your bed. you loved the sound of that, wanting nothing more than to get under the covers with her already, so you got up to join her “yes, please. you can steal some of my clothes for once”.

usually you were the one who slept dressed in her shirts, in her bed, so there was something sweet about it, to switch those roles for a night. both you and her had already showered earlier that evening, so you only had to go brush your teeth, a brief heads-up to your roommate on the way to the bathroom that your girlfriend would be sleeping over, a knowing wink from her when she said “sure, no problem” because you were on good terms and she´d told you before that she approved of Van despite the considerable age difference. she thought you´d picked well judging by the few glimpses she´d caught of Van before.

after taking turns with your toothbrush because there wasn’t a fresh one available and she had no issue using her lover’s - 19 months in the wilderness having eliminated any sense of disgust over innocent things like that - you went back to your room and got into bed. you immediately moved your arm and leg over her under the blanket to be as close as possible, a sound of approval from her as she got comfortable and enjoyed the unfamiliar feeling of being in her lover’s room for the night.

you could hear a quiet laugh from her then, so you asked “what is it?”, a pause before she changed her tone to imitate you, “no, don’t worry, I’m fine, it’s all good”, the thing you’d unconvincingly told her over the phone earlier, so you gave her a light shove. “oh perfect, I’m glad you´re entertained by all that”. she put her hand on your head then, caressing you lightly, “no, I was actually pretty worried, I hate when you get like that”.

you held onto her a bit tighter then, “oh it’s fine, tomorrow is the last final, then I have the whole weekend with you. I’m spoiled honestly, complaining doesn’t really seem right”. she was charmed by that, “well, I’ll make sure you’ll relax properly, don’t you worry. oh by the way, when do you have to be up tomorrow?”.

you reached over her for a moment then, unelgenatly laying on her stomach and pressing your weight onto her to grab your phone from the nightstand before laying back down again. “uh, the exam is at 8 and I need like half an hour to get ready and eat, so. I’ll put the alarm for seven.” she smiled, eyeing you, “isn’t the walk only like five minutes?”. you nodded, “yes. but I am gonna need that other half hour for something else”. she caught the subtext of course but she wanted to hear you say it.

“yeah?”, you put your phone away and moved over to put your face close to hers. “yeah, I wanna start the day right. on a high” you whispered, grinning at her. Van nodded, her palm against your cheek then, her breath still faintly peppermint scented, “good. I can help with that, I think”. you nodded, challenging her “me too”, a faint blush on her freckled cheeks then.

you were used to switching in your relationship, and it was fun to tease each other with it, to be equally eager to please, a shared anticipation in that moment when you both imagined giving the other one head the next morning while you were still soft and warm from sleep, trying to be quiet so nobody would overhear, reminding yourselves to not get lost in other acts, so you wouldn’t run late, stealing a few more touches before you’d have to get dressed.

“it’s becoming impossible to ever wanna sleep alone”, you said, your voice already sleepy and quiet, your eyes closed, hers too as she got settled on your pillow while you remained laying on her chest. “well, that was my plan here of course. maybe you’ll consider my offer of driving you to class again, hm?”. you couldn’t deny that it did sound ideal to spend more nights at her place.“yeah I think I will. but don’t blame me if you get sick of me then” you whispered, already half asleep, she shook her head, “impossible. I love being with you, always”. she wasn’t the type for exaggerating, you knew she meant it, so you reached up and put your hand on her head, stroking her hair for a second, “me too. thank you for coming over and being sweet. I love you so much”.

it was second nature for her, to do all of that, so she sometimes forgot that it meant a lot to you, the same way you sometimes didn’t understand just how meaningful certain little gestures of yours were to her, so she gave you a squeeze and moved the blanket further up over your bodies before whispering “I love you too. sleep well, angel”.

#yellowjackets #van palmer #van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader

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darlingmbappe · 2 years

Text

The Loneliest [4] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Kylain has shown you just how much he wants you and him to work out, initiating a second chance you weren’t sure you’d give.

Warnings: Angst? Very minimal. Little bit of fluff. Hangovers, cussing, chef!kylian, mentions of insecurities in a relationship, and that’s about it. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

The afternoon sun steeped through your closed eyelids, immediately you felt your head beginning to pound, your pupils felt like they were throbbing. Even with your face now stuffed into the pillow, it was still too bright, and you were still too damn comfy.

You tugged the comforter over your head, letting it engulf you entirely. What the hell did you drink last night? There was maybe a 5% chance of you leaving your extra snuggly bed today, and that percentage is reserved for peeing and taking a giant Advil. Memories of flashing club lights and loud house music rushed through your tired mind, and you muffled a loud groan into your pillow, wondering why you decided that buckets of alcohol would somehow make you feel better about telling Kylian about your night with Haaland during your heart to heart after training… Damn you, tequila.

Alas, the time came where you couldn’t keep holding your bladder and you ripped the sheets off of you like a bandaid, looking up at the ceiling… except it was not the ceiling you expected to see. The flood of confusion that took over your brain was palpable as you stared up at the familiar high walls and designer light fixture dangling above your body. Your heart rate increased as it dawned on you that you were not in fact in your new bed in your new apartment, but your old bed (albeit, much more comfortable bed) in the house you used to share with the very man you were trying to forget.

“Goddamnit.” You blurted into the air, noticing that you're wearing his old Mickey Mouse shirt you left behind. Looking next to you reluctantly, you thanked god that Kylians side of the bed was far too undisturbed for him to have possibly slept there with you – but maybe you wouldn't rule anything out just yet.

You sat up slowly, noticing your old nightstand provided a tall glass of water, two headache relief pills, and your phone on the charger. 1:30 pm. Holy shit. The last time you slept in that late was when Kylian gave you the flu last year. Poor thing felt so bad… as he should. It was a miserable four days of nothing but puking and Netflix. It’s not a very fond memory and it was definitely not the best idea to think about at this moment because you had to sprint out of bed like it electrocuted you, beelining to the toilet, barely making it before you began to throw up nothing but clear liquid that stung your throat as it shot out.

Kylian heard your footsteps from the floor below you, his heart rate increasing. Finally, you were up. He would have been concerned if he hadn’t been listening to your soft snores whenever he passed by the door, not noticing how he grinned stupidly every time. He stood from the couch and made his way to the kitchen to cook the only thing he knew you ate while nursing a hangover; two eggs and cheddar cheese on a multigrain bagel with a side of turkey bacon.

He felt like he had his in. He felt like today was finally the day that he could start trying again with you… really trying. Getting through to you has taken time – which is fair enough and he understands your reasons behind waiting – but all he wants is to show you that he’s changed. That he won't revert back to the aloof asshole of a man that wouldn't listen to you. He wouldn’t take you for granted for a second. Losing you was so painful, he couldn't possibly do that to himself again. He couldn't do that to you again.

As you started descending down the stairs, Kylian set you a placemat at your favorite spot by the window, a small bouquet of flowers sat in the center, a glass of orange juice, water, and a mug full of coffee all snuggly placed next to your breakfast… Well, lunch.

The second he saw your sweet frame enter the room with his old shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled, all pouty and squinty, his stomach did flips. You looked so beautiful to him, all he wanted to do was hug you tightly and pepper your face with kisses. One day…

“Hey, sleepy.” He grinned at you, standing next to the table nervously, now feeling like he’s overdone it with the display, twiddling with his hands.

“Is that for me?” You tiredly asked, rubbing your eyes and trudging over to your usual breakfast spot, sitting comfortably in the seat.

He sat across from you, moving the flowers slightly to the left so his view of you wouldn't be obstructed. “Yes, I… um...” He looks at the neat placement of the meal, slightly embarrassed, “If you're not hungry you can save it for later, or… I don’t know.” He waves off, trying his hardest to be cool and nonchalant.

“I’m starving.” You calmed his anxiety, immediately grabbing the hot coffee cup, sipping it and instantly feeling some life make its way back into your veins, humming out in satisfaction.

He mentally fistbumped himself after hearing your thankfulness for his perfect cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?” His hands were neatly folded in front of him, attentive and genuine.

“I think I went brain dead for a while. I forgot how comfortable our mattress is.” You say without noticing you called it our mattress, but Kylians heart pitter-patters inside of his chest at the slip of the tongue. He watches you as you take the first bite out of the bagel sandwich. “My god…” You grumble with a mouth full of the food, chewing every bit with your eyes closed. “This has to be from Tatianos.”

Titianos was the bagel shop just a block down from this home, a shop you two would frequently walk to together when the busy streets looked calmer than usual. “Of course.”

“And the flowers?” You poke, pointing to the daffodils placed between the two of you.

His face cringed slightly. “Too much?”

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head and shrugging. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Oh.” He blushed, biting his cheek in efforts to not look like a doofus. “Sweet, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You tease, playfully tossing a piece of your bacon at him, which he caught and ate happily. It was scary how comfortable you felt around him on this strange morning, especially since you had only the vaguest memories that flash in and out of your head. “So, last night… what happened exactly?”

“Between us? Nothing, if that’s what you’re asking.” He confirms. “You called me super drunk at like 3:30 and said you were alone, so I went looking for you. You didn’t know your address and your phone was dead, so I brought you back here.”

You nod along, remembering some hazy moments as he reminded you. “Did you make me waffles last night?” You ask once the recollection of something crispy and delicious popped into your head.

“You remember waffles before you remember hitting on me?” He baits, quirking an eyebrow.

Oh, god. You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Did I really?” You whisper, peeking an eye through the space in your fingers. Kylian laughed, nodding in confirmation. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kylian.”

“Don’t be sorry. You can flirt with me whenever you want.” He beamed, pushing the idea of holding your hand so he could see your face to the back of his mind.

“No, I just mean…” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I really appreciate how respectful you’ve been with not pushing my boundaries since the breakup, and me flirting with you probably didn’t help you.”

He shakes his head. “Seriously, don’t be sorry. I can handle it.” He assures, a sly grin forming in his features. “I know I’m irresistible. It’s been a struggle my whole life.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at the goofy side of Kylian, missing his overly confident commentary. “Well, then… I’m sorry about telling you about me and Haaland last time I saw you… I would have kept it to myself if I knew that it would affect you on the pitch–”

“–You don’t need to apologize to me for anything, (Y/N).” He established, looking you in the eye. You stared back, lost in the deep brown of his eyes, reeling you in with how warm you he made you feel with just some simple eye contact. Kylian cleared his throat, he himself feeling exceptionally vulnerable. “So, I was thinking…” He stopped, gulping and toying with a napkin sheepishly. “Maybe, only if you're ready… would you like to go on a second first date with me?” The words came out slowly as Kylian subtly shrinks into his seat, looking up, then looking away.

You pause and you swear you are able to hear the thump of his heartbeat from across the table. If you were ready to go back to him or not really was a coin toss. It’s only been two months, but in those two months, you have seen the change that Kylians made in effort to get you back. You never stopped loving him, never. And he certainty has shown you that he never stopped either.

“When?” You speak up, catching his wide eyes.

“Whenever you’re free.” He breathes out. You give him a look as if to scold him for not taking charge – a hint he understands instantly. “Tonight.”

You gulp down the last of your coffee, wiping your mouth with a napkin. Unashamedly, you enjoyed the power of making him sweat, tapping your finger pensivly on the wooden table. It provides some weird satisfaction after you hurt for so long. It sounds bad but it’s not something you can help. You hint at a grin, tilting your head to the side. “Okay.”

Kylians lungs deflated in relief, not being able to hold back a goofy and wide smile, wishing he could celebrate this moment as if he just scored a last minute goal in the world cup. “That’s great!”

“Nothing too over the top, though, alright?” You request, feeling your cheeks wanting to dimple upon seeing the happiness radiating from the man in front of you, but needing to keep your composure more.

“I promise.”

“Good.” You leave it there, taking a couple more bites of the sandwich until you were too full to continue.

Kylians smile was like it was tattooed, eyes glimmering. You gave him a weird stare, wiping your mouth. “What? Do I have something on my face, or…?”

He shakes his head, laughing off the question while looking down. “No, no. Sorry.”

