#i got a little carried away so here's nine pages of angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanfiction-and-coffee · 7 years

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"no. no, no, no — you really don’t want me as a soulmate." with jason todd please? for the angsty soulmate thing?

okay, so I wanted to do something a little different with this, because I don’t want to just use the same au for every prompt, you know? so for this one shot I’m going with an au where everyone feels an invisible magnetic pull towards their soulmate, and it gets stronger the closer you get to them. (not gonna lie, I’m reading the night circus by erin morgenstern right now, and this au is heavily based off of that book but with a soumate-y twist lmao) I hope that explanation makes sense.

jason’s backstory is also cool for this because it lets me think about what would happen to the soulmate bond if one person died, so here’s your official content warning for angst, character death, and some minor medical body horror.

prompt is from this list!

When Jason was in his early teens, he loved the idea of soulmates. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in him, too many hours spent poring over books like Pride And Prejudice and The Great Gatsby. Maybe it was because his parents weren’t soulmates, and he was still young enough to convince himself that all of the fighting and insults and viciousness in their relationship was because they just weren’t meant to be – that surely two people who were fated to be together could be nothing but happy. Or maybe he was just a lonely kid, desperate for love and attention, hanging on to the hope that there was someone out there in the great big world who wanted him.

Whatever the reason, he used to leave the house every morning wondering if today was the day that the unseen hands of fate would pull him towards his soulmate. He’d heard some people describe the bond as a magnetic pull, while others said it was more of a hollow ache, the sense that something was missing inside them. To him, it felt like a small but persistent tugging in his chest, like a string was tied around his heart, with someone holding the other end and gently pulling on it. On some days it was stronger than others, and those were the days that his hopes soared the highest, wondering if maybe the person he was meant to be with was right around the corner.

No one could accurately describe the feeling of finding your soulmate, and scientists speculated that it felt different for every person. All anyone knew for sure that it was a rush of endorphins, and that it just felt right. There was no way to miss it or mistake it for something else – when you found your soulmate, you’d know it.

After becoming Robin, he had less time to think about finding his soulmate. Between training and his new “night job” and adjusting to being part of his new family, he hardly had time to sleep, let alone daydream.

After he dies, after the Lazarus Pit brings him back broken and twisted and wrong, he stops thinking about his soulmate at all.

You were fourteen when your bond with your soulmate was severed.

You’d heard about bonds being cut before, of course. Even a bond between soulmates can’t bridge the gap between life and death. But no one had told you about the pain.

You woke up screaming in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat and clawing at your chest. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt, as if a hot knife had been plunged right through your heart. Every breath was a struggle, sawing painfully from your too-tight chest, and in that moment you were fully convinced that you were dying.

Your screams and sobs brought your family running to your room, but you hardly registered being gently lifted from bed and carefully changed into warm clothes. You felt disconnected, distant, only aware of the pain in your chest and the overwhelming sense that something was horrifically wrong.

By the time you reached the hospital, the pain had faded to a dull ache, and your breathing had returned to normal. You spent the rest of the night under observation in a hospital bed, being tested for various ailments as a team of doctors pondered about what could possibly send a healthy teenager into cardiac arrest.

It was the hospital’s head psychiatrist who sat you down a few days later, gently explaining that nothing was physically wrong with you, but that people’s bodies sometimes reacted this way when their bond with their soulmate was severed unexpectedly. It was uncommon to see it in someone so young, she told you in a sympathetic tone, but tragedies did sometimes happen. She ended the conversation by gently patting you on the arm and telling you that she was very sorry for your loss.

You stayed out of school for a week, telling your friends and classmates that you’d come down with a nasty case of the flu but were otherwise fine. Only your family and your doctors knew the truth.

The ache in your chest lasted for days before fading to a strange hollowness. You spent most of the week alone in your room, trying to wrap your head around the idea that your soulmate, the one person you’d been destined for, was gone. Dead.

You’d never given much thought to soulmates or destiny, always assuming that you’d have time for those things when you were older. Now, it was all you could think about.

For nearly an entire year, you lived every day with that empty feeling in your chest, the fundamental sense that something essential was missing, torn out. You weren’t in mourning – you’d never known your soulmate, didn’t even know their name. But without that bond that you’d always taken for granted, you felt cold.

When your friends commented on how much more serious you were these days, you told them that you were preoccupied with school, with family drama, whatever excuse it took to keep them from asking too many questions. You didn’t want to tell them what had really happened. What you’d lost. It was easier to keep it a secret, quietly grieving for a lost relationship with someone you’d never met, but should have.

And then, one day, almost a full year after the night the bond was severed, it suddenly returned.

There was no pain this time, no sudden change. You simply woke up one morning with the strangest feeling that something was different.

It only took a few minutes for you to realize that the change was in your chest, where the aching emptiness that you’d grown to accept as a part of you had been replaced by a soft, gentle warmth that you’d been sure you’d never feel again. You could feel the gentle tug, like your heart had its own gravity pulling it towards the person at the other end of the bond. After so many months of nothing, it felt strange. Wrong.

For weeks, you kept it a secret, half expecting the bond to disappear again, leaving you as alone and as hollow as before. When a month had passed and the bond remained steady and strong, you told your family about it, asking them nervously what this meant for you.

Nobody knows what it means, is the unhelpful answer that you got stuck with.

It’s not unheard of for people who lose a soulmate at a young age to develop a new bond, connecting them to a new fate with a new person, but it usually takes much longer than yours did. The therapist your family took you to suggested that you may have had a small mental break, causing your brain to convince your body that your bond had been lost, but she couldn’t think of any trauma in your life that would have been significant enough to cause such an episode, or what could have suddenly brought you out of it. You wondered if maybe it isn’t the other way around – if maybe your soulmate was really and truly dead, and your poor brain was hallucinating a new bond because you couldn’t accept the reality of what you’d lost.

Whatever the reason, you decided after those therapy sessions that you didn’t need a soulmate, whether you really had one out there somewhere or not. It’s pathetic, you think, to hang all of your happiness on a single person, and you’re determined to live a full life without one. So you put it out of your mind.

And when, five years later, the tugging sensation in your chest suddenly grows much more intense, as if your soulmate is now much closer to you than they were before, you are determined to ignore it.

Jason doesn’t like being back in Gotham. The city is full of rot and filth and bad memories, and his nightmares are always worse when he’s there. But what he hates most, whether he’ll admit it to himself or not, is that even after all this time, it still feels like home.

Part of it is that his family – and he does still think of them as family, despite everything – is here, sure, but it’s made worse by the fact that the pulling sensation in his chest intensifies whenever he’s within the city limits, like the person he’s being pulled towards is there. He doesn’t like thinking about it, doesn’t like admitting that he’s terrified by it.

Terrified that he’ll find his soulmate in Gotham, of all places. Terrified that he isn’t good enough, that they won’t want him. And the other alternative, the possibility that they’ll accept him despite everything and want to stay with him, is the most terrifying of all.

The people Jason Todd loves rarely stick around, and when they do, bad things always happen to them. He doesn’t want to inflict that on anyone else, doesn’t want to have to deal with losing anyone else he cares about.

Besides, after all the things he’s done, no sane person would want to be anywhere near him. Not that he’d blame them.

And so he ignores the feeling in his chest, and whenever he’s in Gotham he tries to avoid meeting new people.

“I’ve really gotta get out of this city,” you mumble under your breath. “Or at least stop going out at night.”

You’ve had this conversation with yourself a dozen times before, and yet you still have rent to pay, and so you still find yourself agreeing every time your boss asks you to work late. The walk from your place of work to the bus station that will take you home is fine, if not entirely pleasant, during the day, but once the sun goes down it becomes more than a little harrowing. There’s no “good part of town” in Gotham, but this area in particular has been known to get especially rough when the nocturnal crowd is roaming the streets.

Maybe you should look for a new job in a nicer part of the city, you think to yourself as you pass an alley between two buildings where a group of teenagers smoke something that definitely isn’t tobacco.

Tonight’s walk is even more tense than usual, the extra stress all due to the large man in a hoodie who has been walking several paces behind you for an uncomfortably long time. He’s too big for you to feel optimistic about your chances of fighting him off if it comes to that, and this isn’t the kind of neighborhood where you can count on someone coming to your aid if you scream.

Don’t stress about it, you command yourself, even as you reach into your bag for the pepper spray that you always carry with you when you have to walk the streets of Gotham alone. Think about something else. Anything else.

You usually make a point of not thinking about your soulmate, but right now it seems like as good a distraction as any. The tugging of the bond in your chest has intensified significantly in the last week or two, and you’ve been trying not to dwell on it. Even now, that steady warmth seems to grip your heart tightly, gently pulling you towards something you aren’t sure you want to find.

The man in the hoodie is definitely following you, you decide. You quicken your pace, only for him to match your new speed, the distance between you staying exactly the same. Your heart begins to beat faster, and you wonder if you started sprinting now if you could make it to the bus stop before he caught up to you.

You’ve gotten so worked up that you jump and nearly scream at the tall figure who ducks silently out of the doorway they’d been standing in, smoothly falling into step at your side.

“You shouldn’t be out by yourself this late, you know.” The figure says in a deep, definitely male voice.

“Neither should you.” As you say it, you take in the stranger out of the corner of your eye. He’s tall, but not as tall as you originally thought, you realize. He has broad shoulders and a muscular build that make him look bigger than he really is. But what you’re more concerned with is his outfit – he’s wearing a leather jacket that looks like it’s been torn and hastily mended in several places, and a bright red helmet that completely covers his head, including his face.

You almost groan out loud. If living in Gotham has taught you anything, it’s that people in costumes are rarely good news. And you’ve even heard of this guy before.

“Red Hood, right?” You lift an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be selling drugs somewhere?”

“I don’t sell the drugs, sweetheart.” He sounds like he’s grinning under the helmet. “I just tell other people where to sell them. Guy’s gotta make a living somehow. We can’t all be Bruce Wayne.” The way he says it, you’re fairly sure there’s a double meaning to the quip that you aren’t picking up on.

His tone suddenly becomes serious as he moves closer to you, so that his body is angled between you and the man following you. “I’m pretty sure there’s a human trafficking ring operating in this neighborhood. I’ve been trying to, uh, deal with them, but they’re harder to pin down than I expected.” The helmet tilts down towards you, and you’re pretty sure you detect a bit of concern in his voice. “Is there somewhere safe I can walk you to?”

“Yeah,” You say softly, suddenly no longer minding his close proximity. “My bus stop is just a few more blocks. I think I can make it home from there.”

“Good. That’s good.” He moves to put his hand on your back in a casual, friendly gesture. “Just act calm and casual, okay? We’re just two friends out for a–”

He stops mid-sentence when his hand connects with your back, and you can’t say you blame him. For your own part, you’re suddenly finding it difficult to stay on your feet, as your legs seem to have decided they’re no longer interested in supporting you.

The feeling is similar to an electric shock, and you can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to be struck by lightning. You’re almost painfully aware of his hand, still on your back, and you could swear you can feel the heat of his skin, even through multiple layers of clothing. But the most intense change is in your chest, where you feel as if whatever invisible thread was tied around your heart has suddenly gone taught, paired with a warmth and energy that seems to be spreading into your very bones. It’s not painful. In fact, you think it might be the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt.

It only lasts for a second or two before he snatches his hand away as if he’s been burnt, and as suddenly as the strange new feeling appeared, it’s gone. It leaves you reeling, and you stumble, almost tripping and falling. He moves to steady you, but then seems to think better of it. He’s careful not to touch you again.

“You felt that too, right?” Your voice is slightly breathless, and your knees still feel weak.

He nods slowly. When he speaks, the playful and confident tone is gone. “Yeah.” His voice breaks. “Yeah, I felt it.”

“What do you think…?” But before you can even finish asking the question, you know. You know it more clearly than you’ve known anything in your entire life.

He’s your soulmate.

“Is… is there somewhere private we could go?” You try to steady your breathing. You can already feel the emptiness settling in your chest, and a small part of you is desperate to touch him again. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah.” His hand floats towards yours, as if he’s going to take it, before he quickly snatches it back. “Uh, yeah, I know somewhere.” He turns away, not looking back to see if you follow. “Shit. Shit.”

The “somewhere private” he takes you to is an apartment that looks like it rarely, if ever, sees use. It’s surprisingly clean and well-furnished, each room decorated in a tasteful but minimalist style, but it feels empty, more like a display room in a furniture store than an actual home.

Jason closes the door behind you a little more forcefully than is strictly necessary, and he resists the urge to glance over at you as he makes his way across the living room and collapses onto the couch. This is one of his nicer hideouts in Gotham, partially because he rarely uses it.

His hands are shaking, he realizes. In fact, his whole body feels pretty damn shaken. He can still feel lingering traces of that overwhelming warmth in his chest, can still feel small flickers of electricity shooting through his veins. He wants to reach out to you, craves more of whatever the hell happened when he touched you before, and it’s all he can do to keep his thoughts together. He can’t touch you again. If he was smart, he would tell you to leave right now, and do everything within his power to make sure you never see him again. That would be the right thing to do.

You sit down next to him, and he sucks in a shaky breath. This is the time to do it, he tells himself, he has to tell you to leave before–

Gently, cautiously, you lay your hand on his arm. It’s the lightest, softest of touches, and yet the wave of feeling and sensation that comes with it is enough to take his breath away and make him feel slightly lightheaded. He’s never felt anything so right, so perfect, and for one short, beautiful second, he hopes it never stops.

Shaking off your touch in that moment is the hardest thing he’s ever done. But he does it.

He sees the hurt and confusion in your eyes, but you quickly smooth over it. You voice is little more than a whisper as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I never thought I’d actually find you.”

“No.” His voice sounds weak and panicky to his own ears as he jumps up from the couch, taking several steps away from you. “No, no, no — you really don’t want me as a soulmate. If you knew who I was, the things I’d done–”

“I know who you are.” You speak softly, like you’re afraid to startle him.

“No.” He keeps backing away, until almost the entire room separates the two of you. “No, you don’t. You have no idea �� you can’t even imagine –” He takes a deep breath, fighting to steady himself, to at least sound like he’s in control of the situation, even if he feels hopelessly lost. “If you knew what I really was, you’d run away screaming.”

“Try me.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I think I can handle it.”

“You can’t.” Jason sinks down into the chair across from the couch, his head in his hands. “I can barely handle it, and I lived it. I don’t…” He looks up at you and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to pull you into all of that. Of this.” He waves his hand at the helmet that still covers his face, at the guns strapped to his side.

“Shouldn’t it be my choice?” Your voice sounds thick, heavy, like you’re on the verge of crying. He can’t look at you.

“I won’t do that to you.” His tone is firm, despite the ache in his chest. “Look: bad things happen to people who hang around me, okay? Just being with me could get you killed.” He slumps back in the chair, defeated. “You should go home and forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t.” You voice breaks, and when he looks up he sees that you are indeed crying. “I can’t go through that again. I don’t– I just can’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘again’?” He leans forward, eyes trained on your face.

“I thought I lost my soulmate, once before.” Your voice is shaky, and he notices that you have your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I was just a kid. Still in high school. I woke up in the middle of the night with this… this ripping, tearing feeling in my chest, and I thought I was dying. It felt like the world was ending.” You pause to angrily swipe at the tears running down your cheeks. “After that, my bond with my soulmate was just… gone. There was nothing there. I felt empty. They told me that my soulmate had probably died. When the bond came back, out of the blue, a year later, I thought…” You trail off, ending the sentence with a shrug rather than finishing it.

Jason feels like he’s been hit by a train. From your appearance, he can guess that you’re about his age, maybe a year or two younger, which means that when you were in high school…

He’s never wondered what his soulmate felt when he died. He came out of the Lazarus Pit with the bond somehow miraculously intact, so it’s never occurred to him that his death would have severed it, or that his resurrection might have somehow mended it. He’s never wondered what it would feel like to lose your soulmate before you even met them.

Now, looking at your face, he realizes just how awful it must have been.

“I’m sorry.” The words don’t feel like enough, but he means them with every fiber of his being. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. But now you know.” You stand up and slowly cross the room, before taking a seat on the arm of his chair. “And no matter what you’ve done, no matter how dangerous your life is… I’d rather have all of that, any day, than have to deal with losing my soulmate again. So can we at least try?” You hold out your hand, waiting for him to take it, to accept your offering of friendship, of maybe something more.

He hesitates for only a moment before he takes it.