You knew he was just happy about finally getting you on a date. Honestly, so we’re you. Obviously it was a bitter sweet thing. The feeling of missing Kylian was like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life. Not even when you’ve broken up with your past partners has it felt this empty, this lonely. You hoped it wasn’t just the hangover sabotaging you into feeling a little extra needy… but you needed him. You really did.

Even while you gathered your things together, you were feeling apprehensive over going back to your new place, wanting nothing more than to sink into your spot on the couch in Kylian’s living room — the spot that you fall into so perfectly after years of claiming it as yours.

Though Kylian offered to take you home, you insisted on just Ubering (which he insisted he pay for). It’s difficult to find a way to say goodbye to him as you found yourself in a position you've been in before, hating the pit in your stomach as you stood in the familiar spot by the front door, ready to leave. Facing Kylian as he watched you go put a bad taste in your mouth, reminded you of your birthday. Reminded you of the most painful night of your life.

He sensed that you two were on the same page, shuffling uncomfortably in his place. “So…” He filled the silence.

“Um, I’ll just meet you here?”

“Yeah, that works.” He nods. “6:30?”

“Okay. 6:30. I’ll see you later, I guess.” You let out a dry and awkward laugh as you opened the door. Kylian watched your every move with the worst case of deja vu turning his stomach over and over, having to look away. Your feet stopped you from walking to the Uber waiting for you, turning around. “Kylian.” He instantly met your eyes. “Um... Thank you.”

Kylian froze, engrossed in the genuine way that your words came out. They felt heavy, meaningful. He wanted to tell you he’d do anything for you, that you didn’t need to ever thank him because he just loves you; but the door shuts behind you before even a sound could escape his lips.

It was like the air went stale the second you walked out the door, he physically felt how much he missed you already. But he knew he’d see you in just a few hours, and he had some prepping to do.

Your new apartment wasn’t exactly… nice. Or safe. Or spacious. Or free of roaches. The handle of your door always got stuck and you were left foolishly jiggling it until it gave way. Your asshole of a landlord has yet to respond to your multiple texts about it, much less anything else you’ve filed complaints about in the short time you’ve occupied this space.

The water pressure was shit, but the boiling stream that relaxed your muscles felt like heaven, anyway. It washed away the thick layer of the Sunday-scaries that weighed you down on this strange day. Shower thoughts overtook your brain, and you got to thinking about Kylian.

The months of doubt he put you through were unbearable. You constantly felt like a burden in his life when all you wanted was to be there for him. The sleepless nights you spent pondering over where it all went wrong and nothing ever coming to mind… The anxiety of every argument or uncomfortable prolonged silences that left you confused and insecure… These moments weren't few and far between, but a steady new normal you'd convinced yourself would eventually get better. Those moments showed you what he was capable of turning into.

On the other hand, you knew the other side of Kylian. That side is the one you knew in your heart was the real him. He loved the fact he knew all your quirks, your routine, your favorite brand of cereal, your deepest worries. It was just easy with him, just like it should be. The compatibility was undeniable from the get-go. He was always so affectionate before, having to hold your hand in public or smack your ass in the kitchen or else he'd implode. He always reminded you how much you meant to him. That you were the love of his life. Kylian would say this with eyes that glimmered, confirming that his intentions were true. It's like whenever he spoke to you tenderly it went directly into your heart until it began beating just for him. You always thought dependency in that way was unhealthy... but you still found yourself to place Kylian in the category of necessity.

Living without him was a life you weren't sure was possible for you.

It was almost four o'clock when you got out of the shower and you had picked out a nice little casual outfit to wear. He better have kept his word about the 'nothing too over the top' promise because if he surprised you with tickets to the opera, you'd surly be denied entry in jeans and a tank-top, even with your nice leather jacket you purchased in Italy.

You were nervous. Of course you were nervous. This night could go horribly wrong. Maybe he'll show that he's still the Kylian you left two months ago. Maybe you'll spot signs to not go through with this. Maybe he'll forget about these plans altogether and leave you stranded once more on a night you expect him to be around for.

But, even worse... It could go wonderfully right. He could be a gentlemen and woo you. He could say the all right things and make your heart swell at his addictive laugh. That's scarier than any worst case scenario you could possibly come up with.

The time came to drive to Kylains apartment, and as you got closer, the familiarities of the roads brought you back to happier times. The way you avoided every pothole and recognized peculiarities you'd become accustomed to seeing every time you would go home felt like a heavy sentiment you didn't have time to explore before arriving at the large home. Before you knew it, you were kocking on the door, anxiously wiping your sweaty hands down the material of your jeans.

Through the window, you saw Kylian jogging to answer, abrupty opening the door with the biggest and most authentic smile you'd seen him exhibit in a while... including the months leading up to your separation.

"Bonjour." He quips, cloth towel tossed over his shoulder and the smell of something delicious had your mouth watering.

"Hi." You smiled back, stepping into the home as he stepped aside, allowing you to come in. "Are you cooking something?"

"Yeah. I thought we could have dinner here. I hope that's okay." He explained, wiping his hands.

His nerves were undeniable cute. "That's perfect." You begin walking toward the kitchen, setting your purse down and peeking at the simmering food on the stove. "What's on the menu for tonight?"

"Well, to start, french onion soup. Then we have coq au vin with caprese salad, and for desert, crème brûlée. Hope you're hungry."

"That sounds... amazing." The kitchen was messy, but you could tell he did some quick tidying up before you got here. Kylian never closed the cabinets, and you couldn't stop yourself from chuckling when you noticed every door was wide open. "So, you took up cooking, huh?" You say as you close the doors that hung from the hinges quickly before leaning over to sneak a peak at your dinner.

He shuffled around to stand next to you, stiring as an excuse to be close. "No, not really." He laughed. "I've been following a recipe and I've been on facetime with my mom the entire time."

You wanted to coo at him, your feelings of fondness bubbling like the sauce on the stove. "How is Fayza? Aw, I miss her." She was such an angel to you, always. You'd become so close to her, especially since you'd been living so far from your family for so long now. She truly made you feel like you were part of the family. You wished you'd called her or Wilfreid or Ethan after the break up, but it was just so painful.

"She's good. Dealing with some rabbits in her garden but... she misses you. Like, really misses you." He says the last part lowly. He didn't want to make you feel bad, it's just that his mother hadn't taken the break up very well. She was so excited for the wedding, to watch her son get married to the love of his life, to officially have you be a part of the family. It'd been years you'd spent Christmas with them perfecting a triple chocolate cookie recipe. Years of sitting with you in the stands of Kylians matches. Years of watching you be so good with her grandchildren, getting ahead of herself and thinking about obtaining a few more.

You couldn't say anything back, hearing the timer beep. Kylian put on your strawberry-patterned oven mitts and took out two ramekins from the oven.

"Wine?" He offered, picking up a bottle of red and topping off his own glass.

You shook away your distress about Fayza and the family, sucking in a sharp breath. Wine sounds amazing. "Please."

He poured you a glass, handing it to you and placing himself comfortably in front of you, tipping his own toward you. "Santé."

You clicked your glass together with his, taking a bigger sip than you probably would have in a normal situation. Kylian kept eye contact with you, but you looked away with a bashful chuckle. His eyes were too versed in the language of how to make you melt. Maybe wine wasn't a great idea.

Kylian lifted the lid on the large pot, stirring for a second before turning off the flame. "This looks about done... I hope."

You press your side to his, reaching over to grab a spoon and finding a carrot. You felt Kylain's stare, the warmth he provided with the minimal contact made you flustered. You bit into the perfectly seasoned vegetable, tender and buttery. "Mhm..." You muttered. "Damn, Ky. You should've been cooking for me years ago."

"Well, I'd be happy to be the chef in this relationship from now on." He said with a bold blush.

Relationship.

He heard it the second the word slipped from his mouth. You froze, blinking at Kylian who also seemed to stop all movement. "I'm sorry. I wasn't... I–I didn't mean to–"

"It's fine." You waved off, setting the spoon down and giving him a reassuring smile.

He nods apologetically, taking the spoon from your hand, purposefully brushing his fingers with yours and dipping it in the saucy dish. He hums at the taste. "Is there anything I can't do?"

You laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Shut up." He laughed along, loving the flow of the light banter... how it was before.

You sat at the table when he said he needs to plate the food, watching him scramble around the kitchen ungraciously, reopening every cabinet door and leaving it that way. He made quick time, balancing two soups and a basket of buttered baguette slices.

"You ready?" He nodded toward the patio door, opening it expertly with his elbow.

"Um... are we not eating at the table?" You question, confused but getting up anyway, grabbing both your glass and his, seeing as his hands are full.

He holds the door open for you, grin tattooed on his face as he see's your eyes light up at the setting he's created on the patio. The outdoor dining gazebo was decorated with strung up lights, candles lined up in the center of the table. There was a pattered tablecloth covering the hardwood with two chairs facing each other, the warm light created a sense of romance and intimacy. The sweet gesture showed how much effort he put into this simple date.

"You did all this for me?"

"Of course." He chimed, placing the small bowls of soup and bread down. You watched tenderly as he pulled out the chair facing the beautiful view that overlooked the gorgeous city, the sun had just started it’s descent into the horizon, painting the sky with hints of orange and pink. Your smile was flirtatious as you sat down and he tucked your chair in, taking the opportunity to be close to you.

This was always your favorite place to watch the sunset. You missed that view, your eye never leaving the skyline as you sat with a bashful blush. Your apartment now faced the brick wall of the building next to you. The closest thing to a view you get now is your neighbors golden retriever barking at the cyclists that ride by.

He sits across from you, placing a napkin on his lap. "Bon appétit."

He watches intently as you spoon your first bite, getting a bit of everything. "It's good?" He asks impatiently, trying it himself.

"Mother of god, Kylian. What the hell. It's delicious." You say approvingly. He gets a big head easily, so usually you kept your compliments subdued to avoid him becoming competitive with you in every aspect of your lives, but that soup brought you somewhere else.

The sun was setting slowly, as if the sky was begging you to appreciate this beautiful moment, savor it as long as possible. Halfway through the main course, the sun broke through the clouds that had occupied the heavens all day long. You audibly gasped at the phenomenon, feeling the golden sun warm your face, squinting slightly as you tried your best not to look directly at it.

“Oh, wow… Kylian. Look at the sky.”

He didn’t want to. The way the light illuminated your features, it was like he was seeing you in the highest definition. You might as well have had a filter on, because to him, you look supernaturally perfect. The slight breeze tussling your hair, the way your irises saturated in color with the suns natural light, the shadow just above your cupids bow drawing his attention to your undeniable lips… his heart grew in size, swelling and beating just for you. He was happy you were here. Happy he didn’t just give up on you. He wanted this feeling forever.

He stood up, reaching his hand out to you from across the table. You took it willingly, letting him lead you to the large patch of grass just a few yards from where you ate.

With your eyes hypnotized by the swirling clouds of colors, you sat on the slightly overgrown greenery, feeling the cold blades tickle between your fingers. Kylian sat with you, pinky finger brushing yours, enjoying the natural silence that was drowned out by ambiance. Birds chirping, tree branches rustling, your soft breathing, and his heart pattering.

He did his best to keep his eyes forward, wanting to enjoy the same sky as you were, but your beauty trumped even the most beautiful of sights. You were so mesmerized you didn’t even notice the way he gazed at you, feeling himself fall deeper in love, knowing that might cause him more troubles but found nothing inside of him that cared.

“It’s incredible.” You murmured. It really was the most fantastic sunset you’ve seen. One of those that sucks you in, the subtle changes overtime darkening the sky until you can spot the stars. You miss it when it’s ending, knowing you’ll only get a couple more minutes of this view.

As he looked up and around, Kylian suddenly felt the weight of your head resting on his shoulder, stiffening for a second before relaxing his tense muscles to allow himself to enjoy the contact. Minimal, intimate, familiar… the simplest things about you were always his favorite. His head lulled until his cheek hit the top of your head, remembering the sweet coconutty scent of your shampoo. Everything about that moment was nostalgic… perfect. Absolutely perfect.

When the moons shift began, you thought about lifting your head, but the comfort of having him back forced you to stay. You scooted closer, initiating him to do the same. Cautiously, he moved an arm behind your back, allowing you to rest against him almost completely. You melted into the gesture, relishing in every ounce of this moment in time.

“Kylian…” You whispered.

“Yes, bébé.” The nickname rolled off his tongue as if the word was created for only you.

You hesitated, focusing your eyes on the waning moon. “I don’t wanna regret this.”

Kylian felt your worry in his own chest, bringing his arm around yours, pulling you into him more. You let him hold you, you let the heat of him overtake your senses, your brain, your emotions. The feeling of his lips pressing to your temple was fleeting, but the aftershock sent waves from the spot, forcing your eyes to close in contentment.

He dipped his head slightly lower to speak to you, to whisper to you. There was no one around, no one to listen into the words he was going to say, but they were meant for only the woman he adores. Even the wind was a threat, not wanting them to get lost and blown away. “I could spend my whole life searching for someone else, but my heart will only ever be yours. You are irreplaceable, mon amour.” He hugged you tighter. “I’ll never make you wonder again. I promise.”

Your body turned, your head dipped into his chest, and suddenly, you were engulfed in him — both arms securing your body inside of his. You allowed yourself to fill your lungs with his aroma, something ineffable coursing through your body. It was like a switch flipped and your heart just knew that this was right. This was it.

Kylian felt it to. Fireworks burst inside his chest and the feeling was so overwhelming he worried he’d become embarrassingly emotional. Holding you again felt like home, like the stars aligned, like everything was suddenly okay again.

The pair of you sat there for a while, Kylian thumb brushed against your arm soothingly, once in a while clutching you. It was like he was scared you’d slip right out of his arms, like he’d wake up any second now and realize you were never there at all… but you were. Your nuzzled face in his neck fit like the last bit of a puzzle. The serenity that stood still against the breeze was just pure confirmation that you belonged together. That this relationship could be mended, healed, saved.

“Thank you for not giving up on us.” He placed the words carefully on the top of your head, this side of the world now dark, colder, but he’d never felt warmer in his life. The affection radiated and kept him cozy against you.

You look up at him, and even though you’d had a peek at the stars scattered behind the evening clouds, they were all held in his eyes. He was yours. He was yours.

You wanted to say so many things, but found yourself leaning forward instead, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. The pull was just as natural as gravity, just as logical as a magnet. Kylian’s heart thumped so viciously against his rib cage. So much so that you felt it against your own — pressed deliciously against him, knocking the air out from your lungs.

Your lips had yet to touch, finding that you needed time to soak in every movement and breath that radiated from your bodies. You closed your eyes as his nose touched yours, his slow actions coming to conclusion as your lips finally met again, molding into the most intimate kiss you’d ever shared. You were sure of it.

You exhaled together, feeling lighter and more alive. You’d shared millions of smooches, pecks, make outs… you’d seen each other completely naked, explored your bodies like knowing every inch was a life or death matter… but none of it has ever felt this exposed. This was vulnerability at its finest. You’d never felt such a rush of emotion like this. It was electric but calming. An indescribable wave of raw emotions and needs.

You deepened the kiss slightly, shifting so he could lay you down. Kylian hovered over you, lips never leaving yours, wanting to make up for lost time. You tasted better than he remembered. You felt softer than you ever had. He couldn’t hold you closer if he tried.

His hand gently soothed your cheek in a romantic gesture, moving his lips against yours as if they’d planned and practiced for this moment. You put your hand in his cheek, pulling away but not being able to regain control of your closed eyes, the happiness threatening to spill out of you like a sink overflowing.

He touched his forehead to yours, nothing to stop him from placing a meaningful last peck on your puffy lips. His thumb continued to smooth your hairline and a genuine smile was tenderly illuminating his face, the tiniest shadow forming from the candles still burning near your unfinished dinner.

He couldn’t stop the fondness that was about to come out of his mouth, words forming against his will. “Je t'aime tellement. Tellement.” I love you so much. So, so much.

His eyes already told you everything, you didn’t need the verbal confirmation to understand how true those words were, how much he really meant them.

“You don’t need to say it back right now.” He murmured, still flickering down to your lips every other second, missing the feeling of them already. “And that’s okay. I’ll love you forever. I have time to prove it.” He pecked you once more.

Your hand wrapped around to the back of his head and you scratched the nape of it, instantly feeling the goosebumps rise out onto his skin. It made you giggle, sending Kylian to do the same by proxy. “I know.”

You pulled him down and give him one last meaningful kiss. He didn’t want it to end, but you stood up from under him, on your feet as you looked down at the man who just wanted to look at you.

He mentally took a photograph of you and how you looked at this very moment. The moon shining behind you against the faint stars. He wished he could frame this moment in time and keep it in his wallet, show you off to anyone he’d come across.

You reached a hand down. “I believe I was promised crème brûlée?”

He took your hand, but just held it, tracing his thumb over your knuckles. Slowly he sat up so he could kiss each one of them and you found yourself giddy, excited for the sequel of a novel you thought had a finite ending.

How reliving to know there was more to come. How relieving to know there was a future with this man — your wonderful Kylian Mbappé.

A/N: Okay okay okay OKAY you guys... I'm happy with this "ending" :). That being said, I will write an epilogue bc I know I love knowing what happens way after, besides I already have so many cute little ideas for it.

Thank you guys so much for reading this fic, it's the first multi-part fanfiction I've ever written (yes, even in my One Direction phase), so it means so much to me that it had such an overwhelmingly positive response. If I could kiss every single one of you on the lips, I so would. MUAH. MUAH. MUUUAAAHHH!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @http-isabela

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surrogate-fawn · 7 months

Text

The Purple Butterfly

((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory of a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's second surrogacy.))

{This drabble is Part 3 in a series of drabbles based on the story Mitty and I co-authored. This story will not make sense without reading the ones that come before it.}

[ Part 1 - The First Goodbye ]

[ Part 2 - Quartz and Sea Glass ]

[ Part 3 - Here! ]

Author's Note: A real-world initiative is mentioned in this story called The Purple Butterfly Project.

TW: Miscarriage, infertility, mentions of cancer, mentions of past abuse, pregnancy complications, past stillbirth/infant loss, grief and heavy emotional trauma.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living with the Tariqs, I got to experience what it was like to be around a baby after it was born -- and every pounding headache that came with it.

Suri was a little spitfire as soon as she hit the atmosphere, and if she was unhappy the whole house would know it. The farmhouse wasn't all that big, and the guest room where I slept ended up sharing a wall with the nursery. So, you can bet I got woken up each time her parents did.

Those first couple nights, I would lay there in bed until Ray or Tess could stumble their way down the hall and quiet things down. Yeah, I wasn't very useful. I didn't have much of a choice, though. It was a miracle I could walk myself to the bathroom with how sore I was after Suri squirmed her way out of me.

It wasn't just soreness from the waist-down, either.

Being around a constantly crying newborn had an . . . unexpected effect on my body. After the birth of my son, aside from a little bit of colostrum, I had never produced breastmilk. I guess hearing Suri cry to be fed every few hours triggered something, because I suddenly had a full milk supply with nowhere to go.

Luckily, the Tariqs had a home remedy for everything. A couple of wet washcloths over upturned bowls in the freezer made some conveniently-shaped ice packs. Without those puppies, it felt like my breasts were filled with molten lead. So, my hands were occupied most of the day.

I felt guilty, watching either Ray or Tess get up from the couch to tend to their daughter while I was able to sit there with my hands on my boobs and continue watching TV.

I wasn't Suri's parent, but the fact I was the one who got her there made me feel like I had to help out.

Once I started to recover, that's exactly what I did. On a night when Suri refused to stop crying, I got up and poked my head through the cracked nursery door.

Tess was there, looking exhausted and defeated as she held Suri on her shoulder. That baby had been screaming in her ear for at least half an hour. She jumped when she turned and saw me in the doorway.

"Hi, Tess," I said with a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, doll," Tess sighed, continuing to bounce Suri up and down while she paced the room. She spoke a little louder than she needed to, likely 'cause she couldn't hear herself think. "I'm sorry she woke 'ya. I got no idea what 'ta do."

She sounded like she'd given up. This was how she was spending her night, and she'd resigned herself to it.

I thought about waking Ray, but his paternity leave ended in the morning. He had to be up in a few hours for his civil engineering job. Even with what little I knew about salary work, I knew eight weeks of unpaid leave for a brand-new baby was bullshit. Ray would've taken the full twelve weeks, but the city was jumping down his throat about finishing the blueprints for an overpass project on-time. Tess was about to be left alone with a two-month-old for the sake of ten fewer minutes of traffic. That wasn't fair.

"Tess, lemmie take her for a while," I said, walking into the room. "You need a break."

"It's fine," Tess insisted. "She'll calm down . . . eventually."

I held out my arms. "Tess. Give 'er."

The purple bags under Tess's eyes made her look twice her age, and her pale yellow hair was a rat's nest hanging down her back. She was at her wit's end. "Okay."

Suri weighed almost nothing as I settled her against my shoulder. It still amazed me how small babies were. They seemed so much smaller when you actually got to hold them.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked Suri. My ear started to ring as she wailed into it, her cries high-pitched and distressed. I started patting her back like I'd seen her parents do. "What's wrong, baby girl? What's got you so upset?"

Tess collapsed into the glider in the corner of the nursery, her hands rubbing circles into her temples. "I've changed her. I've fed her. I've prayed over her. I've got no idea what my own baby needs!"

"Well, I've got no idea, either," I shrugged, my toes digging into the soft sherpa rug by the crib. I continued patting Suri's back. Her feet were pressing against my chest, as if she were trying to pull herself upright.

"But I'm supposed 'ta know!" Tess whimpered. She ran her fingers through the knots in her hair. "I'm her mama! Mamas are supposed 'ta know what 'ta do, but I can't even calm her down!"

"You're not a bad mama, Tess," I said, offering her a smile -- despite the continued screaming in my ear. "Trust me, I know what a-."

The screaming was cut short with a small 'gurk', and I froze when a wet glob of spit-up slithered down my back.

". . . think I figured it out . . ." I said, my smile now pinched.

Suri grumbled, and I carefully held her out in front of me. Her face was still red, but her expression was pure baby bliss -- milky spittle on her chin and all.

"Did you have a tummy ache, baby girl?" I asked. "Is that what was wrong?"

Tess shot up from the glider, sending it bumping into the wall. "Oh, Fawn, I am so sorry!" she said, taking her daughter out of my hands. She took the burp cloth off her shoulder, as if suddenly remembering it was there, and handed it to me. "Here, clean 'yaself up."

"S'alright," I chuckled, cringing as I wiped up the gobby mess. "I've got other shirts. At least I got her to stop crying."

Tess looked down at the baby in the crook of her arm, and then back up at me. "Wanna try a hand at gettin' her 'ta sleep?"

Long story short, that's how I found my new job as the Tariq's live-in babysitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wasn't expecting to do surrogacy again, at least not for a long while. The Tariqs were paying me a decent wage for domestic work and were kind enough to not charge me rent -- so long as I was saving a certain amount of the money each week. The last post I ever made on the surrogate agency's forums was an announcement celebrating Suri's successful home birth. After that, I let my profile go dark.

Not only did hiring me allow the Tariqs to keep their promise of helping me on my feet, it also gave them an extra set of hands around the house while Ray was at work. Tess and I worked out a system where I would work on smaller tasks while she took care of the most pressing matters. If she was feeding Suri, I was cleaning the kitchen. If she was cooking dinner, I was changing a diaper. If she had to do yardwork, I was keeping Suri entertained.

I learned to prepare formula, wash bottles, change diapers, and play peek-a-boo like a pro in no time.

Bath time was always a tag-team effort, though. Suri was a splasher, and her favorite bath toy was a rubber turtle called "Squirta Turta", so we usually ended up as soaked as she was.

When Suri was being weaned off formula, we made homemade baby food with the vegetables in the garden. Turns out, placenta makes a great fertilizer. I wondered if Mom had ever used it in her flower beds -- she'd had five of them to work with by the time all of us kids were born. I wished I could ask her. I wished I could ask her about a lot of things. I also wished Suri could eat her mashed squash without trying to wear the bowl as a hat, but I didn't get that wish, either.

This was my life for two wonderfully chaos-filled years, and I was mostly content with it.

Mostly.