#i got a little carried away so here's nine pages of angst #requested #soulmate au #angst #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd/reader #batfam #batman imagine #dc comics imagine #dc comics #batfam imagine

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papergirllife · 3 years

Text

First Love

Lucas Wong / Yukhei

"They say first love is a special experience that one would always hold a special place in your heart. Wong Yukhei was your first love in high school, but along the way, you had to say goodbye to him in order for him to achieve his dream of becoming a star in Korea. Yet fate and destiny plays its role in paving the two of you an intersection once more, will the two of you and up together at the very end?"

Warnings : smut, unprotected sex, mild angst, a child (pregnancy not described), tooth rotting fluff (all in that order, kinda)

A/N : this is one of my most heavily devoted works I've ever written, so please, of you're comfortable, drop a feedback to tell me if you guys like this writing style, thank you!

Lucas Wong of NCT and most importantly his own fixed unit, Wayv, the man who garners attention and love wherever he goes, that dazzling smile is sure to be captured by numerous cameras of awaiting fans.

But to you, Lucas was never Lucas, to you he was Yukhei, and more significantly, your ex from high school. Yukhei was your first love, you remember when the two of you had first met in Year 9, Yukhei was known for being a class clown and more of a klutz, girls would always have a soft spot for him even if they didn't like him in that way.

Yukhei was your desk mate for Year 10, the thing got you on your nerves about him was that he never took group assignments seriously, and was never at school on time, his uniform was wrinkly from rushing out of his house to catch the bus and always had a stationary missing, which means he had to borrow yours.

You never hated him, hate is a strong word, things were very neutral with him, most times, he unintentionally annoys you, but he'd always make up to you by bringing you a small bottle of apple juice the next day. The only time the two of you really fought was when he had not spoken up when his friends snatched your book away from yours to copy you off, brushing it off as a small matter.

You were quite an immature person back then, and no one can blame you, you were just a teenager, and being said that, you had refused to lend Yukhei a ruler when the math teacher did a pop quiz, so he had to use the dust pan as no one, other than you that is, brings an extra ruler.

It's not your fault, you thought back then, he shouldn't have depended on you to bring his share of stationaries. The next day, you walked into class to see his group of friends waiting at your desk to apologize to you, and as for Yukhei, he had yet again brought you a bottle of apple juice, with the addition of your favourite bar of Cadbury.

It was only in Year 11 when Yukhei had confessed to you, saying that all those annoying things he did to you were just to catch your attention, of all the girls he could've liked, he chose the one who was the most unattainable, go figure.

The next year, when the two of you were looking to apply to the same college, Yukhei broke the news to you that he'd be packing his bags for Korea, that the audition he had joined just for fun accepted him as a trainee in a large entertainment company in Korea that everyone in Hong Kong knows, SM.

At first you didn't approve of his decision, that his education was important as well, that he had a life here, with you. But Yukhei had given very valid reasons to you, that he wouldn't have passed the college entrance exams if it weren't for your tuitions until late at night in the public library, that he didn't really have an interest in studying. His most valid reason was that he didn't want to take a toll on you when you’re in college, he can't have you sacrifice your sleep and attention for him just to have him attain passing grades.

So you let him go, saying your last farewell to him at the airport as his girlfriend and ex girlfriend.

That was the last time you saw him, choosing to not stay in contact with him as you poured your soul into university life, studying like your life depends on it, you had a few boyfriends here and there, nothing serious, nothing that made you felt like your first love. Maybe you had trouble moving on, or maybe it was just stress, you thought back then, shrugging the thought off casually before diverting your attention else where, this cycle carried on until you came out to work.

Fast forwarding to March of 2019, you had unintentionally came across of a news online that Yukhei had finally been placed in his own fixed unit that would be promoting and performing in Chinese, which isn’t surprising, even the Thai member, Ten, was of Chinese heritage. What made your eyes widen was the fact that they were coming to Hong Kong.

At the day of the fan meet, you had took the day off from your boring low paying job at the law firm, so much for studying your ass off for bar exams, you’re just filing on a daily basis.

Before the day of the fan meet, you had lived off of instant cup noodles for a few weeks just to buy the album and their light stick. When you first listened to the album, you were proud of Yukhei’s rapping skills, you still recall the days when he’d struggle with his mandarin oral tests, the teachers there must be much better than you for him to improve so much, smiling fondly at the old memories.

You waved the light stick and sang along just like the other fans beside you, mesmerised by the performance that the boys are putting up, but your eyes were mostly on Yukhei, you would’ve never thought the once clumsy giant like him would dance as fluidly, executing the moves just as well as the other smaller sized members.

You watch as Yukhei introduces himself and his non Cantonese members in his mother tongue, a feeling of familiarity settling into your mind.

You are quite a confident person, but queuing up to the long table where Yukhei sat at the corner was nerve wrecking to you, what would he say to you? Would he recognise you? It hasn't been that long, but the two of you had done some changes to your looks.

The other members had greeted you with a friendly smile and a few casual questions like have you eaten, but they seem a bit taken aback by the lack of fan girl attitude that most of the fans in front of you had.

When you had got to Yukhei, he had dropped his marker on the floor, his head ducked out of sight to retrieve it, but when he came up to apologise, the words were stuck in his throat, as his eyes opened as wide as saucers. He coughed to mask the surprise on his face.

“Hi, how are you?” He asked as he took your album into his hands, scribbling something down.

“Good, how have you been?” although his hair is coloured, his eyes had contacts, and he wasn't in his messy uniform, the smile on his face never changed.

“Great, it's nice to see you,” to other fans and the staff beside him, they might think it's just one of the standard answers, but you knew Yukhei like the back of your hand, registering the twinkle in his eyes.

Soon, he had placed the album back into your hands, your fingers grazing gently as tiny sparks flew up your tips, eyes never breaking contact until the staff tells you to leave.

When you had sat down at a nearby cafe to get a cup of coffee, you took out your album and flipped to the page where Lucas had written something.

‘Hilton hotel, 9pm,' and his number under it.

At nine sharp, you waited by the hotel’s sitting area, not many people at that time as usually stores in Hong Kong open rather late, patiently you waited for Yukhei. Just as you were scrolling through posts on Instagram, a tall figure approached you.

A call of your name rolled off his tongue naturally, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you.

“I bought you a little something before I got here,” you said as you stood up, letting him guide you to the elevators.

“What is it?” Yukhei lets out a flustered laugh, scratching the back of his nape when he realised he didn't get you anything in return.

“Roast goose and Cha Siew, are they still your favourite?” you asked, hoping his taste hasn’t changed over the years.

“Yeah, man, I remember how we'd always get quarter of both after school at Uncle Chan’s,” Yukhei said, remembering how the boss of the restaurant had hung a photo of two of you on the wall, deeming the two of you his most loyal lovebirds.

“This is from Uncle Chan’s,” you told him as you followed him into his room, looking around, expecting him to be rooming with someone.

“Don't worry, I told Yang Yang to sleep with Ten for the night,” Yukhei said when he saw you looking for someone.

“Oh, that's really nice of him,” you said as you set out the food, the smell of Hong Kong's famous delicacies wafting in the air.

“Man, I really missed this,” Yukhei said as he pulls the arm chair that was a few feet away close to the desk, directing you into it and situating himself in the not so comfortable wooden chair.

“I missed this too,” you said mindlessly, eyes avoiding his before you ate a piece of meat.

“I missed you too,” Lucas confessed, yes there are many pretty girls in his industry, and Korea itself, but no one would be able to replace you, you were his rock all his life, other than his family of course, it's hard to build a connection with someone just as strong when things between the two of you never really ended, in a way.

Leaving on too good terms and without much closure for both of you kept one another thinking of each other. The two of you know, that after tonight, things would go back to normal, Yukhei would be Wayv’s Lucas, and you’d remain as his past, there would never be an outcome from whatever happens tonight.

So when the two of you were recalling memories and troubles the two of you got in school on the oh so comfortable bed, you couldn't help it, hooking a leg over Yukhei’s waist, just like how it started at the night of the graduation party, the night where the two of you lost your virginities to each other.

“I’d be gone tomorrow, we shouldn’t, I shouldn't do this to you,” Yukhei said, a firm believer that it's always the girl that is on the losing side, like he's taking an advantage of you, ever the gentleman.

“I want this for myself, Yukhei, it's not like it's our first time,” you said, trying to convince him.

“I still feel guilty about our first time, I left a few months later after that night, and tomorrow would be the same, I'll be leaving you once more,” Yukhei said as his big hands caressed your cheeks, eyes wide like a puppy, pupils reflecting an image of you, a perfect representation of his universe, you.

“I don't care, I’ve moved on from you as your girlfriend all those years ago, moving on from you after tonight won't be a challenge for me,” you said in a firm tone, one that Yukhei knows all too well, he knows you won't give up when you sound like this.

He could possibly break two hearts if he chooses to act on his impulses, but he missed this, he missed you, and so he threw all caution out of the window when he smashed his lips desperately against yours, chewing on your bottom lip with little force, it was something that would easily get you worked up back then, and to his delight, it still worked, letting him dominate the kiss easily, he let his tongue slid in your mouth, tasting the beer the two of you had just now with a mixture of strawberry lip gloss, you were still using the Nivea one you used all those years ago, this only fuelled his desire for you, his hands leaving your cheeks to locate your waist, pulling you closer to him.

When you were out of air, you broke off the kiss, reaching the hem of your shirt to pull it off, then waiting a few seconds for Yukhei to admire the red lace on your skin before unclasping your bra, letting your blossoms free, all the while as Yukhei looks on, like he was in a trance.

“I missed these,” he commented before taking a mound into his mouth, sucking on your nipple diligently while his other hand comes up to roll it in between the pads of his fingers, the pleasure from the action making you throw your head back, a slip of his name in between your whimpers.

You let Yukhei push you back, letting you fall onto his bed, you felt his hands wander up your skirt, his huge hands around your thighs, squeezing the flesh in his palms, feeling you, but stopped when he reached the hem of your panties, detaching himself from your chest, looking at you for confirmation.

You nodded at him, putting your hand over his to guide him higher, stopping at the curve of your cheek, pushing his hand beneath the clothe, dangerously close to your core, heck he could even feel your arousal already, eyes rolling back at the thought of getting you so worked up.

“Take it off, but you can leave the skirt, for old time’s sake,” you said.

Yukhei looked at you, confused at what you’re trying to say, until he realised you were wearing a pleated checkered skirt, just like the ones you wore back in high school, memories of the two of you sneaking around, having a quickie with your skirt flipped up immediately made blood rush southwards at the thought.

“Fuck, you expected this to happen?” Yukhei asked, shaking his head in disbelief, he was always the troublemaker at school, but oh how the tables have turned now.

“Didn't you?” you asked before getting up to put yourself in a doggy position, shaking your butt, taunting him.

Yukhei chuckled to himself before doing as you say, taking off your panties to reveal your slick covered pussy, dripping wet for him on display.

Yukhei spreads you open by pulling your cheeks apart to lick a stripe up your slit, making you shudder at the warm muscle that was intruding but very much welcomed.

Yukhei allowed himself to fully stuff his face there, inserting his tongue into your core, thrusting the wet muscle at a moderate pace before adding a finger to the mix, then two, stretching you open to let his tongue delve deeper inside, he then adds a third finger, the fullness finally hitting you, soon he did a come hither movement once he had located your sweet spot, his tongue and fingers rubbing against the roof of your walls deliciously, you would’ve lost your balance if it weren't for his hand supporting you by your left hip.

The constant pleasure that Yukhei so willingly inflicted upon you would've soon come to an euphoric end if he hadn’t halted all movement, pulling out his tongue and his fingers, which made you whine his name pathetically, something you wouldn't have done if it weren't for the fact that your mind was reduced to a ball full of cotton.

“Chill, I worked you up so I wouldn't hurt you with my dick,” Yukhei said as he positions himself at your entrance, his hand coming up to your face to tilt your head to his direction, zeroing on your lust filled eyes and the plump of your lips, swollen because of him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Yukhei asks you one last time.

“Yes, please,” you said, pushing yourself back to lightly grind on his length, a little bit of your arousal getting onto his cock, his dick getting so hard it's starting to hurt.

“Ever so eager, aren't you?” Lucas said before biting his lip at the sight.

“Just put it in!” you whined, tired of his teasing.

“Okay, okay,” Yukhei said before bracing himself for your tight walls, he's never nervous when it comes to others, but you? You always held a special place in his heart.

Yukhei spreads your cheeks once more before aligning himself to slip in an inch, eyebrows furrowing at how tight you were, he could tell you were clenching up, just like you did the first time when you were nervous.

So he bends down to your back, placing gentle kisses along your right shoulder blade.

“Don’t tense up, there’s nothing to be nervous about, we did this before remember?” Yukhei said in his most gentle tone ever, you nodded your head at his words, adjusting yourself to let yourself lose in the comfort of his touch, reminding yourself that although it's been a long time since you had someone as big as him, you’ll be fine in his hands.

Once Yukhei felt yourself unclench, he pushes in furthermore, you felt yourself arching your back to allow him to fit himself easier, before he comes to a halt, you felt so full, you haven't felt this way in such a long time, it was somewhat overwhelming, but it's the most complete feeling ever, a feeling you've never felt with any other.

The initial stretch was slightly painful of course, but the pain soon turned into pleasure, and being the gentleman Yukhei is, waited for you despite the huge urge to move, waiting for your green light.

When you told him he could move, he felt like the gates of heaven just opened, pulling out slightly to give you a shallow thrust, just to test the waters.

Even with that experimental thrust, you felt like you had a taste of heaven, eager to drown yourself in this new found pleasure that you were once so familiar with.

Yukhei grasped his large hands onto your hips, setting a moderate pace, still restraining himself from snapping his hips, but from how much slick you were dripping, soon you'd be begging for more.

Once you felt yourself familiarise with his big cock, the pace that Yukhei had set wasn’t enough, you wanted him to let loose, you wanted him to rail you, be damned if you can’t walk tomorrow.

So in the midst of all the pleasure, you let out two desperate words breathlessly, “ruin me”.

Yukhei had to do a double take, pausing his movements entirely just to check if that was his mind messing with him or it was really you, but one look at your desperate face, revealed to him that was in fact your words.

Yukhei allowed the animalistic side of him to take over, holding onto your hips that would sure leave bruises the next day, but you didn’t mind, not when you felt a sudden surge of pleasure coursing through your body. He angled your body higher, arching your back for easier access, thrusting harder and faster.

You could only submit yourself to him as your toes curled and your fingers dig into the linen sheets, you’re sure if his members were next door, they'd be able to hear every single sound you make, the sound of your ass cheeks clapping against Yukhei’s hips and your high pitched moans were flowing freely, but you didn't care, not when this could be the last time you'd ever be with Yukhei.

Soon, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your legs were trying their best not to fail you, and you could tell your arms were getting sore from propping yourself up as the cord in your abdomen threatened to snap, you panted out the word ‘close’, and Yukhei immediately understood, fucking into you at an inhuman pace, you could feel yourself losing your mind as spit drips from your mouth, sanity slowly slipping away from you as you felt your impending orgasm, it started from the tip of your toes, your body convulsing as you screamed his name, succumbing into the pleasure, your core bursting, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt, making your whole body sag in defeat as you let Yukhei help you ride out your orgasm.

Just when you thought it was all over, Yukhei gently flipped you over, and that’s when you realised he hasn’t cum, so you lifted your legs higher to let him enter you once again, he was using you like his personal doll, and you love it a little bit too much to be considered normal, you struggled to keep your eyes open as you fought through the slight pain from the overstimulation, hearing Yukhei’s mumble of appreciation and endearments.

“Can you give me one more, babe? Just one more,” Yukhei said before circling his fingers around your clit, making your eyes snap open when you realise he wants you to cum once more, your hands coming up to push his hand away, but his other hand grasped onto yours.

“Just one more, please,” Yukhei begged with those puppy eyes of his, and how could you say no?

So you stopped struggling, nodding your head at his request before he quickens the pace of his hips and the ministrations on your clit.

Soon, you could feel Yukhei’s cock swelling inside you before he let out a groan of your name, thrusting in one last hard thrust before he painted your walls white, his lips capturing yours to silent you as you came once more, your nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt Yukhei ride out both your highs.

Once he was done, Yukhei crashed onto the bed beside you, his arms wrapping around yours, kissing your lips to distract you as he pulled out, hopping into the attached bathroom to bring out two towels, taking off your skirt before he gently cleans you up, when he was done he wiped the juices you left on him, your eyes growing big when you knew it was from when you squirted on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I squirted,” you mumbled behind the hands that you had covering your embarrassed face.

Yukhei laughed at the cute sight, throwing the towel aside before climbing into bed again, removing your hands away from your face, kissing you deeply before looking at you in the eye.