I wanted to go to college. That was always my plan for after high school, but . . . plans had obviously changed. My grades hadn't been anything to brag about, so I knew from the start I'd have to pay my own way through. I had two years' worth of savings, but I didn't want to dip into it, yet. That money was meant to be the down payment on a house someday. What would be the point of spending all my money on school if I'd be right back to square one afterward? That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to get my degree and start my life over -- I'd been waiting long enough.

After sitting down with Ray and breaking down the costs of school, I realized I barely had enough to pay for one term. There were some small scholarships I could apply for here and there, but I wasn't about to rely on winning them. There were hundreds of smarter students out there vying for the same pile of money. What chance did I have?

I mulled it over for several days without saying a word to anyone, but eventually I made up my mind. When I did, Tess was the first person I told:

"I'm gonna get pregnant again."

I announced it out of the blue as I was helping Tess with the after-dinner dishes. She was at the kitchen sink, washing. I was at the counter, drying.

The steel wool in her hand scraped to a halt. "Pardon?"

I hunched my shoulders a bit as I toweled off a plate. "I'm gonna find another couple that needs to 'rent a room'. It'll be able to pay for my degree. In full. All four years."

Tess continued washing, but she didn't acknowledge what I'd said at all.

"So . . . what do you think?" I prodded, setting stacks of dishes in the cabinet.

Tess grimaced into the soapy water, concentrating way too much on the pan she was scrubbing. "Shug, I dunno," she said. "Do 'ya really wanna do that 'ta 'yaself so soon?"

"Whatd'ya mean 'so soon'?" I scoffed. "Suri's up toddling around the house. Isn't that when most moms get pregnant again?"

"'Ya ain't a mom, yet, Fawn," Tess said, her tone lovingly blunt -- the tone that can only be learned by disciplining a toddler.

I flinched a little, but I crossed my arms over my chest to hide it. All she'd done was state a fact, but it still bit.

"I'd like to be," I mumbled. I gazed out the kitchen window and saw Ray out in the backyard with Suri. He was blowing bubbles, and she was reaching up to grab them with high-pitched screams of laughter. She chased them as they swooped lower to the ground, and then stomped on them with her tiny flip-flops when they touched the grass. "Someday."

"I know, doll. That's why I'm concerned." Tess set the pan on the drying rack. "Pregnancies are risky. Wouldn't 'ya rather have as few of 'em as possible?"

"I've had two and they went just fine," I said with a shrug. "I'm young, Tess! Isn't now the best time to use what I got? I can charge more, now that I've got experience. No student debt and money left over to save for a house! Trade nine months in exchange for the rest of my life? How could I pass that up?!"

Tess didn't say anything for a long time, she just dunked a chili pot in the dishwater and started scrubbing. I stood there in uncomfortable silence until she said:

"School can wait, 'ya know."

"No, it can't!" I protested.

"Ray and I can pay what 'ya need for classes when we start tryin' again," Tess said. "What on Earth's the point?"

"Point is," I huffed, leaning my hip against the counter, arms still crossed over my chest, "I'm almost twenty-four and I've got nothin' to show for it!"

"Fawn, 'ya gotta think about-."

"I'll still be able to help you guys out, Tess," I added. "Don't worry about that."

"It's not us I'm worryin' about," was her deadpan response.

It was frustrating as hell, but I wasn't too angry at her. I knew why she wasn't a fan of the idea.

The three of us had recently discussed growing their family in the future. The Tariqs wanted to wait until Suri was a little more independent before welcoming a second baby, so that plan was at least two more years out.

Following that conversation, we'd decided not to return to the surrogate agency we used the first time. The agency was helpful with the fine print and legal stuff, but the Tariqs had not been too thrilled to learn that a desperate, homeless, childless young woman had been allowed to become a surrogate of theirs.

"I can do it independently," I said, pleading my case. "I know how to be careful."

Tess turned to lock eyes with me. "Fawn . . . I just need 'ta know you're doin' it for the right reasons. I don't like the idea of 'ya going through all that for nothing but a stack'a cash."

"It's not just for money" I insisted. "I wouldn't go through it again for anyone, not even you guys, if I didn't find it meaningful."

Tess didn't seem any more at ease with my promises. "I just don't want 'ya health 'ta suffer. If 'ya do this, you're choosin' 'ta put 'ya body through a lot in such a short time."

I didn't argue. She was right. "I know."

Tess turned back to the sink, sighing while she rinsed out the pot. My toes curled inside my shoes.

"I want to help another couple while I still have the chance," I said, trying to justify my decision -- partially to myself. I could sense how strong Tess's disapproval was, and it was giving me serious second thoughts. "If I can't be a parent right now, I want to make it possible for other people to be parents. It makes the wait feel . . . less long."

Tess dried her hands on her long bohemian skirt and turned to gently hold my shoulders. "Doll, it's 'ya own choice. Ray and I can't stop 'ya from doin' whatever it is 'ya wanna do."

I nodded, my eyes cast down. I didn't need their permission, nor had I been asking for it, but some support would've been -- .

"Just know that we'll be here 'ta help 'ya," Tess continued. "Anything 'ya need, just ask. If you're gonna do this, I want 'ya as healthy and happy as possible."

I nodded again, this time with a smile on my face. "I'd appreciate that."

Tess wrapped me in a hug. "But please, shug," she added, patting my back, "don't put 'yaself through too much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Easy there, doll. I've got'cha."

Tess held my curls back as I wretched into a blue emesis bag. I'd started growing my hair out in the months it took for this surrogacy to be arranged. I hadn't been thinking ahead.

I'd thought I was in the clear after I had to have Tess pull over on the highway so I could vomit up breakfast, but the antiseptic smell of the hospital kicked up my nausea again. I'd made it through the halls, but by the time I'd sat on the exam table my stomach had enough.

I choked on thick saliva and spit a mouthful of colorless bile into the bag. "Okay . . . okay, I'm good now," I spluttered as I lifted my head. I cinched the bag and handed it to the technician without looking them in the eye. "Sorry."

"Don't be," the tech laughed, "morning sickness is par for the course in here. I'll be right back, just make yourself comfortable." They dragged the privacy curtain closed behind them as they left the room.

Tess wet a paper towel in the hand sink for me. My skin was clammy and cold even before I wiped the towel across my face -- so I wasn't left feeling any better. My hands had a tremor so deep inside the tendons it registered as numbness. I raked my front teeth over my tongue to scrape away the acidic taste.

I hadn't really needed that blood test. I'd known the IVF had worked when I woke up clinging for dear life against the Earth's rotation. My head hadn't stopped spinning since, and it was two damn weeks later. The doctor overseeing my IVF had sent me in for a six-week ultrasound -- which was earlier than I'd ever had one done before -- because my hormone levels were "suspiciously high" this time around. Whatever that meant.

I'd been pumped full of fertility drugs like a chicken with GMOs for a solid four months by that point. No shit my hormones were off the charts, especially now that I was pregnant.

"It's never been this bad," I groaned, coughing on the burn in my throat.

"Yeah, that's why the doctor wants 'ya in here," Tess said with a chuckle.

"I hate it," I scowled. "I want the old morning sickness back."

"Each time is different," Tess said. "I had it once or twice before, but when I was pregnant with Ravi it never really went away." Any time Tess mentioned her angel baby, a little bit of the light left her eyes -- and I saw it happen again right there in that ultrasound room.

Tess helped me pull off my jeans and tucked my discarded underwear inside the back pocket for me. I covered my hips with the paper blanket just before the tech came back into the room.

"Looks like we're ready to start!" they chirped, taking their seat between me and the rolling ultrasound cart.

"Hang on a sec," I said, pulling up the FaceTime app on my phone. "The parents really wanna see the first ultrasound."

"Ah," the tech said with an understanding nod, "is this a surrogate situation?"

"My second time," I said with a proud grin. I pointed at Tess, who was folding my pants over the back of a chair. "I carried her baby first. Most amazing thing I've ever done."

Tess beamed at me. She was smiling, but the shadows on her face were a bit deeper than normal.

"Really now!" The tech exclaimed, keeping their peppy tone as they typed my info into the computer. "It's rare I see surrogate mothers as young as you. Bless your heart!"

"She's a trooper, that's for damn sure," Tess said, "but, God love 'er, she's been so sick."

"I'm sure your care provider can prescribe something for that at your follow-up ," the tech told me. "It won't feel this bad for much longer, sweetheart."

"It's worth it, though," I said. My phone bubbled with the ringtone of an outgoing video call. "These guys will be amazing dads."

The tech smiled at me. "I have such respect for traditional surrogates. That's a lot of sacrifice."

"Oh, no," I corrected them with a small hand wave. "This isn't traditional. These are the bio parents."

I hadn't willy-nilly accepted the first eager couple I'd found online. I'd put half a year's worth of thought into carrying this pregnancy. The Tariqs always gave me my birthday off, and I'd spent that entire day talking to prospective parents. I wanted to prove to them that I was taking this seriously; if I was doing this just for the money, I wouldn't have cared whose baby I carried. I wanted to vet my options and choose a couple that I well and truly felt honored in helping -- and the Gillespies were exactly that.

My phone screen flashed with a mixture of bright pixels before the video came into focus. An odd pair of men sat beside each other in what appeared to be either a kitchen or a dining room -- perhaps it served as both, they lived in a small condo. One was a tall, tanned athlete with a dark stubbly beard and a sculpted figure rippling beneath his loose-fitting tank top. That was Silas. The other was a willowy, ramen-haired man with thick blue octagon frames on his glasses and the quote, "It's only a passing thing, this shadow" from The Two Towers tattooed on his forearm. That was Owen.

"Hey, guys!" I said, holding my phone up and giving them a wave.

There was a slightly-too-long pause due to lag, but both guys lit up with smiles and greeted me in unison. I saw the tech looking at the screen from the corner of my eye. I could see the math trying to play out in their head.

"You don't mind if we record this, right?" Silas asked. They must've been watching from a tablet, because he reached his finger under the camera and swiped a few times as if he were checking a separate app. As he lifted his arm, a crescent of silvery scar tissue became visible from under his shirt.

I saw the tech look back to their computer with a subtle nod of their head. God love 'em, they must've been too nervous to ask.

"Go ahead! It's a special occasion," I said. "I'm gonna hand you over to Tess. We're about to start."

"Yay, Tess!" Owen said with a clap of excitement. He waved as I passed my phone over. "Hi, Tess! Where's Ray?"

"Hi, boys," Tess said with a soft grin. She adjusted herself to be closer to my side. "Ray's workin' from home today so he can watch our 'lil darlin'."

Of course the Tariqs had wanted to meet my new clients. They said it was because they wanted to vouch for me as a caring and capable surrogate; but I think it was mostly to judge the couple for themselves. The Gillespies had both Tess and Ray's number as my emergency contacts, which came in handy when they needed help with some legal paperwork.

Silas and Owen were my age, both of them twenty-four. They'd poured all their savings into the process of hiring a surrogate and had none left over for a lawyer. At the Tariq's behest, all three of us had stayed up late on a call to talk the Gillespies through the steps of writing a surrogacy contract. Silas and Owen seemed to hold a lot of respect for the Tariqs after that.

While Tess had the camera on her, I reclined on the table and put my feet in the stirrups. The paper blanket gave plenty of privacy -- which was good, because I didn't want my clients to see the long plastic wand the tech was prepping while it was in there doin' its thing. I'd never had a transvaginal ultrasound before, but apparently it was the only way to get a view of the Gillespies' baby so early.

I couldn't help but tense as I felt the rounded tip of the wand slip inside me like butter, aided by the warm jelly I was used to having on my belly. I could feel the blood flooding my face as the curved device slid under my public bone and pressed against a part of my anatomy that hadn't been reached in years -- though not for lack of trying, I had short fingers.

"Relax a little more, please," the tech said.

"Sorry . . . not used to this."

Don't judge me. I was living with my employers. The idea of one of them finding an adult toy in my room -- or worse, their daughter finding it -- made me shrivel.

I felt a subtle buzz inside my tissues when the device turned on. I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Okay, let's have a look at that baby," the tech said as they began angling the wand.

Tess flipped the phone around so the dads could see the action. I saw Owen grip his husband's bicep and pull him closer. The room was silent for a moment while the technician moved the wand around my pelvis.

"Can we listen to the heartbeat?" Owen asked, hugging Silas's arm.

"Not yet," the tech said, eyes glued to the screen. "Their little heart is only a few cells big right now. It's too quiet to pick up, but we'll hear it in a few weeks."

Owen and Silas shared a grin. I could see their story written on their faces and in the way they looked at each other. They'd been dating since high school, the odd-ball pairing of bookworm and athlete. After graduation, a preemptive doctor's appointment before Silas started testosterone saved his life:

Cervical cancer, stage two. The doctors had no choice but to take everything, but Silas chose to freeze a few of his eggs before the surgery. He'd gotten into non-competitive bodybuilding to deal with the effects of chemo, and it'd been his favorite hobby since. Luckily, Silas had been cancer-free for years -- Owen had gotten his first and only tattoo in celebration.

Now that they were newlyweds, the Gillespies were choosing to start their family right away -- knowing the frozen eggs wouldn't last forever. We'd lost a lot of hope when most of the eggs didn't thaw right, meaning we only had one shot at this. The Gillespies were more than open to adoption, but . . . having a baby together was something they'd hoped for since before Silas's diagnosis.

I'd known I wanted to step up to the plate as soon as I heard their story. I was proud to be helping such a sweet pair of guys have their much-wanted family. When I saw the way they looked at each other in that moment -- the excitement and love of a dream finally coming true -- I secretly hoped doing this for them would grant me some sort of karmatic favor.

I hoped one day I'd share that same ecstatic smile with someone, for the same happy reason.

The tech hadn't said anything for a while. They kept moving the wand from side-to-side between my hips and squinting at the screen. They took several images, judging by how often they hit the same loud button on their keyboard. They hadn't even turned the screen around, yet. I couldn't wrap my head around the baby being so hard to find -- not with the ultrasound wand jammed so far up.

"Are they hiding from 'ya?" I asked with a joking lilt. Something was starting to sink inside my chest.

"No, I see them," the tech said. They squinted harder at the screen. "Just taking their picture for the doctor."

"That's a lot of pictures," Silas commented from my phone speaker.

"Well, I . . . just want to make sure," the tech said. Their keyboard clacked as they took another image.

It felt like I'd swallowed lead. "Sure of what?"

The tech finally tilted the screen so the rest of the room could see it. In the grey-and-white fuzz on the monitor, a round dark void was highlighted in a bright yellow square. Resting in the void was a blurry white bean with a small flutter in the curve of its shape.

"So, here's the gestational sac," the tech said, outlining the yellow square with their cursor. They circled the cursor over the fluttering movement. "That's baby's nice strong heartbeat right there."

"Silas, oh my god!" I heard Owen cry. "Look! We made that!"

The tech turned the wand slightly and the image on the screen rolled to the left. The same black void and white bean slid into view, except now it was upside-down. The tech once again circled their cursor around the flutter. "And this is another nice strong heartbeat."

"They have two hearts?!" I gasped in panic. I realized how stupid I sounded after it was too late. "Or is it . . . ?"

The tech flicked the wand from side-to-side, and each time they did a little black void with a bean remained on the screen. It took a few back-and-forths for me to realize those weren't two different angles of the same image.

"Holy shit . . ." I wheezed. My hand covered my throat, as if that would loosen the strangling tightness that was setting in. "Holy shit . . ."

“What? What’s wrong?” I heard Silas ask, his voice glitched and laggy.

“Boys, can ‘ya see?” Tess asked, holding my phone closer to the screen. “Can ‘ya see that?”

I wanted to turn my head and see the parents’ reaction, but I could not move my eyes from the ultrasound. The Gillespies were quiet for a minute as the tech continued to swivel the image from side-to-side.

“How many embryos did you transfer?” the tech asked.

“There were only two that made it,” Silas answered. I could sense the moment reality washed over him. “Wait . . . wait, are they both there?!”

“Yep,” Tess said. I have no idea what emotion was in her tone, but it had a glaze of forced excitement. “They both took root.”

“I can’t quite get an image of both of them,” the tech said. “I’m trying, but it looks like they’re on opposite walls of the uterus. That flipped one is way up there, too. They’re hanging onto the roof like a bat.”

“A bat bean,” Owen said. His voice was flat, like the quip was a reflex.

“So . . . twins, right?” Silas asked. “We’re having twins?”

“Congratulations!” the tech chirped.

My pulse was pounding under my hand. That lump of lead was sitting hard in my guts, right alongside those two tiny beans. Two. Two beans. Holy shit. Two.

Tess turned the phone towards me and I saw the moon-eyed shock on the Gillespies’ faces. “Fawn, honey?” Tess prodded. “Wanna say something? What’dya think?”

“I . . .” My saliva felt thick and hot in my mouth. My tongue fell numb and it nearly flopped down my throat as I shot up on the table, my legs still up in the stirrups. “I think I’m gonna be sick!”

Tess jumped for a trash can. She aimed the camera at her face while I loudly wretched in the background of my clients’ first family video.

“This explains a lot,” Tess told the fathers with a sheepish grin. “Two times the baby, two times the morning sickness.”

The Gillespeies were quiet for a while, an awkward pause with only the sounds of my suffering to fill the void.

“We’re having twins, Owen,” Silas finally said, just as I was pulling my face from the trash.

“Yeah . . . wow,” Owen’s voice answered.

I heard a subtle thumping from their end, like one of them was bouncing their leg. The tempo was frantic.

“What’s wrong, Owen?” Tess asked. She held the phone to be more level with her face.

All I heard was a harsh sniffle.

“C’mere, you big softie,” I heard Silas say.

“Don’t cry, honeybun,” Tess said. “It's a blessing!"

“I’m happy!” Owen insisted over the phone. “I’m so happy!” His voice was muffled, like he was hiding his face in his husband’s shoulder. “This is . . . whew! This is overwhelming!”

“No kidding,” Silas said with a laugh.

“No fucking kidding,” I said with my head in the trash.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days for the shock to wear off. The anti-nausea pills cleared my head so I felt less like I was walking in a fever dream. Once that edge was taken off, it made reality slip in a little smoother. I was pregnant with twins. There were two little jellybeans inside me that would be two full-sized babies in eight months. That was fine. Yeah, that was fine. That had to be fine. If it wasn’t fine, I was going to start losing my mind! So, it was fine.

I mailed the printouts of the ultrasounds to the parents. They had the digital pictures I took, but those physical copies were what really mattered to them. The three of us had never met in person. They lived hundreds of miles away, in Michigan. They wouldn’t be flying down to Tennessee until it was nearing my due date, so any physical memento of their babies I could send to them was much appreciated.

I wanted the Gillespies to feel included in my pregnancy as much as possible, even if they couldn’t be with me in-person. Each week I’d take a picture of myself turned sideways in the bathroom mirror and sent it to them. I basically sent them the same picture four times in a row. There was nothing much to show except for the tummy flab I’d collected my first two times around the block. By week ten, though, I could feel that familiar little lump starting to form below my navel. I had slightly too much of a pooch for there to be any trace of a bump, though.

Almost three months in, I was surprised by how normal my pregnancy was – aside from the intense bouts of nausea I relied on my medicine for. I’d thought having twins inside me would up the difficulty level, but up to that point my life had changed very little. I still got up every day to housekeep and nanny for my allotted shift, and I did so with the same ease I did before. The only change was how much of an eye Tess kept on me. It was very annoying.

“Fawn, no!” Tess trotted up beside me and took hold of my hips. “‘Ya don’t need ‘ta be up there.”

“Stop it!” I gasped as the stack of plates in my hand jittered. “Don’t grab me like that if you don’t want me to fall!”

Tess gently pulled me down from the stepstool I’d been using to reach the cabinet. “I can take care of those,” she said, taking the stack of dishes.

“Jesus, you’d think these were your babies,” I muttered.

“It’s easy now, doll, but you’re not far off from those little ‘uns hittin’ a growth spurt.” Tess climbed the stepstool and I rolled my eyes behind her back at the oh-so-dangerous foot and a half of height she stood above. “I can go ahead and take over the chores ‘ya need help with.”

I shrugged, lifting my hands and then letting them slap down onto my thighs. “Alright. Want me to take over Suri while you handle the dishes?”

“Yes, and I’ll be wiping down the countertops and stove with bleach. So, I don’t want either of ‘ya in here until I say so.”

“Right. Grabbing snacks.”

Arms full of Cheerios, applesauce pouches and beef jerky, I joined Surinder in the living room. She was watching one of her preschooler shows on TV from inside her pop-up play tent. Her toys were strewn all over the floor – the living room had become her territory and she marked it with Duplo blocks and miniature plastic food.

I bent over to start picking up and I grunted when the ligaments around my waist pulled tight. Tess was right about the babies, I hadn’t gotten round ligament pain so early before.

It wasn’t long before Suri crawled out of her tent and patted my leg to get my attention. “Fa! Fa!” she called my name until I turned around and acknowledged her.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Go! . . . Go potty!”

“You gotta go potty? Okay, let’s go-oh!” I winced as I stooped to pick her up, my hands flying to my sides. There was that ligament pain again. I rubbed my hands into my lower belly, trying to work out the tension in my stretching muscles. “Let’s walk to the potty.”

I kept feeling that growing pain. I got a charlie horse in my back as I was helping Suri in the bathroom. That nerve-deep pain flared up in a ring around my hips as I sat down for dinner, but a slight adjustment in my posture made it nothing more than an annoyance. I went to bed that night safe in the knowledge I would wake up to another day of normalcy.

I woke up to my alarm, bright and early as always. I woke up to that ring of pain around my hips as I stretched out under the covers. I woke up to the sensation of wet fabric, something sticky plastered against the curve of my rear and up my lower back. I woke up to blood, both crusty brown and damp red, on my pajamas and sheets.

I woke up wanting to scream. Instead, I tip-toed past Suri’s nursery and padded down the hall to her parents’ room. I knocked once before opening the door. I was like a child needing to be comforted from a nightmare, appearing in the Tariq’s doorway and softly whispering their names until they stirred.

“Ray? Tess?” I leaned a little harder against the doorframe as I watched their silhouettes sit up in bed. “Can one of you drive me?”

Tess yawned. “Where, doll?”

“The ER.”

With the yank of a chain, Ray’s bedside lamp clicked to life. I didn’t need to scream. Tess did it for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray held my hand while we waited in the emergency room. I’d cleaned up and changed clothes – Ray had lent me a pair of his sweatpants, just in case I bled through my pad. All that remained of my pregnancy was sealed in a sandwich box on my lap. Tess suggested I take the large clump of blood and tissue I’d found in my underwear with me for the doctor to look at, but I hated holding that box knowing someone’s lost dream was inside.

Tess hadn’t come to the hospital with us. She stayed at the house until her parents arrived to take Suri for the day and then met us in the waiting room. I sat between them, resting my head on Tess’s shoulder while both of them wrapped an arm around me. We waited like that for over an hour.

Most of that day is a scrambled signal in my memory. There was a lot of waiting. A lot of fluorescent lights and white-beige walls. We watched TV together in the room they put me in, but I don’t remember what we watched. Only one memory of that ER visit is clear:

A nurse came in and confirmed what we already knew. They’d found the stringy prototype of a placenta in the tissue I’d passed, along with one of the gestational sacs. That was concerning, though. One. They’d only found one of the twins. There was a possibility I needed surgery, so they had to go in and see what was left. The Tariqs weren’t allowed to follow me as I was wheeled down to radiology.

The ultrasound room was dark and warm, the only light coming from the idle monitor of the computer. It was easy to close my eyes and drift into a trance as the tech smeared gel over my lower belly. I’d been scheduled for my next ultrasound in two weeks. I didn’t think I could handle seeing how empty I was.

“Did everything clear?” I asked, resting my hands over my sternum. Even if I didn’t want to see it, I still wanted to know if they were gonna have to scrape me out.

“I can’t say for certain until the doctor has a chance to look at these,” the tech said. “I’m just here to take pictures.”

I wished this was the same tech from my first ultrasound. I could’ve used their friendliness.

“I stopped cramping a while ago,” I said, “so hopefully it’s over.”