“I loved it,” he said before pulling you closer, and almost instantly, you were lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart.

When you woke up, Yukhei was still snoring beside you, sleeping like a baby, you gently removed his hand from your waist, stepping out of the bed before gathering your clothes, putting them on, smoothing out the creases of your skirt.

Walking to the door, you glanced around once more at the sight of him, your heavy heart begging you to stay, to talk, and so you walked over to the night stand, ripping a piece of paper of the note pad and grabbing the pen next to it.

‘Goodbye and thank you for everything.’

You placed the piece of paper beside him on his pillow before kissing his forehead as a parting gift, closing the door as softly as you could when you left.

You knew this was the right thing to do, you made this decision once when he left for Korea the first time, you can't be in his way this time around, not when he's this far into his career, you can’t be selfish, he belongs on this path, he deserves it and you’re not going to take it away from him, you've stood on the side-lines all this time, he shed the limelight on you for one night, and that's all you should have, he's better off without you.

Yukhei felt himself grow cold when he couldn't feel the warmth of your body, jerking up to check if you were in the bathroom, only to find the door wide open, the room empty.

That's when he had spotted the piece of paper with your goodbye message, his heart clenching in pain, crashing onto the bed once more.

He didn't know what to expect, you had sent him off once, and now you left him without saying goodbye. He thought he could at least say goodbye.

Pushing his thoughts away, he gathered his things, packing up to leave for Korea.

His members could tell something was terribly off, they thought he was just in it for a casual hook up, but his expression tells otherwise.

The usual cheerful Yukhei was nowhere to be found, which meant Yang Yang and Hendery had to keep the mood light throughout the journey home, everyone knew to not say anything, only speaking when crucial.

It took Yukhei quite a while for him to get back to his goofy self, but even then, Kun, being the most observant one, saw a tightness in his smile, a faraway look in his eyes, whoever he had seen that night must've meant a lot to him, but he dare not to press, he knows Yukhei would open up when he's ready.

It was a normal Tuesday night when he had received a request to face time from you, without thinking much of it, excited to hear from you, he accepted, your beautiful face coming into view as he got comfortable on his bed.

“Hey, this is unexpected,” Yukhei said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yukhei, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, eyes avoiding his.

“Yeah, what's up?” he asked, rubbing his nape, a habit he does whenever he's nervous.

“I'm um, I’m pregnant,” you said, choosing to not beat around the bush.

You could see Yukhei's face pale when he processed your words. Is it his? It's definitely his, it's almost a month since the two of you slept together, unless you slept with someone else?

“It's mine?” a dumb question, but he needs to know for sure.

“Yeah,” you said before the two of you come to a piercing silence.

“You could get an abortion, maybe?” Yukhei suggested after contemplating in his head, there’s no way he could be in the child’s life, and that's the best option for your sake, raising a child in Hong Kong is the most expensive thing to do, equivalent to buying a house there.

“I decided to keep it, Yukhei,” you said, glancing up to see the disbelief on his face.

“You can’t, you know I can't be there for you and you’re still so new in your job, you can't risk your life for this!” Yukhei said, not comprehending on why you'd do this to yourself.

“I already decided, Yukhei, and I don't expect you to take responsibility, this is my choice,” you said as tears threatened to flow.

“That isn't fair, it's not fair for the child! A child needs its father! You don't know what you're doing! Being a single mum is next to impossible in Hong Kong! You're putting the child in a horrible situation just for your selfishness!” Yukhei said before pushing his hair back, the feeling of an impending headache forming.

“How dare you say that?! I’ll raise this child perfectly on my own, I was just calling you to inform you of it, but since you don't want anything to do with it or me, I guess this is goodbye and don't call me anymore, I won't change my mind,” you said before your face disappeared from his phone screen.

Yukhei tried calling you immediately after, a day later, several weeks later, but you never picked up. Then he started stressing about his career, what would happen if someone were to find out? But he knows you as a person, and being a tell-tale is not one of your characteristics, yeah, he can just act like nothing happened, like he had never received this call.

He knows he's running away from his problems, but what other choice does he have?

Fast forwarding to July of 2021, Yukhei is home after his filming of the popular Chinese reality show in China, Keep Running, he feels at ease when he sees his family, finally reuniting with them, but only for a short two weeks time, before he has to leave for Korea once more.

It was a Friday night when his friends from home took him out for a drink, he was not so familiar with the clubbing scene in Hong Kong, but with the knowledge he has of this area, he knows many rich and young people often here, just like the girl kissing up his neck now, her soft hands running up the expanse of his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he wants her to be.

Yet Yukhei doesn’t remember her name, was it Candy? Apple? Some sort of name that had to do with food, he just remembered that she told him that she was an up and coming model, or trying to be anyways.

Just as she suggested to go to some hotel, Yukhei suggested for a quickie in the bathroom first, and so here he is now, being pushed to the door of a stall, her hands trying to unbuckle his belt.

Yukhei reached the back of his pocket for his wallet, opening it, looking for the condom he had placed there, but cursed when he realised he must've dropped it when he paid for drinks.

He told her to go back out and wait for him to get some, leaving the club and the musky smoke filled place behind him, the summer breeze blowing his hair all over, he brings the hood of his jacket up as he scans for a nearby convenience store, locating one at the street across.

When he got in, the scent of curry immediately greeted him, it was your favourite food, everyday after school, no doubt you'll drag him into one of these shops, just to share a bowl of curry fish balls, one of the most famous snacks here in Hong Kong.

He pushed the thought away, trudging to the aisle that was on the most right, where the condoms were at, hidden away from children. He took a box and made his way to the counter, opening his wallet to take out a few notes.

The cashier turned her back from stocking the cigarette shelf, scanning the box wordlessly.

“That would be 30,” she said when she looked up, but her hand immediately dropped the box when she saw who it was, and that's when Yukhei truly opened his eyes to see who it was, at first he was just miffed not knowing why the cashier froze, then he sees you, in the worn out 7 Eleven uniform, was you, the last person he’d be expecting.

“Why are you here? What happened to your job at the law firm? Why...” Yukhei didn't know how to ask, he didn't know if he deserved the right to ask, yet there's so many questions he had swarming in his head. Where is his child? Did you abort it in the end? Did you give it up for adoption? Were you fired from your job because of it?

“It's my shift right now, and you seem to be getting lucky tonight,” you said stiffly, holding up the box for him to see, sliding it across the counter

“It's for my friend actually,” Yukhei said, eyes avoiding yours, but immediately looking at you straight in the eyes, remembering how you use to be able to see right through him whenever he didn't do the revision work you've given him.

“Right,” you said, resisting to roll your eyes.

“You haven't answered me, why are you working here instead of the law firm?” Yukhei pressed.

You sigh at his persistence, not knowing what to say to humour him, so you didn't say anything, getting back to rearranging the shelves.

Yukhei bit his lip, not knowing what to say to you, but a million questions in his head, desperate for answers.

“Please leave if you're done with your purchases,” you said, you had a long day, and the thought of entertaining him was not something you want to add on your plate.

Yukhei looked around the store once more, grabbing a bowl of instant noodles from the shelf before making his way once more to the cashier.

“I’d like to have this here,” Yukhei said before pulling out some spare change from just now.

“Yukhei, what are you trying to do?” you asked in an exasperated tone, there's no point making small talk when there's no way the two of you would ever cross in each other’s lives ever again.

“I'm hungry, I want to eat noodles,” which wasn’t really a lie, all the alcohol he drank before gave him an appetite.

You sighed, turning your back to him, soundlessly waited for the water to boil before pouring it into the cup, sealing the top for it to cook. As you worked, Yukhei was having déjà vu, this was an all too familiar sight, nights at the convenience store studying till late at night in groups, you'd always share noodles with him as you taught him some dumb math formula that no one uses in their life after school.

He takes his bowl of noodles, opting to sit at the place closest to the counter, just looking at you, eating as slow as humanly possible.

When it was around three, you received a call.

“Hello?”

“...”

“You think you have a stomach ache? Celine jia is asleep? Okay, mama’s coming home okay?” you said frantically before shutting off the stove of the food at the counter, running to the back for a pack of meds, depositing some money into the register. You looked at Yukhei, frozen at his seat, cursing at yourself for not going into the back room before picking up the call.

“You need to go, I have something to deal with,” you said as you grabbed your bag, turning off all the switches in one go, making the place pitch black other than the lights from the lamp posts outside.

“Is that my child?” Yukhei asked, he can't allow himself to act like it never happened before, he ran away once, it's time to man up and shoulder on his responsibilities.

“No I fucked another guy before you and it's his child,” you deadpanned.

You walked down the street to flag for a taxi that is always parked there to get their club goer customers, Yukhei hot on your heels, you turned back to look at him questioningly.

“This is none of your concern, don’t follow me,” you said in a rather seething tone, you didn't mean to sound like that, but if he's going to be in the way of your child, then he’s not a friend.

“That's my child too, I want to know how they are, I have a right to do so, you studied law, you should know,” Yukhei retorted in the most friendly way possible, he knows he's in the wrong, but he wants to ensure his child’s safety.

“For fuck’s sake,” you cursed aloud before stepping into the taxi, leaving the door open for him.

You told the driver your address, sitting back to think of what's the problem, the kindergarten shouldn't be the culprit, it's a school with a good reputation, which also burns a hole in your wallet, but you don't mind, and it's not like you have much of a choice, education is deadly expensive here.

About 20 minutes later, you've reached home.

“That'll be 150, miss,” the driver said.

“What?!”

“Fares are different after midnight, miss,” the driver reminded you.

Before you could check if you had enough money on you, Yukhei paid for it wordlessly.

You got out of the car, rushing into the building and running up the stairs as quick as you can, unlocking the door, jabbing the keys into the rusty lock.

Taking off your shoes before you made your way to your room, spotting your son crouched in the corner of your bed, hands around his stomach.

“Hey, mama's home, I'll get you a glass of water to take your medicine okay?” you said before hurrying out, Yukhei passing you a glass of water at the kitchen.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before making your way back inside.

You open the package and passed you son a tablet, but looking at the size, you knew he’d panic to swallow something this big, so you broke it in half, telling him to drink a big gulp of water to wash it down and it'll be fine.

All the while, Yukhei was watching with wonder leaning by the door frame, even in the dim lights and the fact that he's still quite young, he could still identify his eyes on his son, the strong genes in his family, his father and brother all had those eyes, this boy is most definitely his.

The boy diligently does as you told him, taking a big gulp of water, so obedient, and from the way the two of you communicate, very mature for his age, nothing like the usual three year old.

When he was done, he noticed Yukhei’s presence, tugging your sleeve to whisper into your ear, eyes trained on him.

“That's a friend of mine, love, be polite, say hi to Yukhei gogo,” you urged.

Yukhei took this as a sign to get closer to his son, squatting down to meet his eye.

“You’re a handsome boy, what's your name? I’m Yukhei and I’m 22 this year, how about you?” Yukhei asked as he reached out his hand for the little boy to shake.

“I’m Wenghei, 3 years old. Why have I never seen you before gogo?” the child asks, looking at him with curious eyes, he's met some of your friends, but he's definitely haven't met him before, most people aren't as tall here, or not in his mother's circle anyways.

“Get some rest, love,” you said, tucking him into bed.

“Okay,” he said, a yawn coming out from his mouth.

You closed the door behind you, directing Yukhei to the small living room area, serving him a glass of water.

You walked to the trash bin, opening the lid to check its contents, a scowl on your face when you saw the root of your son’s stomach ache when you spot the plastic container that contained the two day old pizza from the freezer. Your roommate, Celine, must’ve gave him some as dinner, usually you'd leave some money for Celine to buy him dinner, but she must've been tight on money again, trying to find ways to squeeze in some spare change, you've warned her of her spending habits, always splurging on albums of her favourite stars, which reminds you.

“You have to go, I’m living with a roommate and I'm sure she's going to recognise you,” you said, a hand gesturing at the door.

“Wait, did you find out why he had a stomach ache?” Yukhei asked.

“Yeah, he ate something he shouldn't have for dinner, you have to go, I need some rest for tomorrow,” you said, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Do you have anything on tomorrow? Can I see you, perhaps?” Yukhei asked, he didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but he just had to see you again.

“I’m tutoring a student at a coffee shop tomorrow, you can come right after,” you said, thinking that he just wants to know more about his son.

“Okay, goodnight then,” Yukhei said awkwardly as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight,” you said, feeling a weight on your chest, dreading tomorrow’s meeting.

When Yukhei arrived at the café, he could see you sitting at the way back, a teenage girl sitting in front of you, back facing him, he sipped on his latte, observing you silently.

Your hair is much longer than it had been in high school, the bag hung by your chair very much worn out, and your eye bags were heavier than on days where Yukhei would stay up to prepare for promotions.

Soon, the student was packing up, leaving the table, Yukhei took this as a sign to move to your table. You had stood up to greet him, and that's when he saw, you had lost lots of weight, and he's not meaning it in a fitness way, he recognised the jeans you are wearing, you had these even back then, they used to be a perfect fit for you, that's why they were your favourite, but now, you were wearing a belt to hold it together, and still he could see how loose it was.

“Hey, you didn't order anything?” Yukhei asked, noting that the cup of coffee he saw just now belonged to your student.

“I got a coffee in my flask, cheaper that way,” you said as you packed up your stationaries.

“What did you have for breakfast? How about I order you a piece of cake?” Yukhei suggested, looking back to see what they have today.

“It's alright, I'm not hungry, why don't we get straight to the point? What is it you want to ask about Wenghei?” you asked, noting the time on your watch, you have to leave around noon to fetch your son from pre school.

“I, how about you? Why did you leave the firm? And how’s your parents?” Yukhei started off.

“Well, they said I would’ve been an embarrassment to the firm, you know, pregnant and unmarried, so they told me to leave, it's not like filing could be done with a big weight in my stomach, so I did as they said. Now I tutor kids English and work the night shift at the convenience store, and as for my parents, they kicked me out,” you said, laying down the cards, no point avoiding his questions, especially not when you're in a hurry.

Yukhei nodded at your words, registering the fact that he had a fault in ruining your hot shot lawyer dreams and completely destroyed your sensitive relationship with your parents, how is he ever going to forgive himself?

“I’m sorry,” Yukhei said, he didn't know what else to say, how could he make it up to you and your son? Will you let him even if he could?

“Don't be, this is on the both of us, are you going to ask about the share custody stuff? If so, I don't think we should continue this conversation, Wenghei doesn’t know who you are, and maybe that's the best case scenario, what point would be made if he knew you were his father but you're not in our lives? It'll break his heart. You've seen him now, maybe you can reconnect with him when he's older, I think you should just say goodbye before you go, if you want,” you said, saying these harsh words aloud wasn’t easy, you’re not entirely a cold hearted bitch, but it's for the best that your son didn’t know about his father, no one wants to know the fact that their father abandoned them twice, some truths are better to be untold.

“Can I see him one last time, maybe tonight? For dinner? I'm leaving in two days,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Yeah, sure, I'll take the shift off tonight,” you said, eyes avoiding his, you could just tell he’d have those sad puppy eyes on his face right now, you don't need anymore guilt in your heart.

“Hey man, where were you?” Jackson asked Yukhei, who was waiting for him at the harbour, they were going to Macau for a day trip today, his friend isn't late for the boat, but they did schedule to meet 15 minutes earlier.

“Something came up, and I need to head back around 7, there’s some people I need to see,” Yukhei said as they boarded the boat.

“So that leaves us 5 hours, should be enough,” Jackson said, checking his watch.

“I’m sorry about this, man, it just came up suddenly,” Yukhei said as they took their seats, apologetic because they have been talking about this trip for a long time now.

“It's okay, dude, but what's up? You look really stressed,” Jackson asked, taking in Yukhei's clenched jaw and furrowed brows, a stark contrast from his usually carefree expression.

“It's a long story,” Yukhei said as he mindlessly watches the sea from the little window of his seat.

“Well, if you don't mind, this is a 45 minutes journey, maybe we'll be able to find a solution together, what are friends for am I right?” Jackson offered, he wouldn't press his friend if he didn't want to tell him about it, but the two of them have been close ever since going on knowing brothers, coming from the same home country and everything.

And so Yukhei, for the first time, told his friend his long love story.

“You know, I think I have a solution for you, but let me ask you one thing first, do you still love her?” Jackson asked as he ate his pork chop bun, Macau’s famous local snack.

Yukhei pondered over his friend’s question, yes the two of you agreed to break up, but all the girls he dated after you, all had similar features or personality traits to you, he had dismissed it as just a type, but now that he had seen you again, he realised that the hole in his heart was always emptied for you, you were the missing puzzle piece all along.