The tech rolled the wand up from my groin and I felt it press on the solid lump in the front of my hips. They were pressing hard – trying to get a good image, I assume – but eased off as they moved the wand just below my navel.

“Ope, no. Wait,” the tech said, “there’s the other one. Gosh, that one is way up there.”

Bat Bean. That’s what the Gillespies and I had been calling Baby B. We’d been calling Baby A “Jellybean”. I wondered what their real names would’ve been. My throat closed up and I had to stop wondering.

“Oh . . . my . . .” the tech said, nearly in a whisper. Then, much louder: “Well, hello there, little guy!”

“What?” I asked, opening one eye in hesitation.

I saw their face in the light of the monitor, saw the crescent moon of a smile below their reflective glasses. “It’s kicking!”

“What?!”

My neck arched and suddenly I was staring at the high-def image of a grey gummy bear on the screen. Nubby limbs twitched as the oval-shaped body curled and uncurled, swimming around its bubble of fluid like a tiny fish. The bulbous head turned and I watched in utter amazement as Baby B’s whole body flipped over in a summersault.

The tech hit a key and a steady whop-whopa-whop-whopa played as a line of white peaks and valleys appeared below the image. “And we have a heartbeat!” they announced, all monotone gone from their demeanor.

I must’ve been in a state of shock, because my memory after that moment is almost entirely blank. I have a vague recollection of signing some paperwork and a surgeon standing over my bed, listing off possible side effects. I remember a needle going into my arm, and then my memory is a void.

My memory restarts at the point I woke up in the recovery ward. Please understand that before this point, I had never had any kind of knock-out juice. I’d never had surgery before. So, please don’t make fun of me when I admit that I woke up crying. My vision was blurry, my head was in a vice, my anti-nausea medication had worn off, and it felt like I had a cactus in my vagina.

I saw a silhouette at my bedside, a woman’s silhouette with a ponytail of dirty-blonde hair. For a second, I thought my mom had forgiven me – I thought that someone, somehow, had reached her. I thought she cared enough to be worried about me. I reached out to her, craving to feel her hold me again. I felt horrible. I wanted my Mama to make it all better.

“M-om?” I mewled, my mouth slow and dry.

I touched the woman’s arm, causing her to turn towards me. She wasn’t my mom – just a nurse who styled her hair the same way. “No, sorry. I’m not Mom,” she said softly. “She’s probably waiting for you outside.”

I knew she wasn’t. I felt more tears trail down my neck.

“Just lay back and try to wake up a little more,” the nurse told me, “then we’ll let your family come back and see you.”

I dipped in and out of a fugue state, gradually returning to reality as the drugs wore off. Although I couldn’t remember much before surgery, I was inately aware that my cervix had been sewn shut. There was no telling what had caused me to lose Baby A, but Baby B was still considered at-risk. Sealing the exit shut was the best bet to keep ‘em in there. The fact I was still pregnant at all after so much blood loss and cramping was miraculous. Just to be safe, they hooked my IV up to something that would stop my uterus from contracting.

When I was awake enough to feel hungry and ask for food, the Tariqs were allowed to come sit with me in my cubicle of curtains. Tess sat on the side of my bed while Ray tried to nap in his chair. It’d been nearly twelve hours since we arrived at the hospital and we were all exhausted. I barely had the energy to lift spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup to my mouth. After I’d gotten some broth and crackers down my throat, and Tess and I had run out of small talk, Tess leaned in and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered into my ear. “I know what you’re feelin’, and it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

They weren’t empty words – far from it. Tess had been where I was time, after time, after time. Only, for her, it was worse – those lost children were her own. Then . . . there had been Ravi. I didn’t want to imagine how his loss had felt. Well . . . perhaps I could make a light comparison, but I at least knew my son was alive and well somewhere. I wrapped my arms around Tess in return, blinking back tears.

“No, Tess,” I said, my face covered by her long flaxen hair. It smelled like her mint shampoo. “I’m sorry you went through this so many times.”

Tess held me tighter.

“Have you told them?” I asked.

“No. We wanted ‘ta hear what the doctor said first,” Tess said. “Everything’s lookin’ okay with the baby right now, but he wants ‘ya on bedrest.”

“Can you . . . please call them for me? I don’t want to hear them . . .”

“I will,” Tess said, patting my back. “I’ll go outside and let them know.”

“If they ask which one it was . . .” I sniffled and choked back a small sob. “. . . tell them we lost Jellybean.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I continued to send the Gillespies bumpdates every week. I never missed a single one. I continued mailing them printouts of their baby’s ultrasounds. We never talked or chatted about what happened, nor did we discuss medical updates about Bat Bean. For those, the Gillespies waited for either Ray or Tess to contact them. I didn’t want them to associate me – the woman carrying their one and only child – with talk of heartbreak and loss. I wanted Silas and Owen to be excited when they saw an email from me, not dread clicking on it. Ray and Tess stepped up to be the bearers of heavy news for us. My doctor had me going in for ultrasounds every two weeks, which meant a lot of baby pictures from me and a lot of medical updates from the Tariqs.

My stomach remained flat for quite a while, with just the slightest bump in my lower belly for weeks. But one morning, around fifteen weeks in, I swear I woke up looking like I’d swallowed a cantaloupe. I guess the baby had finally hit that growth spurt Tess had predicted.

His name was Milo Bennet Gillespie. Silas and Owen named him shortly after we discovered he was going to be a boy. Owen was a fan of classic books who worked at Barnes & Noble, so I had no doubt he was the one to choose the middle name. Sometimes we playfully referred to Milo as “Bat Bean”, but that nickname faded out in favor of his real name. I worried over him – a lot. I bought a home doppler online so I could check if his heart was beating. Whenever I noticed he hadn’t moved for a while, I would pull up my shirt and rub the doppler on my bump until I heard the whoosh of his pulse. The doctors kept saying everything was looking good with him, but I worried.

I was essentially given leave of my housekeeper duties until Milo was done cooking. The doctor wanted me off my feet, so I spent most of my days on the couch watching cartoons with Suri. She was observant enough to ask about my big belly in her two-word-sentence manner. Unsure how to explain the situation, I told her there was a small person living in my stomach and that his name was Milo. I even took her tiny hand and let her feel where Milo was wiggling around. She didn’t like that very much, it freaked her out and she ran to her mother. I didn’t want her to get excited for a baby that wouldn’t be coming home with me. That wouldn’t be fair to her . . . or to me.

It wasn’t the best experience, being pregnant without the baby’s parents there. When I was growing Suri, her parents were there with me at every doctor’s visit. They took me on day trips just for fun and to make sure I had enough to eat. They were able to put their hands on my belly to feel their daughter kick, and put their lips close to my skin so she could hear their voices. Milo didn’t have that. His daddies were hundreds of miles away. They’d never felt him squirm around, only I had. He’d never heard their voices close-up, just over the phone . . . maybe. The clearest voice he’d ever heard was mine . . . and my voice wasn’t going to follow him home.

Although I had the Tariqs there to support me and love me, I felt alone in my pregnancy. Milo was just a little visitor in the household – we had no toys or bedding or bottles for him, all of that was with his fathers. After he was born, no one would mention him – his future didn’t involve us at all. I was the closest thing to a mother Milo would ever have . . . and I wasn’t going to be a part of his life.

It was an experience I’d had before, with the last baby boy I’d held under my heart.

It took a toll. It really took a toll.

Before I knew it, I’d blown up big as a barn. I no longer had a lap when I sat down, my belly nearly reaching my knees. Milo was a big boy – the doctor estimated he was around nine pounds – and he was squishing all the fluid in my body into my lower half. My legs were hot and heavy and my feet were too swollen for my shoes, so I shuffled between the bathroom, kitchen and couch in flip-flops. God, I hated being on my feet. I spent my days either dicking around on my laptop – using my belly as a desk – or watching TV while sprawled out on the couch.

Surinder got really upset with me one day, when I refused to play tag with her. Ray and Tess were very mindful of how much Suri “bothered” me, but I never considered it bothersome. I loved Suri, she was practically my niece. I was sure to let her know that I wanted to play with her, but my “belly buddy” was making me too tired. I made up for it with lots of hugs and kisses, and I promised that once I was feeling better we’d play tag as much as she wanted.

As soon as I hit thirty-seven weeks, I was on high alert. I’d warned my doctor that I delivered before my due date at least once before, but he wanted to keep Milo in there until he was full-term. So, he refused to remove my stitches. As miserable as I was, I agreed. I wanted Milo to bulk up as much as he could, even if it added to my discomfort. If I could give Silas and Owen a perfect, healthy baby . . . maybe it would make up for what happened.

My body had failed one of their babies – and so help me God I was gonna force it to nurture the other! I was determined! I would make it to forty weeks!

Yet, I would not.

I pulled myself off the couch one afternoon to grab a snack and my knees almost folded. I leaned against the arm of the couch as a deep downward motion slid over my organs. My lungs were slowly relieved of their crushing burden and they eagerly filled to their maximum. I lifted the weight of my belly with one desperate hand because I had a blaring instinct about what was happening.

“Milo, don’t you dare!” I muttered under my breath.

Like a Duplo block clicking into place, Milo’s head slipped into my hips. My belly visibly dropped, I felt it shift to hit heavier in my hand. Almost immediately, I felt the baby’s heft sitting directly on my sutured cervix. I groaned and pressed my thighs together. The pain throbbed between my legs, sharper than I’d ever felt.

“Hey, Ray?” I called, knowing he was upstairs in his office.

“Yeah?” his distant voice rumbled through the ceiling.

“Can you bring me my phone?” I called. “I need to call the doctor.”

A few minutes later, Ray thumped down the creaky stairs with my cellphone. He paused when he saw me leaning over the back of the sofa, kneeling with my thighs apart. “You okay?” he asked, handing me my phone.

“I need to call the doctor and tell him I need my stitches out, like . . . tomorrow,” I said, unlocking the screen. “Milo’s in my hips, he’s not gonna wait another two weeks.”

Ray rubbed my lower back, scratching his goatee in thought. “Is he going to wait until tomorrow? You’ve been having cramps, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re irregular as hell,” I said, putting the phone up to my ear. “I’ll be in labor soon, but not that soon.”

I was wrong. I was so wrong. I was so horribly wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Silas? Hi. Yeah, it’s Ray.”

“Fuck! Oh, fuck!”

“We have a situation. Fawn’s having contractions and you boys need to get on a plane right now.” Ray ground his knuckles into my back while I wailed face-down on my bed.

I gripped a bag of frozen peach slices in a towel between my thighs. My arms hugged all my pillows to my chest beneath me, and I buried my head between them to yell my way through this latest contraction. My belly was squeezed into a perfect sphere, peeking out from under my shirt as it hung down to my mattress. The contractions were actually pretty mild, all things considered. They didn’t hurt that bad at all.

However! My body was forcing Milo down hard against my cervix. That pain was far, far worse than the contractions. His head was grinding against a closed exit, but the sheer force was spreading that exit open anyway. The baby was a battering ram and my cervix was a fortress door, splitting apart around its locks and bars with every slam.

“Fuck, I want these stitches out!” I cried into my pillows. “I want them out!”

“Yeah . . . yeah, you can get a refund on the tickets you already bought,” Ray continued on the phone, and on my back. “I’ll book a room for you, don’t worry about that. Just focus on getting here. Bring an overnight bag for each of you and some basics for the baby. I’ll pick you up from the airport, don’t bother with an Uber.”

Tess walked into the room, a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder and her hair thrown into a messy bun. “Everything’s in the car,” she said. Her hand squeezed my shoulder until my posture relaxed and I lifted my head from the pillows. “You ready to go have a baby, ‘shug?”

I nodded. Tess helped me to my feet and I waddled down to the car doubled over and holding my belly up. Even without a contraction, the pry and pull on the strings holding my cervix closed was constant. My seam was literally about to pop. I had to recline the passenger seat as far as it could go so I could somewhat lie on my side. My contractions were regular, but very far apart; so, thank god, I didn’t have to deal with any while cramped in the car.

My chest tightened when we pulled into the hospital parking lot. I knew I’d be having the baby here. I’d prepared for it, but thinking about it was so different from doing it. Because of the complications with this pregnancy, I had no choice but to deliver in the same maternity ward I’d walked into years ago. I . . . didn’t like thinking about what I went through in that ward.

Tess came around to my door to help haul me out, but I didn’t move. I stayed on my side, staring at the clouds hovering above the cars – they were painted with the summer sunset.

“‘Ya want me ‘ta get a wheelchair?” Tess asked, leaning on the open car door.

“Yeah,” I sighed, resting my cheek on my hand. “Tess, I don’t wanna go in there. I wanna do this at home.”

Tess looked over her shoulder, scanning the hundreds of windows looming ten stories over us. “Me neither,” she said, then turned and hustled toward the hospital entrance.

At eleven-thirty that night, I found myself sitting on a birthing ball in a stagnant delivery room. The only light was the yellow wall lamp mounted over my bed – anything brighter and my head would pound. A monitor belt was pulled snug around my belly, leashing me to a gaggle of machines beside the bed. An IV bag of pitocin hung from a hooked pole beside me, the tubes trailing down to a needle taped in place on the back of my hand.

I bounced on the ball, my hands braced on Tess’s knees while she sat on the side of the bed in front of me. I felt my torso squeeze and held my breath. The monitor beeped, registering a contraction.

“Blow the pain out,” Tess crooned, ghosting her fingertips up and down my arms.

I grabbed her knees and rotated my hips on the ball. A small “Ack!” bubbled up from my throat before I sucked air in through my nose and forced it out through pursed lips. I blew hard until my lungs went flat, then filled them again and continued the process. Salty water leaked from my shut eyelids and slid in thick droplets down my neck and back. I blew so I wouldn’t scream. I knew I could scream, but I didn’t want to come unglued only a few hours into active labor. Hell, my water hadn’t even broken yet.

I could still be in control of myself, even if this birth was not going according to plan.

I was hoping labor would be smoother after the stitches were out, but they’d only caused more complications. I’d dilated quickly regardless of the sutures, already three centimeters open when the doctor snipped the strings. He’d gotten to me too late, though. The stitches had ripped small tears in my cervix as Milo’s head pulled them apart. The swelling was immense – within minutes I was sealed shut again and my labor stalled. Hence, the pitocin.

The pitocin hijacked my body, forcing it to crush inward on itself like a soda can in a hydraulic press – at a strength and speed beyond what felt natural. I had never felt labor this intensely! I would desperately cling to any self-control I had in that beige nightmare of a room.

“Mmmmh,” I hummed through my nose, my hip swivel morphing back into a bounce as the contraction eased.

“Good job,” Tess grinned at me. “You’re doin’ so good, Fawn.”

I moaned and leaned back, bracing my hands on my hips as I rode that birthing ball like a rodeo star. “Have they landed yet?”

“Doll, they ain’t on the plane yet,” Tess said. “The only direct flight they could book on such short notice leaves at one-fifteen. Ray’ll call us when they take off and when they land.”

“God,” I huffed, my chin falling onto my chest. “They gotta be here. They can’t miss this!”

“Everyone’s doin’ their best and that’s the only thing they can,” Tess said. “It’s only an hour flight. They’ll be here in time, don’tcha worry.”

My hair had grown past my shoulders during my pregnancy, and it was suffocating me. I lifted my auburn curls off my flushed neck to cool down. Tess watched me for a moment before pulling the elastic band from her hair. A cascade of blonde fell down her back, sun-bleached highlights vibrant even in the low light. Without a word she came ‘round and gathered my frizz into her hands. A few flicks of the wrist and she had my hair up in a damp, poofy bun.

Tess kneaded the back of my neck for a while. I rested against her, letting her work my muscles like dough. Milo kicked, causing a dull ‘thump’ on the doppler.

“Fawn,” Tess broke the silence, “there’s nothin’ wrong with askin’ for pain relief.”

“Don’t want it.”

“Doll, I can tell it’s hurtin’ like hell. You’re hooked up ‘ta stuff that could rocket a foal out’a ‘ya.”

“I’m. Fine.”

“Just ‘cause ‘ya managed before doesn’t mean-.”

“I don’t wanna be stuck in that bed!” I cried. “I don’t wanna lay there like a lame horse ‘til they strap me up in stirrups! I’m NOT doing that again!”

I pulled away, using the bed’s railing to lift myself to my feet. My hand wrapped around to support my lower spine, exposed by the untied loops of my hospital gown. Tess picked up the absorbent pad on the birthing ball, folding it over to hide the bright spot of blood where I’d been sitting. I saw it, but it didn’t scare me – I knew it was from all the swelling. She retrieved the pink water cup from the table and let me drink from its straw.

“I had my baby here, too,” she finally spoke. She sat back down on the bed and smoothed her hand over the starchy sheets. “The beds feel the same.”

“Ravi was born here?” I rocked myself from foot-to-foot, holding onto the railing to keep steady. “I didn’t know that.”

“Four years ago as of January,” Tess said with a nod. “I was in here a few months before ‘ya, ‘shug. Who knows? Maybe they had us in the same room.”

God. Had it been four years already? I had a four-year-old somewhere out there and he had never seen my face. What toys did he like to play with? Did he watch the same preschooler shows that Suri and I watched together? What were his favorite foods? I wanted to know all of that. I wanted to know him! I wanted to know the sound of his voice, the color of his eyes, the texture of his hair . . . or his name.

A scar somewhere in my chest ripped open and I swear I could feel a black void pouring over my ribs like paint. I held my breath. Tears dripped from the tip of my nose and onto my belly. I was in so much pain, but not from labor. My soul was bleeding – the wound as raw as the day it was carved.

In my mind's eye, I saw myself reaching for my son as the doctor held him up. I saw my arms cradling his little naked body against my chest while he took his first breaths. I saw my lips pressing kisses into his bald, wrinkly scalp while my eyes cried phantom tears onto his skin.

None of that had happened at all – but it should have! I should have been given the chance to say goodbye – to look into his eyes and tell him how much I would always love him, even if he couldn’t see me. No, not even that. He should have stayed my baby! I should have gotten pregnant by a different man – a good man. I should have been on the pill instead of relying on his father’s cheap, oversized condoms that were probably expired. I should have fucked up my life less. I should have made a thousand better choices, so he could have stayed my baby!

I screamed along with the frantic beeping of the monitor, but all physical pain paled in comparison to the emotional. I’d cried through my heartbreak once before, but being back in that damn ward, in an identical room, brought all my grief pouring back out. Tears and liquid snot flowed down my face as I white-knuckled the bed’s railing to keep me upright. I gulped full lungs of air, only to wail and scream and sob until they were empty.

I think Tess knew my tears were from deeper down than they seemed. She leaned close and gently took hold of my contracting sides. Her palms rubbed large, soothing circles into my hardened womb. Her sympathetic eyes never left my face.

“Good girl,” she crooned. My eyes were blurry with salt water, but I thought the skin around her eyes looked red. “Scream it all out.”

“I want my baby, Tess!” I cried. “I . . .” my shoulders jerked with a sob, my diaphragm spasming from lack of air. “I n-never got to ho-hold him!” Another hiccup. “H-He’s going to think I . . . think I didn’t w-want him! But I . . . I wanted h-him so much!”

“Hushhh,” Tess shushed me. She wiped my face with the scratchy hospital blanket. “Hush now, doll. Calm ‘yaself down and get some air in.”

“Okay,” I nodded, still choking on sobs and panting for breath. “Okay . . . okay . . .” The awareness of the contraction began creeping into my brain. “Ohh . . . ohh . . . oh, shit!”

Blinded with tears, I threw my arm out to grab onto Tess. I balled her shirt collar in my hand and restarted my “blow the pain out” technique.

Tess continued massaging the sides of my belly, waiting to speak until she felt my muscles start to uncoil. “Are ‘ya sure you don’t want somethin’? I can call the nurse.”

I sniffled and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. Able to see again, I realized I hadn’t been wrong. Tess had been crying. My hand released her shirt, and my arm snaked around her shoulders to pull her into a hug.

“Tess . . . I just want you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three-thirty in the morning. We hadn’t heard anything from Ray, and even less from the Gillespies.

A nurse had been in to check me twice in the last hour. Milo was still in his comfy water balloon and that seemed to be cushioning him from the extra-strength contractions. I nearly started crying again when they told me his heart rate was fine and I could continue to labor on my own. With how damaged my cervix was – and how many liters of pitocin they’d given me – I’d been terrified of an emergency C-section.

By then I’d lost the use of my legs, but I refused to stay on the bed for more than a few minutes – usually just long enough to pull my knees back and let a nurse stick her fingers inside me. With the help of an orderly who’d come to swap out my IV bag, Tess had taken the mattress off the bed so I could have something soft to lie down on without feeling trapped.

I’d taken to half-lying on the floor with my arms and upper body resting on the birth ball. I couldn’t keep myself quiet during contractions any longer. Making low, rumbling noises like a cow in a ball gag was a must. It was how I was surviving. Between those moments, I was just tired. It was a relief that I couldn’t feel my cervix anymore, but that was likely because it had effaced. My eyes were heavy and full of grit, but the sixty-something seconds I had between contractions didn’t allow me to sleep.

At that point, I was beyond the mental capacity to worry about Silas and Owen. Milo and Tess were the only other people who existed in the world as transition’s brutal hand crushed me in its fist.

In hindsight, I think that’s why I didn’t panic when the pressure set in.

Tess was kneeling on pillows on the other side of the birthing ball, humming a lullaby to relax me between contractions. Her tune tapered to a halt when I shifted my hips, one leg pulling up to my side. “What’cha need, ‘shug?”

“I feel him.” I stated it like a bland fact.

My eyes were closed, but I felt Tess’s hand touch my shoulder. We’d already decided what we’d do if this happened before the Gillespies arrived.

“Alright, doll. It’s alright,” she crooned. “Lemmie come around.”

I heard the soft ‘pap pap pap’ of Tess’s socks traveling in an arch around me on the faux wood floor. Her weight settled on the mattress by my feet.

“Promise I won’t touch,” she said. “I’m just eyes.”

I grunted and rolled my leg outward to open my hips. Oh, I knew that pressure so well by that point. I knew better than to doubt my body. More pitocin mixed with my blood, drip-by-drip, through the needle in my hand. I wasn’t sure if someone should’ve removed it by then, but whatever. I was gonna use it to my advantage.

The monitor around my belly beeped. I pressed my toes down and pushed before I truly felt the pain. Milo kicked the doppler again, like he realized he was finally being evicted. After a solid ten seconds, I relaxed with a nasally whine.

“He’s coming, Tess.”

“I know, doll.” Tess gently nudged my foot to a more grounded position. “Soon as I see ‘im, I’ll call a nurse. Ain’t no one gonna put ‘ya in that bed, I’ll make sure’a that.”

I scooted up more into a half-squat, one arm draped over the ball and the other wrapping around my knee. Chin-to-chest, I used the rest of the contraction to bear down against the familiar sensation of a baby sliding down my passage. I took frequent breaths between my efforts so I wouldn’t get dizzy, panting a small “Uh . . . Uh . . . Uh” with each exhale.

I didn’t need to throw my all into pushing, the contractions were doing most of the work. Maybe that pitocin was a blessing in disguise – I don’t know if I had the energy to make progress without it. Five pushes in, and I felt my inner walls stretch around the baby. My quiet whines and grunts escalated into growls as the pain grew sharper, and I flowered open wider.

“Damn, he’s huge!” I moaned as I eased off my most recent push. Forget “Bat Bean”, the fucking Chicago Bean was coming out of me!

“Remember, you’re pushin’ out the sac, too,” Tess said.

I hugged my hiked-up leg closer to my side, teeth gnashing in my skull as my face turned purple with effort. “Ugh!” I released a small bark of pain during a brief pause, then spent the rest of the push with a low growl in my chest.

My labia brushed the crease of my thigh, the skin bowing out and preparing to stretch. I felt the inner structure of my clit get crushed as the mass of the baby pressed its way down. It was something I’d felt before in the past during childbirth – but never to the extent that it fired electric shocks of nerve pain down both legs. My toes curled as a ghostly, stabbing pain assaulted the arches of my feet.