“You don't even have to answer me, your face tells all man,” Jackson said, an oily finger wagging at the direction of his face.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Yukhei said with a sigh, “but even if I still love her, that doesn’t mean she loves me back, and what if we do love each other? We're living oceans apart,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Now here comes my solution, so you said she got fired from her law firm and is now tutoring kids and doing the night shift at 7 E, and got kicked out by her shitty parents, so she really doesn't have anything else here for her other than her son, why don't you suggest get to move with you? To Korea? It'll be way easier for the two of you to raise your son, even if the two of you don't get back together, I mean, at least you'll be able to financially support them, that is what you're willing to do right?” Jackson asked, hoping that his friend would uptake his part of the child support.

“Yeah, of course I want that, I just don't know what she'll say, or if she'd be willing, she doesn't speak the language and it's an entirely different environment,” Yukhei said, thinking back the days where he had a tough time adjusting.

“From what you told me, she sounds like a tough nut, but of course, this is all up to you, but just so you know, I would really like to be his godfather, and as for your doubts of her love towards you, she did name him after you, isn't it the same Hei?” Jackson said with a hearty chuckle, he could just imagine the fun they'll have together, he was always fond of children.

“Yeah, I’ll persuade her on this,” Yukhei said, he could already feel himself getting nervous for tonight’s dinner, it can’t be that much of a coincidence that his son’s last name resembled his right? Or is he and Jackson just being delusional?

“Now that's my buddy, now come on, finish your food so that we’ll make it in time for the next batch of Portuguese egg tarts, I remember they have a fresh batch around 4,” Jackson said, mouth salivating at the thought of more food.

When you arrived at the restaurant, it was fancier than what you had expected, feeling underdressed among the rich elite of Hong Kong in your old dress that you wear for every special occasion.

You asked if there was a reservation under your name, since Yukhei said he had it booked under you, and almost immediately, since not that many people can afford places like these, the waiter led you in.

“Mama, what is this place? We've never ate here before,” your son asked you.

“It's a French cuisine restaurant, we’re meeting gogo here, remember him? Or were you too sick that day?” you said as you placed him on the baby chair you had requested for.

“Yeah, I remember,” your son said as he looks around in awe, registering the pretty chandeliers that look so sparkly.

When the waiter handed you a menu, someone had joined your table, his hoodie pulled up so no one would recognise him, pulling it down when he saw that there wasn't any other customers around.

“Sorry, am I late?” Yukhei asked with a sheepish smile, a hand lifting up to check the time.

“No, we’re just early, say hi to Yukhei gogo, love,” you directed the last part to your son, patting his little hand to get his attention, smiling immediately when he lands on the tall figure.

“Gogo, you're here,” your son said excitedly, making grabby hands at him, letting his father carry him with a large smile on his face.

“Hey, buddy, don't you look excited to see me?” Yukhei said before blowing raspberry at his neck, making the young boy giggle.

What you didn't expect was to see someone coming up behind Yukhei, a little bit shorter and smaller in built, but when he pulled his hoodie down, you instantly recognised who it was.

“Jackson Wang?” you asked, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you were hallucinating.

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you, you look lovely tonight, and you must be little Wenghei, aren't you adorable, how about Jackson gogo take you out to buy toys, huh? I saw a big toy store just across the street, but only if your ma says yes of course,” Jackson said, giving you a side eye to Yukhei.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, it's not like the Jackson Wang is going to kidnap your son right?

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch him with my life,” Jackson said as Yukhei passes his son over to him, leaving the restaurant with his hood up once more.

“Is there something you'd like to say?” you asked Yukhei after he had taken the seat across you his hands were shaking slightly as he holds up the menu.

“I... I still love you. And I know I must sound like a jerk to you, hell I’d go back in time just to hit myself for running away, I'm really sorry for that. What I did was inexcusable, my career just stabilised at that time, and I was under immense stress from SM, you have every right to be mad at me, but I want to be apart of your life again, apart of Wenghei’s life as well, if you could let me have this second chance, I'll do anything to make the both of you happy,” Yukhei said in one breath, reciting what he had practised over and over again with Jackson in the car.

“Yukhei, I,” you were lost for words, you thought you were saying goodbye once more, that Yukhei and you would always end up in goodbyes, but now here he is, saying he loves you.

“Yukhei, you can't just say you love me for the sake of our son, and neither would you need to take responsibility for him, I chose to have him, and as for love, we can never be together, you’re an international super star now, and you're living in Korea, I don't think I have the energy to be in a long distance relationship with you, that would take a toll on Wenghei too, how am I going to explain to him that his father is in another country? He’ll always question your love for him and I don't want that,” you said, trying to hold in the tears that had built up in your eyes, your throat closing up, the cold facade you built for yourself crumbling down before his eyes.

“You can move to Korea, both of you, we can be a family,” Yukhei pleaded, his hands reaching forward to hold yours, his eyes searching yours.

“We can’t, what if we break up? What if your so called love for me, is just something you feel as a result of our child? You can't uproot the two of us when there's so many uncertainties, especially our emotions,” you said, you don't want either of you to be stuck in a relationship for the sake of raising a child, no one would be happy in the end.

“Love, you don't understand, I've never had a serious relationship after you, I tried, I really did, but I’d always think of you instead, how badly I wanted you instead of someone who reminds me of you, the thing is, I’ve always loved you, and I think you still love me too, or you wouldn't have named our son after me, am I right?” Yukhei hoped, why else would you come up with that name right?

Damn it, you thought to yourself, he saw right through you, maybe you shouldn't have named your son after him.

You looked at him and looked away, darn those puppy eyes, you’re sure you’re crying now, and Yukhei reaching over to wipe away your tears just confirmed it.

“I love you, it's always been you, only you,” Yukhei confessed.

“I, I love you too, Yukhei, and I was never mad at you for running away from us, I know how tough that industry is, but what if your fans find out about us?” you asked, slightly worried that he might lose it like last time.

“Then so be it, true fans would stay,” he said in an affirmative tone, reassuring you.

“You promise?” you asked, holding out your pinky, it would’ve been a funny sight to see if anyone saw the two of you now, crying and smiling at the same time.

“I promise,” Yukhei said before hooking his own pinky to connect with yours.

“If you leave us, Wong Yukhei, I’ll murder you in your sleep,” you said as threatening as you could sound.

“I plan to see our son grow up, so I'll value my life,” Yukhei said in utmost sincerity before grabbing a napkin to wipe away all your tears, you’re glad that you didn't wear any mascara today.

Just when Yukhei wiped away the tears in his eyes, Jackson was back with your bubbly child, his arm had bags digging into his flesh.

“Oh my god, that's too much, Wenghei why did you get so many, this is Jackson gogo’s hard earned money,” you said, lecturing your son.

“It's okay, he's an angel, this was all on me, and I guess things went well?” Jackson asked, eyes darting to your connected hands.

“Yeah,” you said, the biggest smile you had on your face.

“That's great to hear, I always wanted to be an uncle, now if you’ll excuse me, I don't think I should crash this family reunion any longer,” Jackson said giving his best friend a hug before leaving.

“So... What do you like to eat Wenghei? How about we get crème brulé,” Yukhei asked, pointing at the menu with childlike eyes, reminding you of the days where he’d get ice cream with you, splitting it on half for you to share.

“Sounds delicious.”

You let Yukhei order everything, sharing between the three of you while the three of you talked, Yukhei mostly directed the questions at his child, asking about his interests, his favourites of everything, ranging from colour to ice cream, eager to make up for loss time.

“How about we talk about where you'll be staying?” Yukhei asked after ordering dessert.

“Oh, I don't know what I'll be able to afford, I'll probably get another convenience store job again, so the rent can't be too high,” you said, dreading the thought of needing to learn a new language quickly for a job.

“Hey, you don't need to work anymore, nor pay rent, I already looked it up, there's an empty unit in our condo, the soundproofing might be a bit lacking, but that wouldn't be a problem if you don't sing in the shower like Dejun, we had a few noise complaints because of him,” Yukhei said, laughing at the fond times he had at the dorms.

“Yukhei, I know housing is really expensive there, are you sure you want to do this?” you asked once more, you don't want him to resent the financial burden the two of you would add onto him.

“What did I say to you just now? I said what I meant, I want the two of you to be in my life, forever. And don't worry about money, I saved up plenty and there’s many more jobs coming up for me, and moving out of the dorms would be the next step of adulthood to me, and we’ll get to spend so much more time together, right Wenghei?” Yukhei asked, pinching your son’s chubby cheeks teasingly.

“We’ll be living together, Yukhei gogo?” your son asked, a confused expression on his face, he had his attention trained on some pink fong video, something about dinosaurs.

“Yeah, Wenghei, we’ll be moving out of our little room, are you excited? We're going to a new country. Remember the dramas I watched with you? Korea has that big outdoor theme park you said you always wanted to go, and snow, you'll get to make snowmen during the winter,” you persuaded, hoping he won’t fuss too much about the move.

“Really? There’s snow in Korea?” your son asked, excited about the winter scene he’ll get finally see in real life.

“Yeah, real snow, not the bubbles in Disney land, are you excited?”

“Yeah, is Jackson gogo going to stay with us too?” your son asked, eyes darting to his new goodies before looking at you expectantly.

“Well, Jackson gogo has his own house and we have ours, but we can always visit him,” Yukhei explained.

“Hehe, okay,” your son said before getting distracted by the crème brulé set in front of him, digging in immediately.

“When do you want us to make the move?” you asked, thinking of all the things you have to pack, which isn't a lot, but you might have to courier some of your clothes over first.

“Whenever you want, I'll get our home ready as soon as possible, is there anything you need in the house? Other than the basics of course,” Yukhei asked, uncertain of any needs you have as a woman or maybe for your son.

“Can we have a study room for Wenghei? With a desk and shelves? We love to read, and he'll need a proper desk when he's older,” you asked, hoping it wasn't too much.

“Yeah, sure, I'll be sure to get it done,” Yukhei said, noting it down into his phone.

“But it's no rush on the study room part, he's just three after all, before I go, I have to apply visas for both of us,” you said, dreading the thought of filling up paperwork, you haven't done much of that ever since you left the law firm.

“Call me if you need any help on that, I'm sure my manager knows how to,” Yukhei said.

“You’re going to tell your company about us?” you asked, knowing how strict Korean entertainment companies are.

“They can't let me go just because of having my own family, they didn't let Jongdae, my senior, go, so we’ll be fine, I promise,” Yukhei said, reaching a hand over to hold yours reassuringly, his eyes looking into yours, filled with love and adoration.

“Okay, now how about we walk around the complex until 10? Wenghei doesn't have school tomorrow,” you suggested.

“Yeah, sure, we could even stay out later if you want,” Yukhei said enthusiastically, getting up slightly to call for the bill.

“You have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you reminded him in your motherly voice, which you regretted almost instantly, cursing yourself, reminding yourself to act more like an actual 22 year old, but Yukhei didn't say anything about it, hiding his smile by nodding deeply, almost like a bow.

“Okay, I just wanted to spend more time with the two of you,” Yukhei said, stopping when he saw the waiter coming back with the credit card machine, paying with just a glance at the bill.

The three of you spent your remaining time shopping and at the arcade, playing games with your son, Yukhei had insisted on getting you a new pair of sneakers, but you shot him down when he wanted to buy more stuff, especially toys for Wenghei.

“You can buy him toys when we’re there, it'll cost even more to ship more stuff over, and there's a risk of damaging the toys as well,” you said.

But of course your son threw a fit at the shop, all for some legos.

“Hey, buddy, I'll buy you lots the next time I see you, okay? I'll buy you one that's even bigger than this,” Yukhei said, squatting down next to his son, and even then he wasn't eye level with him, sometimes you forget how tall Yukhei actually is until you see a scene like this, or when you stand really close to him.

When it was 10pm, painful goodbyes were exchanged with a promise of face timing everyday, your son cried, and held onto his father dearly, and you haven't even told him Yukhei was his dad, but their bond is evident.

Yukhei held onto you and your son until his taxi came, and you waved until you couldn't see the taillights.

It's been a month since that fateful reunion, and Yukhei has squeezed in face times, calls, and texts in between schedules, giving you and your son time despite his busy career.

His company wasn’t too happy about it of course, but was somewhat glad that you weren't one to babble your business to gossip outlets.

You're now packing your things, one last time, you've been to the post office multiple times before to courier out your stuff to Korea, and every time a box reached his address, Yukhei would take a photo of it, telling you the stuff arrived safely.

Progress on your new home was quick, since it was already a fully furnished unit, Yukhei only needed to buy some furniture and things that cater to your son’s needs, he even picked out a pre school that teaches mandarin, perfect for your son’s adjustment in such a foreign country.

Tomorrow you'd be flying to Korea, a new country, a new start, but there was something clouding your mind, something you've been dreading, but today is the day you’ll tell him.

“Wenghei, can you come to mama for a second?” you asked, soon hearing your son’s tiny footsteps nearing you.

“Yes, mama?” your son asked, a hand around his precious teddy.

“There's something I need to tell you,” you said holding him close to you, letting him sit onto your lap.

“Remember how you asked me why you didn't have a baba while all your other classmates did?” you asked, trying to word it as nicely as possible.

“You said my baba had a really big responsibility, that he couldn't see us because of it, that he'll come back when he's free,” your son answered you, struggling to remember more details.

“Yes, good job, Wenghei, your memorising skills are getting better. Well, your baba is actually Yukhei gogo, he’s back now, and we can finally be a family again,” you said before holding in a breath, not knowing how he’ll react.

“Baba is Yukhei gogo? That's why we’re going to Korea?” your son asked, confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, do you like that he's your baba?” you asked, this could be the most important question ever.

“Yeah, mama, do you love baba? Does baba love you as much as I do?” your son asked, which very much surprised you, but expecting this sort of maturity from him.

“Yes, we love each other, and both of us love you as much too,” you said with a pinch of his chubby cheeks.

“Do we ever have to be separated from baba again?” your son asked, scared of losing his newfound father.

“No, never again, and can you do me one favour, Wenghei? I think the next time when you see your baba, you should run up to him and say hi baba, he’ll be very happy to hear you call him that,” you suggested, imagining the look on Yukhei’s face.

Your son giggled at the thought of making his father happy, agreeing immediately.

“Okay, now go to sleep, it's going to be your first time flying tomorrow,” you said, ushering him onto the bed.

“Okay, goodnight, mama,” your son said to you, just like he did every other night, he seemed to have accepted it very easily, maybe it was due to his age, but some day he might ask his father about his departure personally when he understands more, but that’s a hardship that’s reserved for another day.

The flight was relatively short, though it was rather hard for Wenghei at the start because of the pressure he had experienced in his ears, the crying and whining got you plenty of dirty looks from passengers around you, but you paid no mind to it, you’ve been through worst so this is nothing that can faze you.

When you got there, you saw a lady holding up a plaque with your name on it, her phone in her hand, checking all the moms who came out of the same lane as you.

She had a friendly smile on her face when she saw you, introducing herself in mandarin, being one of Wayv’s staff, a trusted one, according to Yukhei.

She talked to you about Yukhei in general, even giving your son a bar of mini KitKat, praising him for being brave on the flight after she had asked you how was your flight.

Around half an hour later, you've reached your new home, a nice looking condominium that looked about a few years old.

Unloading took quite some time, even with the help of the staff, but what surprised you was the person who was waiting for you inside the lobby.

“You're here!” you said surprised at the sight of the giant.

“Yeah, I am, wanted to give you a surprise, sorry I couldn't be outside, some crazy fans camp outside, can’t let them bring you and Wenghei any harm,” Yukhei said as he carried Wenghei, spinning in a small circle, looking at him with full of love.

“I understand, don't worry, I'm not a teenager girl anymore,” you said as you checked out the place, the sitting area had a couch set and free WiFi, this is a 180 from the living conditions in Hong Kong.

“Baba, did you miss me?” your son asked when he had stopped giggling from his father’s spins, which instantly ceased to a halt, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

“What did you call me? Say it again,” Yukhei said with the biggest smile on his face, all of his teeth were showing.

“Mama said you were my Baba,” Wenghei said like it was as simple as two plus two.

“Yeah... I am your baba, and you're my son,” Yukhei said before holding his son even closer, you could even see the tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Why don't we go see our new home Wenghei?” you suggested, seeing that some people have came out from the lifts, typical going to work hours.

You walked a feet away from Yukhei, not wanting to draw attention, holding onto the lift for Yukhei to bring all your luggage in.

Once you were at your level, you started loosening up, noticing that no one was around.

“This is my members’ unit,” Yukhei said pointing at a door, “And this is ours,” Yukhei said before opening the door for you, welcoming you into a warmly decorated home, every piece of furniture was placed and chose to accommodate your child, all the corners were covered with this e rubber safety stickers.

He showed you into Wenghei's room where the bed had all his favourite characters in the form of a plushie, his bed was soft when you sat down on it, and the blanket he had picked out was a soft fleece material, perfect for the cold weather.

Your son was going around every corner, awing at everything his father had gotten him, especially the Lego sets that were on his desk.

“Thank you, it's beautiful, his room,” you said when Yukhei wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, god how much you've missed his warmth.

“Go take a look at your room,” Yukhei said before pulling your hand into the direction of the master bedroom, welcoming you into a room with a king size bed and silk linen sheets, an aesthetic looking vanity that you've always wanted as a teenager, now as well of course, and a little reading corner just for you by the window.

“It's all I've ever wanted,” you said in disbelief, not knowing how could Yukhei pull this off in such a short time.

“You like it? I got some help from my members, especially Kun for the kitchen, you should check it out afterwards, you always wanted a big kitchen area,” Yukhei said as you laid on the bed, giving your stiff body a rest from the journey.

“Lay down with me for a while, I’m a bit tired from the flight,” you said, making grabby hands at him.

“Nah, I shouldn’t, this is your bed,” Yukhei said, looking flustered.

“Wong Yukhei, I’ve had your child and now you're acting all innocent?” you asked in an accusing tone, playing with him, which made him lay down next to you immediately, he didn't like getting you angry, thinking back all those days when you had lectured him just like that when he forgot to do his homework.

“You want me to sleep here?” Yukhei asked carefully, observing your expressions.

“This is our bedroom, where else do you want to sleep?” you asked, but was promptly cut off by Yukhei's lips on yours, smiling as he kissed you, gentle but expressing all his love for you, a hand lingering on your back, guiding you closer than him.

Many mistakes that had to be made had guided you here, but you've never regretted, for if it wasn't for the hardships and the crossroads, you wouldn't have found a home with the man you'll cross oceans for.

The end.

#lucas smut #lucas fluff #lucas wong #wong yukhei #wayv smut #wayv fluff #nct #nct smut #nct fluff #wayv #this is rather cliche sorry

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drspencerweed · 3 years

Text

Dear Spence - Night 4

spencer reid x fem!reader

series masterlist

masterlist

fic summary: Going undercover as serial killer bait was simple. Going undercover as serial killer bait three months after being kidnapped was not so simple. Going undercover with the love of my life and having to pretend to be in love with him while also pretending I was pretending was….well it was about as complicated as it sounds.

chapter summary: No secret can be kept forever.

Chapter Word Count: 2.2k

Content: Rated M (16+) fem!reader, mentions of past kidnapping, trauma responses, nightmares, descriptions of past kidnapping, canon-typical violence, fake relationship, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, only one bed trope

tw for this chapter: descriptions of a panic attack, discussion of the immediate aftermath of a kindnapping

read on ao3

[Prologue] [Night 1] [Night 2] [Night 3]

The entire day had been bliss. Compared to the night before, where my mind was plagued with fear and anxiety, I spent the day following on cloud nine. I woke up in Spencer’s arms, and for the second time we remained wrapped in each other for a few minutes before getting up to start the day. I spent the day finishing his annotated version of Perks of Being a Wallflower, only interrupted periodically by Spencer pulling me away to cook together or dance in the kitchen or play a card game.

It was like I was living in a fantasy world. I was amazed at how easily I forgot the truth, the reason we were here. How easily I put it out of my mind so these days with Spencer would feel untainted. He had that ability- to make me forget everything outside of his attention on me.

Now I was sitting up in bed, finally on the last pages of the book, while Spencer got ready in the bathroom. When he emerged, I was just finishing up the last page. I finally closed the book as he slipped into bed next to me.

“So?” He asked.

“Your thoughts were really interesting. The way you interpreted Charlie’s letters as if they were to himself, in self reflection? I had never thought of it that way before.”

Spencer blushed, “Well, I don’t know for sure, of course-”

“No one does! I love that theory. Personally I subscribe to the belief that they were to someone he lost.” I explained. “I also noticed you underlined my favorite quote. ‘We accept the love we think we deserve.’ Which is like, everyone’s favorite quote, to be fair.”

“It’s a good quote. And I think it rings true, for most people.”

“What was your favorite quote?” I asked. He had underlined and commented on plenty of them, but I was curious which one had stuck out the most in his wonderful mind.

“There are a lot that were poignant.” He nodded down at the duvet, not making eye contact with me. I wanted to reach out and hold his twisting hand, but I didn’t think we had crossed that line yet. Cuddling before bed and in the morning was one thing, random touches that could be misconstrued were another. “But I think-uhm. Well, the one coming to mind is ‘It's just that I don't want to be somebody's crush. If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am.’”

My heart ached, and I wanted desperately to grab him by the shoulders and shout I do! I like you for you! In fact, I love you for it! I remembered what came next, as well. “‘And I don't want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it too.’” I finished the quote.

Spencer locked eyes with me at that comment. “Yea that part-I struggled with that part.” He admitted. I swallowed down my guilt as I thought about my love for him, that I kept so selfishly to myself.

“W-Why?” I ventured to ask. His eyes boring into mine made it hard to speak.

“Well, I guess I agree with it but I’ve never been, uhm. The best at expressing my emotions. So it would be a little- hypocritical, I suppose.” He chuckled softly at the end of his confession, his eyes dropping by to the bed again. “I-I’ve had feelings for someone. For a while. But I haven’t told them, so I don’t really have room to complain, do I?”

He said the words so casually, so plainly, as if they didn’t rip open my chest and stab me in the heart. As if each of those words weren’t an individual twist in my abdomen, as if the idea of him loving someone else didn’t make me want to vomit. Luckily his eyes were glued to the bed, so he didn’t have the chance to analyze my microexpressions. There was no way I had contained my reaction well enough. The heartbreak must’ve been written plain as day on my face.

After what was probably too long of a pause, I forced out a chuckle. “Yea, I guess that’s fair.” I swallowed tightly and scrambled for a way out. He looked up at me and my heart began to race, terrified of giving myself away. “I, uhm. Just gonna hop in the shower.”

I hurried out of bed, grabbing my pajamas and rushing into the bathroom. Once the door was shut I placed my clothes on the lid of the toilet, and then ran my fingers through my hair, tugging lightly at the strands. I took a deep breath and gathered myself, brushing my hair back and looking in the mirror. Three more days, I reminded myself, repeating it like a mantra. I only had to make it three more days.

The shower turned on hot, still warm from Spencer’s shower earlier. As I was about to strip down, I realized I forgot my towel. I stepped out, planning to grab my towel quickly and get back to my shower, but stopped in my tracks as soon as I opened the door.

Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed, on my side, my letter in his hands.

Instinct kicked in faster than I expected, and I ran over and ripped the letter out of his hands. “What are you doing?!” I shouted, gripping the letter tight to my chest. Spencer seemed frozen. “Th-That’s private.” I stuttered, getting my voice down to a regular level again. My mind began racing, trying to work out what to say, how to explain. I braced myself for the inevitable rejection while I tried to think of a way not to compromise the mission.

“I’m sorry, I just-” He cut himself off, coughing into his hand to clear his throat. “I was looking for the case file, and that was in the drawer, and it had my name on it.” He didn’t offer any further explanation, and I couldn’t find it in myself to be mad at him, even though I still felt a distinct ache of betrayal.

“You weren’t-No one was supposed to see this. Ever.” I admitted looking down at the words as they blurred from the tears in my eyes.

“You said-You said that he didn’t make you. That we got there before-”

“I lied. I just- I knew it would be submitted to evidence, and I didn’t-” I choked on the words, thinking about that day. About the hours after I was rescued that I spent in the back of an ambulance, and then in an interview room, this piece of paper pressed between the underwire of my bra and the skin of my chest. My body started shaking, tremors starting at my hands as I tried to chase the memories away.

That whole day Spencer was right by my side, his fingers laced through mine. I was in a daze, too out of it to be grateful for the contact. He drove me home, too, and slept on my couch when I timidly asked him to stay. It was the first time I had asked him, the first time my need for him to be there outweighed my fear of it being too revealing.

Before I knew what was happening I was sitting on the floor, my chin pressed tight to my chest and my arms wrapped tightly around my legs. I tried to get my breathing under control, inhaling deeply but my chest was too tight and I couldn’t get a full breath in. Blood rushed through my ears, the world turned blurry, and then-

“Hey, hey.” Spencer’s voice cut through the chaos, his warm hands gently reaching out to hold onto my forearm, pulling me out of the pretzel I had wrapped myself into. “Look at me.” He whispered. I willed my eyes to raise, locking eyes with him. He was kneeling across from me on the floor, hands now holding my own gently. “You’re here. You’re safe.” He said seriously. I nodded, closing my eyes and dropping my head back, breathing deeply until it felt normal again.

As the adrenalin in my bloodstream dwindled, my body sagged with exhaustion. Tears pricked my eyes in embarrassment, pulling my hands away from Spencer to press them into my eyes. Here he was, comforting me, despite knowing how I felt. Knowing how I had been using him this week. It was proof he was too good for me. I took a shaky breath, trying not to let myself panic again. He probably just pitied me.

When I had gathered myself enough, I sniffled and looked back at him. He had settled onto the ground, his back against the bed, looking at me with such concern. I picked up the letter from the ground where it had fallen when I broke down. I scanned it, as if I didn’t have the whole thing memorized. At the thought I remembered - Spencer also had it memorized now. He knew every word by heart the second he laid eyes on it. The thought made my breath hitch again.

“I never-” I swallowed tightly. “I never wanted you to read this.”

Spencer was quiet for a long time. I didn’t dare look up, terrified to see the look of pity that was sure to be present before he rejected me for good. I will love you endlessly, Spencer Reid. If only it wasn’t so true.

“At least you didn’t write your secret.” Spencer finally said. My eyes snapped to him, my brow furrowing. He was clearly upset, but trying to pretend it was a good thing. “Although I-I wish you would tell me.”

I realized all at once that he hadn’t understood the letter at all. He thought that I had gotten cut off. He couldn’t even imagine me confessing my love to him. He probably couldn’t even think of me in a romantic sense. I wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than outright rejection.

“I can’t.” I said quietly.

Spencer bit his lip harshly, wringing his hands together in his lap. “Why not? You know I would never judge you.”

“It’s not-It’s not important.” I folded the letter, going to stand up. A hand on my ankle stopped me, Spencer leaning over to halt my motions.

“[Y/N].” There were words unspoken, a silent plea for me to tell him the meaning behind the letter. I knew that I couldn’t do it though. I couldn’t tell him, watch the realization happen, watch the understanding dawn on his features. I shook my head as I stood, his fingers slipping off of my ankle.

“It’s not important.” I repeated, grabbing my towel and escaping to the bathroom.

I took a long time in the shower. Spencer must have realized I was waiting him out, because eventually he turned out the light and I slipped into the room quietly. When I got in bed, I planned to just drift off, but Spencer wasn’t stupid. His voice softly cut through the darkness.

“[Y/N], I’m sorry. That letter was private, and maybe I shouldn’t have picked it up.” I heard him swallow, and his voice sounded tight. “But no one’s- no one’s ever said those things about me before. And I just wanted to say thank you. And that I’m here if you want to talk.”

I rolled over so I was facing him, and could just barely make out his face in the moonlight that draped over the bed. “You’re welcome, Spencer. Every word of that letter is true. You deserve to hear it more often.”

His face melted and he shimmied closer to me, hands still tucked under his own head. “For the record, I will love you endlessly, too.” He admitted quietly. My heart leaped into my throat. “You’re one of the most amazing people I know, and there’s no one I’d be prouder to have as my best friend.”

My smile must have had a hint of melancholy when I said “Thanks, Spence.” I knew the truth but when he said it like that it hurt. I loved being his best friend, for a long time I was convinced it was all I needed. Maybe one day I could get back there, and be around him without feeling like there were knives in my heart.

“You deserve to hear it more often.” He repeated my own words back to me with a small smirk. I rolled my eyes, but he finally reached out and pulled me close. “Just because you’re keeping a secret from me doesn’t mean we don’t get cuddles.” He said almost petulantly.

“Of course, how silly of me.” I caved, resting my head on his chest.

He cradled my head in his hand, fingers dancing in my hair, and just before I fell asleep I swore I felt a brush of his lips on my forehead.

I must’ve been dreaming.

[Night 5]

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fan fiction #spencer reid x you #my post #my writing #dear spence

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everlasting-stories · 3 years

Text

To Feel Again [M]

Genre: light angst, romance

Warnings[!]: smut, penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of adult toys

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Words: 4.4k / One-shot

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Valentine's Day: the day of roses and hearts and chocolates and romantic candlelit dinners. When people proposed marriage and professed undying love.

You sighed, staring unseeing into your bowl of cornflakes as they succumbed to their milky grave and turned to soggy goop. Funny how a date on a calendar could open the pit of despair that lived somewhere near your stomach. It had to be near your stomach. You've been reasonably hungry until you've noticed the date and the pit opened. Your hunger had fallen into it, and the memories and pain rose out of it.

There was a time when this day had been wonderful. Life had been wonderful, you didn't need Valentine's Day, but you celebrated it with reverence and, sometimes, wild abandon.

You knew what love was, what it felt like to love a man and how it felt to lose him. You remembered what he'd said that last morning, how he'd kissed you; how the sun had lit his face as he smiled, promising he'd be back. You also remembered the police, how the sun seemed to dim as they told you the phrases out of courtesy. They were sorry for your loss. They will let you know of details as soon as the investigation on the accident comes to an end.

Since that time, Valentine's Day had passed unheralded, unheeded and uncelebrated. You knew you were a joke of the office - entering thirties soon and never been fucked, that's what they said. The borning woman who had no idea what fun was, wouldn't have known what to do with a man if by some miracle you did catch the attention of one. They were wrong, of course. Not that it was any of their business; it certainly didn't affect your ability to do your job.

If you chose to act and dress your age and spend your evenings quietly, rather than as mutton dressed as lamb in some gaudy nightclub, surely that was your right?

You sighed again, getting up from the table, taking your cereal bowl and dumping the gloop down the sink. A bleak day of petty jibes and pitying looks lay ahead. At least you knew what to expect this year.

Last year had been your first Valentine's Day with this particular company and, therefore, your first with this particular bunch of malicious people - your fellow employees. As front counter receptionist, you were the company's first "public face" and some of your co-workers had decided it didn't look good if that face wasn't surrounded by gifts from admirers on this day.

When the first bunch of anonymous flowers had arrived, you've been flustered, flattered and flabbergasted that anyone would send you flowers. You had hurriedly cleared a space on the counter for them, proudly displaying them, fussing with them to show them off at their best and make them visible from the greatest distance. You kept touching them, moving them slightly, reaffirming they were really there. Your heart sang; someone had noticed you. Maybe he was too shy to reveal himself; maybe he was married and couldn't: your mind was alive with questions, trying to solve the mystery of their origin. You were all in all happy.

Then a large box of chocolates arrived, closely followed by more flowers. By lunchtime, these had been joined by a little plush cherub, two red plush love hearts, a pair of earrings, three more bunches of flowers, four assorted boxes of chocolates and a large jar of candy hearts. They all carried the same anonymous message. And you knew then and there what is the catch behind this.

By the end of the day there were nine flower arrangements, ten boxes of chocolates, three cherubs, the two red love hearts, three teddy bears, two jars of candy, the earrings and a gift box containing four pairs of edible undies. Just before the close of business the final humiliation came - a fantastically wrapped see through box containing an inflatable male doll with vibrating tongue, a massive purple vibrating dildo and a copy of the Sex for The Beginners book.

You had to stay at your post until the last visitor or client left. But the rest of the staff was already heading out of the building. Some boggled at your desk, some snickered, a couple made loud crass comments and a very few had appeared horrified at the pile of stuff surrounding yourself. The building had almost emptied before that last visitor departed. You were sure that, too, was a set-up, particularly when you saw it was the client that had been visiting quite frequently lately.

Myungsoo ushered the man to the street and turned back to you as you gathered your coat and handbag, ready to escape.

"Gee, you're a popular girl. Who would have thought?" He reached your counter and began collecting up the flowers, grinning madly. "Let me help you with all that."

Before you could say a word, he bundled all the flowers, chocolates and assorted other items into your arms. You could barely see where you were going. Myungsoo put his arm around your back and shepherded you out the door, peeking at the vibrator in its transparent box. "There you go, sweetheart. Looks like you're definitely gonna get some action tonight." He turned smartly away, laughing as he rapidly put distance between the two of you.