I relaxed against the ball with a loud huff of air. “Tess, rub the bottoms of my feet,” I begged, my head falling back against inflated rubber. Thank god she did it without question, I was too embarrassed to explain.

Two contractions later, I was mid-push when a gout of hot water splashed onto the mattress. My focus was broken by the release of pressure, and I leaned forward to peer over my belly. A saw an expanding area of wet sheets between my thighs, darkening the color of the mattress as more amniotic fluid drained from me.

“He’s makin’ his way out, doll!” Tess grabbed the blanket and bunched it up around my rear to soak up some of the mess. “You’re openin’ up!”

“Ahh!” The arm holding my knee in place flew down to pry open my leg, fingers pulling at the skin where my thigh met my groin. My body pushed for me and my perineum thinned out and spread over the head as it dropped past my tailbone.

“Fuck, Tess!” I whined, vocal chords straining. “Fuck, he’s hurting me!”

“Take it slow,” Tess said, patting my thigh. “Let it stretch.”

I arched back against the ball as my lips bulged outward with the size of Milo’s head. The arm draped over the ball was numb, but it was the only thing keeping me upright. The room reverberated with a roar I didn’t realize was mine as I felt that all-too-familiar fire blaze to life. My entire world shrank down to that inferno between my legs. The only thought in my head was to push down into it. My fingertips migrated beneath me, pressing against the hellfire in my perineum as the flesh pulled dangerously tight. I was aware Tess got up from the floor, but I was blind and deaf to the world.

The ringing in my ears muffled the sound of the door bursting open. My eyes flew open in surprise as a gloved hand gently nudged my fingers aside and cupped my perineum. A scrubbed nurse knelt in front of me, a mask covering her face from the nose-down – but even then, her eyes smiled at me.

“Good job, Fawn!” the nurse praised me. “Baby’s crowning. You’re nearly done!”

I flinched when someone else took my leg and hiked it up to my side. It was Tess. I finally understood she must’ve run and got help. I thought I heard a cell phone ringing, but no one else reacted to it. I accepted the fact I was hallucinating.

I threw my arm around Tess’s waist, unaware my fingers were coated in blood, and held tight as I pushed again. I gasped deep and screamed as I felt myself make quick progress once the top of his head breached the air.

“Don’t stop, doll. He’s comin’,” Tess said, her lips brushing my scalp.

Sweat stung my eyes, so I kept them squeezed shut. My whole body trembled, my nerves going haywire as Milo surged forward with a massive, unstoppable push. I felt the little bump of his nose traveling through the pouch of my perineum. The nurse palmed the crown of his head, trying to let me stretch easily over his brow.

A loud slam caused everyone to jump, and the bright light of the hallway sent a migraine through my skull. The nurse turned to scold the two men scrambling into the room, but Tess saved the day:

“They’re the parents!” she cried. “They’re stayin’!”

I couldn’t pay attention to anything going on around me. With a roar of effort, I bore down until I heard the wet little ‘shlip’ of Milo’s head pushing free into the nurse’s hand.

“Owen! Silas! Here, now!” Tess ordered.

I heard two more bodies thump to the ground beside the floor bed.

“We’re so sorry, Fawn!” I heard a familiar voice yell – a voice that belonged to a man I’d only ever heard through the static of a screen.

“Later, Owen!” Tess snapped. “Focus on your baby right now! Do not miss this!”

I didn’t care about anything – I knew this baby was on his way out right then and there! Nothing else in my mind or body would function until he’d made his journey earth-side! I clung to Tess, who pressed my leg back wider as Milo’s thick shoulders started to press out of me.

“Push, doll. Push on ‘im hard,” she encouraged me softly, her voice like warm honey.

The nurse began pulling down on the baby, forcing his shoulder to pry my public bone out of place to come through. I don’t quite know what the sound I made was, but it didn’t sound human. The nurse pulled upward, and . . .

“And we have a baby!” the nurse cheered as Milo’s body gushed out onto the mattress. A small trickle of leftover fluid followed his feet.

“Holy shit.“ My whole body relaxed as soon as that relief came.

My eyelids slid open when I heard that little guy make the sweetest newborn cries I’d ever heard. For a big baby, he had a small voice. Thin, blonde baby down was plastered to his scalp, and even while he was all squished and blotchy I could tell he looked like Owen.

“Oh, look how sweet!” the nurse sing-songed while she toweled Milo dry. “Isn’t he a perfect little man?”

A second nurse mysteriously appeared in the background. I peeked around Tess and saw the extra nurse fanning Silas with a laminated paper while he sat slumped against the wall, looking dazed. Owen kept looking at his husband over his shoulder, but his attention was constantly pulled back to his son.

“Oh . . . hey, guys.” I sleepily waved to the fathers. “When did you get here?”

Owen glanced back at Silas, who was rubbing his forehead and seemed to be coming around. “Just in time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I flipped through the pictures in my phone while I rode home with Tess. Milo and I had stayed in the hospital for a few days for observation. I’d needed a few internal stitches (wow, real shocker there) and they just wanted to keep an eye on Milo because of his troublesome gestation. At first, there was a little bit of concern because of how lethargic he was – but his bloodwork was fine, so I guess he was just a sleepy lad. He wasn’t awake in any of the pictures the Gillespies and I had taken.

There were countless photos of Milo being snuggled by all of us. Ray and Suri had popped in to see me the morning after I gave birth – mostly for Suri’s sake, she’d woken up crying over not being able to find me at home. I had a picture from that morning of Tess holding Milo in the room’s armchair while Ray held Suri up so she could see what my “belly buddy” looked like. Suri somehow looked confused, disgusted and amazed all at once. My favorite picture was the one Tess had taken of me and the family together. I was sitting up in bed and holding Milo while Silas and Owen sat on either side of me. All of us – except Milo, who was asleep with a binky in his mouth – were smiling wide at the camera.

One of the first pictures in my album was of Milo swaddled like a burrito a few hours after he was born, fast asleep in the baby cot beside my bed. His name, weight and time of birth were written on a card taped above his head. Beside that card was the paper cutout of a purple butterfly.

In Silas’s first picture with his miracle baby, he was pale as death but still smiling. He’d needed to sit down for a while after passing out, but he’d held his little boy nearly every minute in that chair. He’d held Milo while they performed his medical tests, only allowing the nurses to take him away for his first bath. In the picture I’d taken after that, Silas was gazing at Milo with all the love in his eyes that a father could give – and Milo was wrapped in a fresh blanket with an embroidered purple butterfly on the corner. The Gillespies had brought that blanket with them.

At first I’d thought the purple butterfly cutout was just a decoration choice the hospital had made; but when Milo’s first gift from his parents had the same image, I’d asked why it was showing up so often. Turns out, that hospital had adopted The Purple Butterfly Project – an initiative that offered support for patients who had lost a child in a set of multiples. The cutout on Milo’s cot was meant to celebrate the life of his “flown-away” twin, as well as make staff members and visitors aware that he was the wingless half of a pair. It took on the burden of explanation, so Silas and Owen could bond with their son without worry.

My phone buzzed with a new message from my clients. It was a selfie Owen had taken of himself and Silas at the airport, with Milo snug in a sling around Silas’s chest. The picture came with the message: “Thank you for blessing us so deeply! We hope the joy you’ve given us will be repaid – with interest! Milo is going to be showered with love every day of his life. You’re more than welcome to keep in touch with our family, Fawn. We’re happy to let you watch Milo grow up with us. Love, Owen and Silas.”

I locked my phone and sat it face-down in my lap. “Hey, Tess?” I asked, watching the road unfurl beyond the windshield as we traveled the rural roads. “When will it be my turn?”

Tess glanced at me. “For what?”

“Being happy,” I deadpanned. “I’ve made three different families happy. You and Ray, the Gillespies . . . and my son’s parents. I just wanna know when my turn is.”

The rest of the car ride passed in total silence. When we parked in front of the farmhouse, Tess turned to look at me while she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Doll, there’s somethin’ I want ‘ya ‘ta see.”

Going upstairs was a herculean task with how stiff and full-body sore I was, but Tess held my hand and walked with me step-by-step. She brought me into the master bedroom and sat me down on her side of the bed. Tess opened her bedside drawer and pulled out a wooden box that was roughly the size of a checkerboard. She plopped down beside me and stared at the box in her lap for a moment before saying:

“I haven’t opened this since we brought it home. I couldn’t. But . . . I think now’s the time.”

I watched as Tess lifted the lid of the box, revealing a carefully folded fleece blanket with pastel stars printed on it.

“What is it?” I asked.

Tess lovingly took the small blanket in her hands and began unfolding it. Beneath the layers of fabric was a blue crystalline teddy bear sculpture holding a silver heart between its paws. Tess picked up the bear and held it in her palm – that’s how small it was.

“This is Ravi,” she said.

Once light hit the silver heart at a different angle, I saw the engraving on it: “Ravi Idris Tariq”, with a single date underneath. Tess turned the bear over in her hands so I could see the second engraving on its back: “I carried you every second of your life.”

“I wrapped ‘im in his blanket,” Tess said, her thumb stroking the bear urn’s head. “It made it feel more like I was puttin’ him down ‘ta sleep instead’a . . . y’know.”

I was too stunned to speak.

Tess set the baby blanket in the box and – tiny urn still in-hand – got up and walked to her closet. A quick rummage, and she returned with a different fleece blanket. This one was pastel rainbow colored and was covered in white stars, an inverse of the other.

“These came as a set,” Tess said. “We donated everythin’ he never got to use, except for this. This one’s special.” She rubbed the blanket on her cheek. “I prayed over this one. I asked Mother Gaia ‘ta allow my baby’s spirit ‘ta be linked to this earthly object, so that I could hold it and it would be the same as holdin’ him.”

Tess re-joined me on the side of the bed, clutching Ravi’s urn to her heart while she cuddled and kissed the rainbow blanket. “I still miss ‘im. I miss ‘im a lot,” she said. “Having this connection to him helps.”

After a minute, Tess set both blankets and the urn inside the wooden box. Then, she took my hands into her own.

“Neither of us got ‘ta hold our little boys,” she said. “Mine was already in the arms of Mother Gaia, and yours was in the arms of his mama before you had the chance. That’s what’cha told us, right?”

I nodded, silent and enraptured. Tess smiled at me.

“Well, when you’re feelin’ more ‘yaself, I’ll teach ‘ya how to use my sewin’ machine,” she said, giving my hands a gentle squeeze. “You’ll pick out the fabric and you’ll make a baby blanket. That’ll be his baby blanket, ain’t no one else’s. I’ll ask Mother Gaia ‘ta bless it for ‘ya. When you feel all that love buildin’ up with nowhere to go, hold it. Hold your baby. He’ll be able to feel it, no matter where he is.”

I returned her smile, but my throat was almost too tight for me to speak. “I’d like that.”

We made a small shrine for Ravi’s urn on the mantle that night. Ray and Tess had Suri help set it up, explaining the existence of her elder brother to her in a way she would understand:

“Mama had a baby in her belly just like Fawn did,” Ray said, lifting Suri up so she could drop a few cut flowers from the garden beside the tiny blue bear. “That was before you were born. You were just a twinkle in Mama’s eye back then.”

“Where the baby?” Suri asked as her father plopped her back down.

“This is the baby,” Tess said, tapping on the silver heart between the bear’s paws. “He had ‘ta go back ‘ta Mother Gaia while he was still in my belly. This is where his body sleeps.”

I lit a few jarred candles and placed them on the mantle. From my back pocket, I pulled out the laminated purple butterfly cutout that had been taped to Milo’ cot at the hospital. I placed it upright against the mantle wall, so that two purple wings appeared to be sprouting from Ravi’s bear.

It wasn’t my turn to be happy, yet. I had a long way to go before I could start making my own dreams come true. Maybe school could wait a while. Maybe the money I’d earned throughout my surrogacy could be put to better use.

Maybe I was sick of staying on the path my own stupid choices had led me down. Maybe it was time I started making the choices I’d wished I’d made earlier.

I was tired of living in the shadow of grief Alexander had cast over my life. I’d lost everything because of him . . .

. . . but I was ready to start taking it back.

~ END ~

#Fawn Drabbles #birth kink #labor kink #mittysins #RP Drabble

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