You obviously had thrown the whole lot in the nearest dumpster and hurried to the relative sanctuary of your car before breaking down and sobbing, burying your head in your hands to hide from prying eyes of curious passer-bys.

Standing at your kitchen sink, you wondered what they'd pull this year. It couldn't be worse, could it? You sighed again and then abruptly shook your head, standing straighter. To hell with it - you were not going to let them get to you today.

It had already begun when you arrived. A bouquet of irises sat at the front of the counter. You were tempted to throw them straight in the garbage, but decided they were too pretty, too unusual. So they stayed. Curiosity got the better of you as you looked at the card, expecting it to say something sappy and insincere, as last year's cards had.

"You are worth far more than they will ever realise. Hear the flowers."

You pondered the card. Hear the flowers?

What on earth did that mean? You raised an eyebrow as you settled into your post: at least it seemed this year would be more intriguing than last. During quiet moments throughout the morning, you'd pick up the card, reread the cryptic message and study the beautiful bouquet, but its secret was never revealed.

No gifts arrived for you, no more flowers. You were relieved, but it only served to deepen the mystery of the flowers. As your lunch hour approached, other staff began filtering out of their offices to take a break. They all noticed the irises. Several of the women stopped and commented on their beauty. No one laughed.

As always, you left the building for lunch. You would usually grab a sandwich somewhere and do a bit of window shopping. Anything to get away for an hour - if you stayed in the office, someone always "needed" you for something.

When you returned, a neatly typed page was on your desk: "The meaning of flowers". One line was highlighted in blue: "Iris: Have Faith. Don't Give Up On Hope." A single purple violet was pinned to the page. You scanned the page to find "Violet (Purple): You occupy my thoughts". You put the page to one side, but still in view, unsure whether to laugh at it and throw it along with the flowers away before the punch line or wait it out. This was definitely a far more sophisticated assault than last year.

Throughout the afternoon a steady procession of couriers arrived, carrying flowers and gifts. You nervously watched each one approach your counter, only to breathe a sigh of relief as the teddy bears and hearts, the chocolates and flowers were all destined for other souls.

At 4:30PM a man approached your station: nothing unusual in that; everyone that came to see someone had to check in with you. What was unusual was that he actually saw you as a fellow human, not a robot programmed to take names and give directions. He smiled at you, a real smile that reached his eyes and warmed your heart. Something familiar in his eyes...

"Good afternoon. My name is Kim Doyoung. I have an appointment to speak to Choi Myungsoo. Would you mind letting him know I am here, please?"

Quickly, you dialled Myungsoo's extension, giving him the information. Myungsoo, as usual was brusque to the point of rude, telling you to "entertain the idiot 'till I'm ready for him - he's not supposed to be here for another 15 minutes".

You were tempted to tell the polite gentleman exactly what Myungsoo had said, but instead used your tact and diplomacy (that was why you were hired after all) to tell him that "Mr. Choi is a little delayed. He will be available in a few minutes."

With that being said, you offered him a seat.

Again he smiled. "Those are beautiful flowers," he said, nodding towards the iris bouquet. "A discerning choice for a lovely lady."

You lowered your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your face, knowing you were blushing.

His voice softened and became much quieter. "You don't remember me, do you?" Your eyes flew to his face, confused. Were you supposed to know this charming man?

"I had an appointment here at the same time, on this day last year. I was waiting outside for a taxi when you left. That was uncalled for, the whole situation that happened - mean and heartless and exactly what I would expect of Myungsoo and his friends. I deal with them only because I must. They offer a service unparalleled in this town."

He leaned across the counter, his voice so low only you could hear. "How they manage it, I cannot tell. They are pig swill and don't know a pearl when confronted with one." Doyoung paused, seeming to weigh up his next statement, then leaned closer to you. "Did you hear the flowers?"

Your eyes again flew to his face, your mouth falling open a little. "You sent them?"

"I did. And the violet. I had hoped to counter whatever crass display they had planned this year. Would you possibly consider spending the evening with me?" His face was eager, hopeful. "A nice dinner?"

You were stunned, flattered, amazed - but also wary. This was Myungsoo's client. He could easily have been put up to this. You studied his face closely, seeking any hint of a lurking cad. His face fell. "But, of course, you have other plans. I apologise for embarrassing you." He moved away and sat, abashed, on one of the hideous lounge chairs to await his appointment.

You studied this man. He didn't seem to fit the mould of Myungsoo's usual cohorts. For one thing he was unerringly polite. He was also good looking, very, very good looking, without being outstanding or flashy. He was also much closer to your age than Myungsoo's and had an air of quiet confidence, like he had nothing to prove to anyone and nothing to fear from them either. You looked at the flowers. Could Myungsoo have possibly thought of something this elegant? You didn't think so. You took a deep breath: to hell with it.

"Mr. Kim?" He looked up. "What time would you like to pick me up?"

In your bedroom, staring at the clothes hanging limply in your closet, the cool bravado that had claimed you as you agreed to the date vanished. In its place indecision, doubt and outright terror took hold. It seemed painfully obvious to you now, away from the office and that lovely man, that it was all another twisted joke, something for the office beautiful people to laugh at during tomorrow's coffee breaks. Why did you say yes? Your wardrobe was woefully inadequate. It was years since you'd been out with a man; you were bound to make a fool of yourself, even if it wasn't a set-up.

At that thought your heart jumped and lurched. The possibility that Mr. Kim - no, Doyoung; this was a date not a business appointment - was sincere in his wish to take you out only heightened your confusion and indecision.

Finally, in desperation and the realisation that if you didn't decide soon, you'd still be in your underwear when he arrived; you chose a chanel-knee length cremé skirt and baby pink cashmere sweater, topped off with knee length boots. The heels were quite high, but you remembered him being tall, so that wouldn't be an issue, as long as you didn't fall over in them.

You were saved from an overcritical examination in the mirror. You had just completed applying your makeup when Doyoung arrived. You grabbed your coat and quickly walked out the door, before you had time to rethink and back out.

"You look lovely," Doyoung said, smiling down at you. Feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks; you weren't used to receiving compliments, particularly from someone like him. You mumbled a shy thanks as he helped you put on your coat and led you to his car.

Sitting in the car as he drove, you were able to study the mysterious man that is Kim Doyoung. He was extremely handsome, not in the classical sense, but he certainly was far from a plain looking man - a man at peace with himself. He knew who he was and was content with that; he knew what he wanted and how to get it; and what was beyond his capabilities and lost no sleep over it. He obviously managed quite well; his car was expensive but not too flashy.

The restaurant he took you too was a quiet small place, away from the standard eat-and-entertain strip. It was intimate without claustrophobia; the decor was elegant without being overbearing; the lighting low but not dim; the service attentive without being intrusive. The food you could not describe - later, you barely remembered what you had eaten beyond it being "nice" - your attention was totally taken by Doyoung.

He was gallant and charming; helping you with your coat and holding your chair for you at the intimate table for two tucked away in a corner. Doyoung quietly suggested items on the menu he thought you might like. It was obvious he'd been here before, was a regular, but usually without company. His choice of wine was perfect to go with the excellent food as you enjoyed each other's company.

And you talked.

You learned a lot about him. Doyoung was 34, older than you had thought; he had been engaged, but his fiancé decided to break off the engagement for simply falling out of love. He had had a series of short term relationships that had petered out and, for the past several years, had lived a solitary life, rarely going out with women. He didn't work as such; his livelihood came from investments, which explained him being a client of the company you worked in. Myungsoo may be a jerk, but he was the one of the best investment brokers around.

He had been attracted to you the first time he met you, a year ago, but had been intimidated by the evidence of all your admirers. When he realised it was all a cruel joke played by his adviser and the other brokers, he was mortified. He had seriously considered changing brokers, going to another organisation but that would have meant he had no chance of meeting you again. So he stayed. He had been in your office on three occasions since then, and each time had seen your quiet, unflappable charm and how your talent and lovely nature were either ignored or taken for granted by those around you. He was determined to gain your attention, but without the office cricus freaks being able to use it against you, hence the mystery flower delivery this morning.

You found yourself opening up to Doyoung. He seemed sincerely interested in hearing what you had to say, hanging on your every word. It was a liberating and wonderfully powerful feeling. You weren't used to being the centre of anyone's attention. You told him of your pride at the independence since the loss of your lover, all those years ago. You were happy in your little home, content with your work, rarely coming to the attention of the office jokers.

It was over coffee that you admitted to Doyoung something you haven't admitted to yourself: your life was lonely and you missed the affection of another person. You missed the companionship of sharing your life with someone.

Immediately after the words had left your lips you regretted them. You have given away too much of yourself, been too forward. You lowered your eyes, not wanting to see the closed expression you knew would be on his face, so you didn't see the fleeting look of pain, quickly followed by understanding and hope.

However, you did feel his hand close over yours and squeeze lightly. You looked up into a face of gentle eyes and soft smile. "Would you like to take a walk with me," he said quietly. "I think it's time we leave - they want to close the restaurant anyway."

You looked around yourself noticing that you two were the only people other than staff left in the restaurant, and many of the lights were dimmed. You gasped in wonder - you had no idea you've been there so long. "Yes, a walk would be lovely."

Doyoung ushered you along the street and across a small, neat park to a promenade along the riverbank. It was enough lit to feel safe and you walked along arm in arm. You felt his arm snake around your waist hugging you closer to him, and you snuggled against him, your arm around his back. The moon was up, the stars were out and the night was peaceful and clear.

Your heart was singing and your eyes sparkled. You've been right to take this gamble. He was sincere, and it was wonderful. But the night was late, and it was rather cold.

You shivered. Doyoung felt it immediately and turned off the promenade proposing to head back toward the street where he had left the car. "I'd better take you home. It wouldn't be much of a date if you ended up ill."

At your door, Doyoung formally thanked you for a lovely evening and asked if he could see you again. You smiled and surprised yourself only a little by reaching up and kissing him lightly on the lips before saying: "Would you like to come in for a nightcap?"

Doyoung blinked, looking mildly bemused for a moment before studying your face. "Are you sure?"

Oh, most definitely, you were sure. You have thought of nothing else since you two have left the river. He looked right, he felt right, and he smelt right. You wanted him but was sure he'd never make a move. He was too much of a gentleman to ever force the issue.

You took his hand and led him into your home, kicking the door closed with your foot, shutting out the rest of the world with its mean people and ugly attitudes. You reached up to kiss him again. This time he lowered his head to yours, cradling your face in his hands as he returned the kiss. The lips met and parted, allowing the tongues to join and caress each other. His hands moved down from your face to caress your body, yours moving up from his hips. Both of you parted, searching each other's faces for confirmation of your desires.

"I think we're on the same page," you said. "Why don't you leave your coat on the couch? Do you want the nightcap now, or after the tour?"

"I'll put a hold on the nightcap," Doyoung answered, reading the desire in your eyes and knowing it was mirrored in his while stripping off the coat.

"Right."

You took his hand again. "This is the lounge. There," you pointed to the right, "is the kitchen and dining room. This way," pulling him down the hall, "is the second bedroom, the bathroom and," dragging him through a doorway, "here is the main bedroom."

"Very nice," he said, looking around, trying not to focus on the bed.

Suddenly shy, you both looked at anything but each other, awkward in a lack of intimate knowledge of each other. Doyoung tentatively reached out a hand to you, aiming to caress your breast, veering off at the last moment to your shoulder, but still lightly brushing your breast with his fingertips. Your gasped breath emboldened him and he reached his other hand, caressing your other breast lightly as you shivered under his touch and sighed.

Your own hands went to his chest, running down the front of his shirt and back up, then beginning to undo the buttons, pulling the shirt from his trousers and teasing his bare skin with your fingers.

Doyoung pulled his shirt off and then raised the sweater over your head and off the arms, moving in to kiss you as his hands went around your back to undo the clasps of a bra and returned to cup your breasts. The sensation on your breasts as he caressed and pinched the nipples sent a sharp message straight between your legs. You could feel yourself becoming moist and shuddered under his touch; breath becoming uneven.

Pushing him away you removed the skirt, letting it pool at your feet while looking into his eyes. Doyoung took the hint and began unbuckling his belt, then grinned foolishly and sat beside you to take off his socks, sneaking kisses of your neck and shoulders as he did so. You both stood again, slightly apart. He dropped his trousers and you could see his briefs pushed out of shape by his erection, the fabric straining.

Doyoung stepped up, taking you in his arms, kissing down your neck and across the collarbone, his hands lowering to your hips, sliding under the elastic and beginning to tug your panties down. Your own hands flew to the top of his briefs. Together, you pulled down the underwear, stepping out of them and standing naked before each other. Again Doyoung moved first, holding you and gently pushing backwards onto the bed, following after you onto it.

He ran one hand down the body of yours, teasing and tickling the beginning of your womanhood and beyond, teasing you with his fingers, tickling across your mound and easing around your damp centre. You moaned as he explored, your hips twisting and twitching. It had been so long since another man had touched you there. It felt amazing, wonderful, but achingly short of what you needed. You could feel his hardness against your thigh. Reaching down, you took his cock into your hand. It was hot, hard and pulsed under your touch. Doyoung groaned and his hips jerked convulsively. You kissed him hard and whispered fiercely, "Please, it's been too long. I need you, now."

"For me too, far too long," Doyoung gasped back, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself before gently splitting your lips and sliding steadily but firmly into you. Your moans were prominent in the air as he stretched and filled you right, not stopping his steady thrust until he was wholly inside you, your warm walls gripping him tightly. Your eyes met and locked as you lay still, immersed in the feeling of each other's body.

Being warm, wet and a safe haven, you were engulfing his cock. Doyoung was filling you with his hard heat, owning your body completely. You fit each other perfectly; you could see it in each other's eyes. You belonged together.

As great as this feeling was, you needed more. Doyoung slowly withdrew, till only the very tip split you. Both groaning as he pushed back in, again slowly feeling each other with delectable inch. Slowly in and out, in and out, revelling in the feeling of each other's bodies, gradually building up speed as your need increased.

You could feel the fire building, the tension increasing as sensation on sensation smashed into you with each thrust, your body twitching, your hips writhing. Still it built; higher, tighter, fiercer. Your entire being was wrapped around Doyoung's cock as it pumped in and out of you. You could hear him grunting with each thrust, feel his body trembling as he got closer to his climax. His speed increased and you breath got caught in your throat, your back arched, legs went stiff as you began to twitch when the white light exploded through you, spreading warmth and scattering your senses.

You felt, from far away but deep within you, Doyoung losing his rhythm before coming, pumping wildly into you, grunting and thrusting hard one last time as he shot deep inside you feeling spent but overly fulfilled.

Your hand was making lazy circles on Doyoung's chest as you lay, curled against his side with a head on his shoulder. You weren't sure how you've come to be in this position, but it felt so right and he smelled so good.

You were at peace while drifting off to sleep.

Waking up without feeling body by your side, you immediately felt the loss. Doyoung wasn't there. Your heart dropped, the pit near your stomach threatened to open and engulf it. Sensing the tears coming up, you accidentally feel something on your side with a hand.

He wasn't there. But there was a note.

"I am so sorry. I hate to leave you, knowing you will wake alone. There is something I must do."

You had just finished reading when the phone rang, disturbing your thoughts. Grudgingly, you moved to answer it. "Hello."

"Wish I was still beside you."

Your heart flipped again. The pit dissolved so you could breathe again before whispering, "Doyoung."

"Y/N. Tell me, what are you planning for breakfast?"

"Uhm. Coffee? Maybe some toast. Why?"

"Don't move. I'm on my way. With breakfast. And it's better than toast."

You lay back in bed, listening to the dial tone after he hung up. Surprised, you smile softly. You must remember to thank Myungsoo for introducing them.

If this is how you will feel loved and feel free to love again, you have no complaints.

Your new chapter is about to begin and hopefully, it will last for a very long time with a man named Kim Doyoung.

#one shot #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct fanfiction #doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung scenarios #doyoung fanfic #doyoung smut #romance #nct romance #nct angst #nct 127 #nct u #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fanfic

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Text

how's your heart after breaking mine?

ts x jolex week 21

day one: fearless - mr. perfectly fine (taylor's verion) (from the vault)

wc: 2.5k

pairing: Jo Wilson/Alex Karev. Alex Karev/Izzie Steven (mentioned)

summary: years after they last saw each other, jo and alex reunite at a conference, and while she is still struggling from her heartache, he seems to be mr. perfectly fine.

rating: general audiences

category: angst.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, alcohol consumption.

A/N: guess who finished this just now? me. that's who. I was actually working on this one long before the announcement for this event came out, but it gave me the motivation to continue this! Alex is unintentionally an ass in this and for that, i’m sorry. Anyways… hope you enjoy! (first part's pretty crappy, but after that it gets better.)

(this was also proofread, like...once, so of there are a plethora of errors i apologize)

____

The absolute last thing Jo wanted right now was to attend a medical conference in Salt Lake City, Utah. There were multiple reasons why she should’ve said no. One; she had just started her second year of her OB GYN residency a few weeks prior, and there were a very limited number of lectures on her new line of study where she was headed. Two; she now held an absolute hatred for the Seattle Tacoma International Airport, since it was the place where her ex-husband stood before her, placed a soft kiss on her lips and promised to see her in a couple of weeks, lying to her face about seeing his mother in Iowa, when in reality he was going to see his ex-wife and kids, never really planning on returning home.

It was ironic really; how not even two years ago, she was standing in front of gate 48, saying goodbye to him, and now she stood in the same spot, in front of the exact same gate, with him nowhere near her side as she glared up at the same exact entrance she last saw him at.

(She also now hated the number forty-eight)

But, since Meredith had been hounding her non-stop about attending this event, she gave in. Because how was she supposed to say no to the woman who had barely survived the pandemic? Along with a plethora of other things she was too lazy to memorize. (The answer was that she couldn’t. She felt guilty for leaving Meredith behind for OB, so she now did whatever her former mentor wanted, even if more than two years had passed) If Meredith Grey asked for something, Meredith Grey got it. She was turning back into the intern who cried fake tears and would do anything to earn her approval, and Jo was not a fan.

“It’ll be good for you Wilson. You need to leave that loft of your’s and go somewhere Wilson, blah blah blah,” she mutters to herself as she shows the attendant her ticket, not even bothering to return the smile, settling on brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear instead. The messy bun on the top of her head bounced in place, and she felt like a college student after a night of studying, but rather than books tucked under her arm it was a neck pillow and a carry-on.

She shuffles into her seat, thankful that it was an aisle one before letting her eyes shut, trying to catch a wink of sleep in an attempt to make up for the less than few hours she had gotten the night before. It proves to be unsuccessful, because the businessman sitting next to her ate his chips so loud she had to restrain herself from coiling into herself every time a chip crunched beneath his teeth, and the toddler behind her continuously managed to kick her seat, no matter how many times his mother told him to stop.

After three hours of loud chewing, seat kicking, and crying babies, she lands in Salt Lake, taking in a deep breath when she finally escapes the crowded airport and is met with humid air. She picks up her rental car, and arrives at her hotel not long after, immediately tossing her bags into the corner and sprawling onto the bed. Eventually, she moves to unpack her clothes and other necessities, casting a glance at the clock which read 10:37.

Taking a look around the room, she decided that nothing more needs to be done; all of her makeup is laid out for the morning, and what she chose to wear is already hanging up in the closet, freshly ironed and wrinkle-free. She yawns, crawling under the covers and flicking off the light, sleep coming easily.

When she wakes up the next morning to her alarm clock going off, she’s freshly rested and in a better mood than she normally was when she had to wake up before nine. The early morning sun beats down onto her face, and she knows that if she wanted to get to the first lecture on time, she needed to start getting ready sooner rather than later.

With a sigh, she begrudgingly gets out of bed, hopping in a quick shower and changing into her clothes. She adds some soft waves to her hair, in the hopes that it made her look more put together than she felt. It didn’t seem that just because she got hours of sleep made up for the fact that she would rather be curled up in the soft sheets of her bed at home than the stiff ones the hotel provided.

It doesn’t take long until she’s arrived in the lobby, where doctors all around her were dressed in firmly pressed suits and skirts. Tables advertising different events throughout the day were lined up and down the hallways, fellow surgeons and mentees passing out little pamphlets with information about their courses littering the pages.

Jo passes by a few stands displaying lectures on the OBGYN field, mentally making a list of the ones she would like to attend.

A quick glance to her watch tells her that the first item on her list was starting soon, and with that she dumps the now-empty coffee cup she had ordered a few minutes prior as a pick-me-up, and shuffles into the seat of the auditorium, the chairs around her filling up quicker than she expects.

It’s only a few minutes later Dr. Maria Cavanaugh steps out onto the stage, silencing the crowd after a round of applause. Jo leans back into her seat, feeling grateful that Meredith had pushed her to go to this conference.

If her whole weekend is spent listening to experts talk and teach about her new specialty, she thinks she’s going to enjoy it.

____

It’s hours and a multitude of lectures later when she exits another grand room, fellow surgeons beside her chatting about the new information they’d acquired. She feels a small smile grace her lips as she realizes that the excited squeals could only come from the med school students that had been invited from the nearby college.

She pulls out her phone, seeing a text from Link and Meredith, both along the lines of that they hoped she arrived safely and that she enjoyed her time away from home. She responds, pocketing her phone and making her way to the hotel bar, settling into one of the few empty seats and ordering a whiskey sour, thanking the bartender when it's placed in front of her not even a minute later.

She sips the drink slowly, feeling some leftover tenseness from sitting all day leave her body as the alcohol starts to flow through her veins. She was far from drunk, but even saying tipsy felt like too much of a stretch.

Pleasantly buzzed, she decides on, taking another sip of her drink, making a brief second of eye contact with a man on the other end of the bar. He raises her glass with a slight nod of his head, and she does the same. She’s tempted to continue; take use of the way the man’s making subtle glances to the seat next to him when her ears pick up another conversion from a few feet away, freezing her in place, glass nearly dropping to the floor.

“Do you want anything?”

“Just a water’s fine. I’m gonna go talk to Dr. Conwell about some of the research her and her team were talking about.”

She turns in her seat, against her better judgment. She watches as he kisses her cheek before leaning against the bar’s counter a few feet away.

She feels as if ice had just been dropped down her back —frozen in place, unable to move as she watches Alex drum his fingers on the dark wood, head nodding along to the soft tune playing through the speakers. He grabs his drinks from the bartender; two waters, one with ice and one without, about to walk towards the woman he was with earlier when he spots her.

“Jo?” he questions, blinking multiple times as if to see if it was really her, and not a trick of the light.

She wants to run when he makes his way over to her. She wants to run, and scream, and throw her drink in his face. But instead, she places a tight, thin smile on her lips and acts as if nothing was wrong.

“Alex, hi!” She turns to face him, her voice too high for her enthusiasm to be true, but if he knows it he doesn’t make any move to show it.

He runs a hand through his hair —it's longer than the last time she saw it, a bit of grey speckled in so lightly that it wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who wasn’t looking.”I uh, I didn't know you’d be here.”

She wants to roll her eyes, but refrains. “Well,” she spins her drink with the straw, watching as the ice cubes clink against the glass “The feeling’s mutual.”

“How are you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and she wants nothing more than to yell at him that he couldn’t talk to her like this —like they were old friends who had lost contact after a while, and were due for a catch up. Because they weren’t old friends. They were so far from friends that someone could build a bridge with the amount of space they had between them.

“Fine,” she lies through her teeth, her heart nearly beating out of her chest in nervousness. She was worried that she was going to break down at any second, spew the words that she had said to Carly in anger at him if he looked at her any longer as if things were okay between them.

“You?” she questions, not interested in the answer, sipping her drink similarly to how she had the night of Bailey’s wedding, the unwelcome memory of the start of their relationship blossoming to the front of her mind.

He sips his water, “Good. I’ve been good.”

With his hand clasped around the glass she catches sight of the pristine, shiny gold ring that sits on his fourth finger, and she has to fight back the growing lump in her throat that threatens to escape.

“Congrats,” she says instead, eyebrows pinched together as she nods towards the ring, a tell that always told whether or not her words rang true.

He seems to have forgotten that, and takes her words as a compliment. He gives her a small smile, “Thanks.”

Jo wants to laugh, because this was so far from the Alex Karev she had known, the man in front of her unfamiliar and so, so different from the one she married years ago. The Alex she knew would’ve never ordered a water instead of a beer, or act as if everything was okay between them when it was so far from it.

He’d changed, and she couldn’t say that she liked it.

“How are the kids?” she asks, and she can tell that she’s surprised him. He looks taken aback for a moment, before smiling gently and reaching into his pocket for his phone. “They’re great,” he says, pulling up a photo of them, the twins smiling brightly into the camera.

“That was at their birthday party last week,” he explains, and she notices the large 7 balloons that are floating in the background.

“He looks like you,” she comments about the boy. He grins, and she wants nothing more than to slap him for not being able to see that she’s so obviously hurting, that her heart is breaking inside of her chest. That she selfishly wants him to say that he made a mistake, that he was in love with her, not Izzie. But her life wasn’t a trashy romance novel, and even if it was, Alex was never one to admit to his faults, his pride and ego too large to have it bruised in such a way.

She had always wondered what he had been up to after he had left. If he was okay. She’d imagined different futures for him, some including Izzie and the kids, some of them not. She’s even naively envisioned ones with her and the children they had always talked about having one day.

Somedays, when she was feeling worse for wear, she had wished that he was miserable —that he and Izzie weren’t together and as far as they went communication-wise was a phone call to see who had the kids that week; that he was as alone and bitter as she was.

But instead, here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. The man who had looked her in the eyes and told her he would never go away.

Here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. Married to the woman he had left her for, a shiny gold ring on his finger instead of neat, polished wood.

For the past two years she’d been picking up the pieces of herself that he had shattered and left behind, only just starting to put herself back together, and here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. While she was piecing together her shattered heart, he was picking up her, the woman he had left her for.

She had thought that he was different from the rest; different from everyone who had ever left her. But he wasn’t —the man she had thought was so different was so exactly the same as everyone else.

“I’m sorry, Jo.” he says, and she has the urge to laugh —laugh because he wasn’t sorry, she could tell. He was sorry that he left her and caused her pain, sure. But he wasn’t sorry that he had done it, that he had married Izzie again and lived with her and his kids on a farm in the middle of Kansas. He wasn’t sorry about that at all.

Mr. Insincere Apology so he didn’t look like the bad guy.

She acts as if she believes him, giving him another tight smile, and lies through her teeth once more. “It’s fine Alex. It’s in the past.”

Jo checks phone, making a face when she ‘realizes’ the time, eager to get out of there as soon as she could. “I need to go, early morning,” she fibs, and she internally rolls her eyes at how he believes her. While he seemed to have forgotten everything about her, she still remembers every detail about him.

“It was nice seeing you again Jo,” he’s playing with the sleeves of his jacket and his eyes meet hers, and for less than a second it’s almost enough to break her resolve.

Another tight smile graces her lips, and she begins to walk away when her body fights her mind and she finds herself leaning down, her lips against his ear.

“I’m glad it was worth it, Alex.”

Her voice is harsh and bitter, yet broken, and she doesn’t need to look at him to know that his face has fallen, and he’s realized that everything she’d told him that night was a lie. She turns and lets the tears fall silently, making her way back up to her room with a head full of thoughts about her ex-husband, about Alex Karev.

About Mr. Perfectly Fine.

____

@thejolexgroupchat #tsjolexweek21

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hongism · 4 years

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the little things - k. hongjoong

↣ pairing: hongjoong x reader; ft. seonghwa, san, mentioned poly ot8 x reader ↣ genre: sfw, fluff, slight angst, fantasy au, witch ateez au ↣ wc: 3.8k ↣ summary: a job doesn’t go as planned for hongjoong, and you’re left to pick up the pieces ↣ warnings: mentioned illness and death

Hongjoong arguably has the hardest job out of anyone in the coven. You are well aware of that, and the pressure he feels from being the leader of the coven doesn’t help one bit, especially since the majority of the public eye’s judgment falls on his shoulders. He would never admit it out loud, but that pains him quite a bit, even if he is willing to take the judgment of others so his coven doesn’t have to. Seonghwa helps in those moments of weakness, lulling Hongjoong to sleep with a quick spell or trying a myriad of other things to calm the man, but it must be worse than usual for Seonghwa to call on you to help with the issue.

Hongjoong’s magic is draining mostly due to the fact that he is eclectic and likes to dabble in everything. Some spells take more out of him than others, some take no effort, and others require days if not weeks of recovery time. Now, however, there seems to be a different issue.

“A job went south.” That’s the only explanation you got from Seonghwa, but the small shake of his head told you all you needed to know. Because jobs don’t just go south for Hongjoong.

That is what lands you here — steps outside Hongjoong’s room with hand raised and ready to rap roughly against the wood several times. You aren’t sure what awaits you inside, but considering the very late hour, you are hoping to find Hongjoong asleep. The faint yellow candlelight filtering under the door tells you otherwise though, and that’s why you opt to knock rather than barging in unannounced.

“Come in.” Hongjoong sounds tired even in the two small words, but it isn’t the typical kind of tired you’re used to hearing from people. You are used to the exhaustion of the body, people coming to your door for sleep remedies, and nightmare potions meant to dispel the bad dreams that keep them up at night. The exhaustion in Hongjoong’s voice is one that resides deep in the body, one that eats away at the bones and muscles, breaks you down until you can hardly keep your head up. It’s nothing you can’t fix with a simple herbal concoction, but Seonghwa didn’t ask you to bring anything. He didn’t expect you to use your alchemy to fix Hongjoong, thus you’re going to have to rely on words and comfort instead.

You twist the handle as quietly as you can so that you don’t disturb the other sleeping men in the house. Sneaking in was hard enough, especially since Jongho was sprawled out on the couch with Yeosang’s lithe cat form curled up directly on his stomach, but you managed to get past the two of them with little to no disturbances. (And you delivered a few head scratches to Yeosang but that’s beside the point).

“Are you here to heat the tea again? I forgot all about it — oh.” Hongjoong’s thought falls short when he turns to face you, no doubt assuming that it was Seonghwa knocking for the umpteenth time tonight, but instead, he finds you with your hands tucked behind your back and lips stretched into a small smile. “What are you doing here? Did something happen back at the cottage? Did you come alone? Please tell me that you at least carried a ward or charm with you. That walk isn’t safe alone at this hour and I—”

“Hongjoong, darling, please.” Your smile stretches bit by bit as you move towards where Hongjoong is seated at his desk. Back hunched almost painfully, the man seems to be slaving over some old tomes, several books cracked open and laid bare before him, and your heart squeezes tight in your chest from the sight. There’s a barely touched mug of tea alongside the books, no doubt cold at this point, and the small lamp sitting on the corner of the desk illuminates the space.

The tension in Hongjoong’s shoulders remains even as you get within touching distance of him, and you dart a hand out to brush a few loose strands of hair off his forehead. The dark locks cave under your fingers, letting you tuck them back with little resistance. Hongjoong sighs from the gentle touches.

“Long day?” you murmur, despite already knowing the answer.

“Fucked up an important job,” Hongjoong sighs in response. He drops his head and faces forward again, staring down at the book before him. You take the opportunity to look in the same direction but you regret doing so a moment later because of what you see on the page.

Curing terminal illness with magic.

You tug at the back of Hongjoong’s chair, pulling him away from his desk with as much strength you can muster, but eventually he caves and assists you in pushing the chair back. You leave just enough room for you to slip between him and the desk before dropping your hands to his shoulders. No words come from your lips for quite some time; the two of you just remain in that position until tension begins to ebb away from Hongjoong’s shoulders. And the moment that begins to happen, you take advantage of it, dropping atop his lap with little effort and slipping your legs about his waist. Hongjoong’s hands secure at your hips.

Even the slight touch fills your body with energy — it’s weak and fragile, evidence of how much magic Hongjoong used today and how much he’s struggling to even stay awake right now — and you push yourself closer to him in attempts to offer at least some warmth and comfort.

Seonghwa would be better suited for this as a witch, or even San since the man is Hongjoong’s familiar, and yet you were called upon to help Hongjoong. You, the herbalist and alchemist with no magical ability in your bones. It’s a daunting task being asked to help Hongjoong without knowing what to do or having the skills that the others have. Still, you refuse to let that lack of confidence shine through in the slightest, bringing your hands up to cup Hongjoong’s sharp jawline and lift his head. He blinks back at you with wide eyes, dark orbs swirling with a mix of emotions that leaves a deep-seated pain in your heart.

“My love, what happened?”

Hongjoong blinks away from you. Before either of you know it, tears are springing to his eyes, welling them up with crystalline drops that glisten under the yellow lamplight. Not a single one falls quite yet; they still hold onto his eyelashes and waterline for the time being, but the moment he starts speaking, you know they’ll begin to fall. You wait as long as he needs you to, patient as ever as he collects himself and takes several deep breaths to calm down a bit before talking again.

“I promised his father that I would be able to heal him and fix him,” Hongjoong exhales against the exposed part of your neck. “I – h-he trusted me, and I… he died.”

Your arms tighten a bit around Hongjoong out of sheer instinct, and Hongjoong’s breaths tremble before he’s able to get his next words out. You don’t force him to continue the thought; you’ve heard enough to know how badly the job went and why Seonghwa was so concerned when he talked to you earlier. Your fingers brush over the base of Hongjoong’s neck, combing gently through the locks of hair the reside there in a desperate attempt to offer him some comfort.

You don’t need to ask what he’s talking about to understand. There can only be one patient he’s referring to – the young boy of about nine who suffered from a tragic terminal illness, one that left him bed-ridden for years before Hongjoong came along. It only took Hongjoong two weeks to get the boy out of his bed, and another three for the boy to walk around normally. Within two months, he could run and play outside once more, and in the third, the boy and his father were going on weekly fishing trips that always resulted in Seonghwa getting vast deliveries of black bass and rainbow trout. The young boy’s case has always been Hongjoong’s pride — the one job he never tires of, the one he would always return to, the most important one he’s ever had. There were no signs of things going south again.

“I-I wanted his father to be mad at me. Scold me and harass me and berate me. Call me a failure because that’s – that’s what I am, but h-he just… smiled. Told me not to take it too harshly. I was a last-ditch effort as it was. He didn’t expect anything to work and y-yet I was able to at least prolong his son’s death for a few precious months. He was grateful — grateful. Even though his son d-died. Even though I couldn’t save him.”

You pull back to look Hongjoong in the eye now. Dark eyes search yours, still glistening with tears that fall freely now, and they seek answers that you don’t have. All you can do is hold his face with the gentlest touch manageable and bring your forehead down to rest against his.

“Death… death is fickle, mio caro. She takes as much as life gives and is as elusive as a cloud on a clear day. We can’t control her no matter how much we try. While you have the ability to prolong her cold touch, no one can keep her away forever. You gave this boy months of life – a life he was able to cherish and use to the fullest. That was enough. You did enough.” You drag the pads of your thumbs over Hongjoong’s cheeks collecting the tears and brushing them away with ease. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as you trace faint patterns across his skin.

“I just keep thinking about the ‘what if’s. What if I had noticed the changes sooner? What if I had been quicker to help him? To find a solution or a spell or just… something – anything. Could I have given him more time? His father seemed ready b-but the pain in his eyes when I delivered the news is not something I could readily forget.”

“You don’t have to forget that pain, Hongjoong. No one is asking you to. But put aside the possibilities, and look at reality.”

“The reality is that he died.”

“But not because of you,” you counter with haste, gaze sharpening on Hongjoong a bit as he opens his mouth to protest. “Were you the cause of his illness?”

“…No.”

“Did you do everything in your power to help him?”

“Yes, but there is alwa—”

“Shush, darling.” You drop a hand to where one of Hongjoong’s rests against your hip, taking it in yours and lifting it to your chest. You place his hand directly over your heart and fall completely silent so that he can feel the steady thrum of your heartbeat. “Do you feel that?” You inquire once a few seconds have passed.

“Yes.”

“That’s life, Joong.” A soft smile overtakes your lips. “Where there is death, there is also life. And we cannot focus on the life before us if we are too consumed by the cold touch of death. As much as you want to hear that you’ve failed or made a mistake or deserve to be hated, it is not what you deserve because none of those things are true. You gave that man and his son the most precious gift of all for those months: time. Time they spent together whereas before they could not.”

“Notre petite étoile is right.”

You don’t need to turn to see who’s just stepping into the room; the little nickname is enough to tell you who it is since there’s only one man in the house who speaks French and calls you by that name. Hongjoong looks up though, arms squeezing around your waist as he looks to where Seonghwa stands at the edge of the room.

“Are you two ganging up on me?” Hongjoong grumbles. You and Seonghwa merely laugh in response, the latter man coming closer to the desk. He pauses at the edge to glance down at Hongjoong’s mug of tea and wordlessly traces small patterns against the side of the mug. Before you know it, small wisps of steam curl into the air above the liquid, and Seonghwa has once again heated the tea. The smile he wears signals that it’s something he’s done time and time again tonight, but he doesn’t make it seem like a chore or a burden at all, hand reaching out to comb through Hongjoong’s dark hair. Hongjoong sighs into the touch. There’s a gentle silence that drapes over the room next – one that Hongjoong relaxes under with your scent and Seonghwa’s intermingling under his nose.

Seonghwa doesn’t stop his rhythmic motions until Hongjoong’s shoulders have dropped all the tension stored in them, then he moves around the back of his chair and leans over it. You aren’t quite sure what he’s up to until two fingers curl under your chin and lift your head to greet his.

“My little star,” he murmurs before dipping closer to press a soft kiss against your lips. “One for you, and—” Seonghwa pulls back to glance down at Hongjoong, finding expectant and wide eyes blinking back up at him, then he parts Hongjoong’s bangs and places a second kiss to the exposed skin of his forehead “—one for you, my sweet starlight. The sun will rise soon, along with our darling sunrise to do the yard work. You two ought to get some rest before the chaos begins.”

“I should get home so I can prep the shop for morning opening,” you whisper, beginning to pull away from Hongjoong inch by inch. You half-expect Seonghwa to be the one to urge you to stay with pleading eyes and lingering touches that most definitely hold a bit of magic to them, but this time, he doesn’t say a word. Rather, it’s Hongjoong who tightens his hold on you and clings to you as though he might lose you if he dares to let go. You don’t realize it right away – perhaps you’re too distracted by the haziness of the late hour or by Seonghwa’s presence in the room – but when Hongjoong’s hands move up to brush over your shoulder blades, there is a sudden sense of desperation in his touch. Seonghwa smiles from off to the side.

“I’ll tell the younger ones not to bother you too much. Sleep as much as you need to. Yeosang and I will take care of the shop, étoile.” Seonghwa turns on his heel and walks towards the door again, leaving you and Hongjoong to watch his retreating form in silence. Just before he disappears completely, however, he shifts to look at the two of you once more. “I could get used to such a vision in our home.”

“Hm?” You echo, confusion evident on both your features and in your tone.

“You being here often, Hongjoong distracted from work long enough to focus on something else, San sneaking up the stairs behind me and hiding outside the door while we talk.” Seonghwa cracks a smile and pushes the door wide open. A startled San pops out from behind the wood, broad shoulders curling inwards in his momentary shame, but Seonghwa doesn’t let that last long and brings a warm hand to the younger man’s waist. He doesn’t say anything else, slipping out of the room behind San’s form and leaving the familiar in his place.

“Come, come, darling.” Hongjoong motions for San to come further into the room as he nudges you up, and you quickly slip off the man’s lap to stand on your own feet again. The breath leaves your lungs in a huff as a pair of arms suddenly wraps around your body, squeezing you in a tight embrace. The lines of sinew and muscle could only belong to San though you never saw him move in the slightest. Still, his hold is warm and inviting, enough to easily pull you towards Hongjoong’s bed, one that’s large enough to accommodate more than simply two bodies.

“Missed you,” San mumbles into the crook of your neck. His cool breath tickles the hairs on your skin, sending rows of goosebumps over you, and San kisses them away as best he can. “Been too long since you stayed the night.”

“Hm, Hongjoong needed me tonight,” you sigh, watching said man adjust the books and papers on his desk. He leaves the lamp lit for the time being, but it’s evident that he’s preparing to join you and San in bed, and that’s enough of a welcome sight to cause some of your worry to melt away. San sits up all of a sudden, tossing the sheets back to slip under them, although you don’t join him in doing so quite yet.

“His emotions have been volatile all day,” San says under his breath. The hush over the room is not nearly enough to conceal his tone though. Hongjoong most definitely can hear his words, but he neglects to mention it for the time being. “Couldn’t do anything to fix or help.”

San and Hongjoong share in a special type of relationship, one that is more interwoven and connected than most simply because of San’s identity as a familiar. Not just any familiar but Hongjoong’s familiar, just as Yeosang is Seonghwa’s familiar. It allowed the pair to share a deeper connection, sharing of emotional states – when one feels pain, the other does as well, just as with every emotion from happiness to rage. Hongjoong, however, prides himself on being able to cut off his emotions and keep them from affecting San too badly; so if San could sense the distress today, Hongjoong must be suffering a lot more than he’s letting on. Thus, it’s no surprise that San showed up when he did or that he’s here to stay the night with the two of you. The bond they share provides more than just physical comfort; the bond of a familiar and his master is one that bears great emotional weight and connection as well. It’s something you’ve been a bit insecure about when it comes to both men, along with Seonghwa and Yeosang, but they never let those doubts linger for long.

You’re halfway through taking off your second shoe when Hongjoong finally approaches the bed. He pauses before you, setting the chamberstick on the bedside table alight with a small flame, then he slips down to his knees. Deft fingers work the knots of your laces apart and push the shoe away from your foot. His touch is too warm to be normal, and you only realize what he’s up to when a sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelms you. Hongjoong’s soft touch is the only thing that keeps you awake as he works his way up, pressing a trail of ghosting kisses up the inside of your calf and stopping at your knee. You can hardly keep your eyes parted but manage to see – or at least feel – Hongjoong crawl over you to get onto the bed and slip between your body and San’s.

“No fair,” you murmur, words slurring together a bit. Hongjoong huffs out a laugh before leaning over you to puff the candle out. Small billows of smoke fill the air around your heads, along with a pleasant scent of lavender.

“Forgive me for wanting my star to get some rest,” he chuckles as he settles back against the mattress.

“That’s Seonghwa’s line.”

“Yes, well, Seonghwa isn’t here to say it, is he?”

“I’m telling.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes – a gesture you can barely make out through the darkness – then he leans forward to peck the tip of your nose.

“Childish.”

“Seonghwa doesn’t like it when people steal his nicknames.”

“Oh hush, you little brat. You’re worse than Wooyoung.”

“That’s more like it. Our dearest affectionate Joongie,” San laughs from behind Hongjoong, chin coming to rest on the length of the other man’s shoulder. His lips stretch into a grin, dimples flashing through the darkness, and you smile back at him softly. A hand touches your waist, and you almost think it’s Hongjoong but San grumbles something about you being too far away to cuddle properly and you know it’s him instead. You hum at the touch and settle into the warmth it provides. You nearly fall asleep right then and there, but you force your body to stay awake just a little while longer so you can press one last kiss to Hongjoong’s lips, then another to San’s.

“Okay, goodnight, my loves. I can’t keep my eyes open any longer thanks to Hongjoong.” You press closer to both men, wrapping yourself in the combined warmth of your lovers’ arms and the sheets, and Hongjoong tucks your head against his chest. His chin comes to rest on the top of your head. You’re already drifting off when you hear San’s next whispered words, ones meant only for Hongjoong’s ears but ones you hear nonetheless.

“I have a surprise for you tomorrow.”

“Hm? Is that your way of telling me to clear my schedule?” Hongjoong murmurs. The words send soft vibrations across your hair, and you instinctively tuck yourself further into his chest.

“Well, your schedule should be empty at night unless one of the others would be having you… preoccupied at that time.”

“As if you don’t intend to have me in that way yourself.”

“Only after the surprise,” San whispers, tone slightly offended, but you can also hear the affection in his tone.

“Then I’m all yours tomorrow evening.”

“Perfect.”

Those are the last words you hear out of either man; both fall silent after that and leave you with the soft heavings of their breaths above you, warm arms clinging to you as you drift off into a pleasant and peaceful rest. And as much as you protest the idea of intruding and living here with them, you have to admit that these moments make it worth it in the long run. The little things – the kisses and hugs, the sudden intrusions from your other lovers, the piling warmth, lingering gazes, soft smiles, quiet shared whispers. Perhaps you could get used to nights like these.

...

a/n: just another lil addition to the witchteez universe, i plan of having a drabble for each member then doing drabble requests after? i think? let me know if that’s something you want to see or if you have any ideas for the other members’ drabbles! i haven’t come up with anything yet so im quite open to suggestions!

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sorcerersofnyc · 3 years

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The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 9/9 - The Epilogue

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home he once shared with you.

You reunite and he reflects upon his relationship with you (his wife’s friend and his friend’s wife) and your journey from being people with mutual friends to partners.

Part Nine: You Carry On

Angst, brief allusions to sex, I use Serbian Cyrillic as a stand-in for Sokovian.

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won’t say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

First Chapter | Previous

***

You watch him go.

You watch him leave you once again— watch him go off into some dark, unknown future you can never be a part of.

And it hurts.

It hurts to know how much you’ll miss him, hurts to think you'll never see him again.

You take a deep breath (and another and another and another) but the pain only spreads faster as dread closes in all around you.

You feel lost in it, drowned by it, changed by it—but you won’t surrender to it. You’ve walked this road before and you know the way forward. So you take a step, then another, and you turn away from the outside world with a heavy, ragged breath.

The kitchen is far too cheery now. The sun streams inside through the open curtains, and the smell of coffee lingers in the air. Helmut washed the dishes before he left, leaving only his favorite mug behind. It stares at you from its place on the countertop, its dark ceramic gleaming in the light.

You don’t feel your knees buckle or your hands shake, you don’t feel the mangled sob rising up from your chest, you don’t feel the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes and pour down your cheeks like heavy rain.

Your body lurches forward. You reach out to steady yourself but somehow manage to knock the mug over instead. It strikes the title with a sickening clink that echoes through the air.

It chips, but it doesn't shatter. The coffee spills from the mouth and spreads fans out in every direction, staining the tiles on the floor.

Helmut would never know you chipped his favorite mug—but you cry about it anyway.

You cry for the life you could have had together, one where you dumped the stale remnants of his coffee every morning, one where your first kiss wasn’t also the last, one where he held you every day, and you healed your hearts together instead of apart.

You cried because your feelings had no place else to go.

Time passes.

You’re alright; you don’t break, or bend, or toil beneath the weight of your grief. The world moves forward, and so do you:

Anežka returns. (“How was the Baron?” She asks you. “We’re the two of you able to… become familiar with one another?” You wish.)

You learn Helmut was taken to the raft. (You order his affairs and have his things sent over to him.)

Sam Wilson becomes Captain America. (He gives a speech that inspires the world to do better.)

The Flag Smashers are killed in a car bombing. (‘No suspects as of yet,’ the report says and your heart tightens at the thought of who might have been responsible.)

You carry on.

You receive a package in the mail one day, a thick brochure from The Raft outlining the specifics of a Prison Work Rehabilitation Program.

The front photo was disturbingly picturesque, framing the facility as less of a prison and more like a seaside resort.

'Propaganda,’ you think as you flip through the glossy pages. The program is endorsed by some guy named Thaddeus Ross. You think he was a general or a secretary or something but you aren’t quite sure.

The back of the brochure displays an image of a happy family reuniting and you roll your eyes. Prisoners on the Raft don’t get to go home to their families.

You toss the brochure away without a second thought.

A few weeks later, you’re sent flowers after an art show. It’s a beautiful arrangement; twelve thick-stemmed roses wrapped in gold foil.

It adds a classic touch to the modern look of the Visiting Artists’ Office, standing out amongst the dark tables and chairs. But it’s the card that catches your attention; it was left completely blank.

You aren’t sure how you feel about having a secret admirer but you take the flowers home regardless. They’d look nice in a vase near the window, the bright reds mixing with the autumn leaves.

The trip home is short and uneventful and you thank your driver on the way to the door.

You slide your house slippers on and are surprised to see Anežka’s pink one’s by the door as well. You can hear her in the kitchen, opening and closing the doors of the pantry as the air grows warm with the spices of her favorite tea.

“Anežka,” You call out, “I’m home!”

You set the flowers on a side table, barely conscious of the soft footsteps trailing in from the kitchen till Anežka sets her mug down on the coffee table.

“Look what I’ve got. A 'secret admirer’ sent them. Should we put them here or downstairs?” You take an artful picture of the arrangement.

“Neither is a wholly appropriate place.”

You freeze.

Your mind draws blank as it fails to process the words you heard someone other than Anežka speak.

You turn around quickly, knocking the flowers off the table as you do.

“Helmut?” Your voice lowers as a million feelings bubble up inside of you. They threaten to explode.

Helmut is there—right there—dressed in nothing but a bathrobe and his house slippers with a cat-like smile stretched across his handsome features.

He strides forward with confidence, stopping so close you nearly reel back.

“These are special flowers, драга, brought all the way from Ecuador.” He kneels before you, the hem of his robe splitting at the knee to offer a very seductive glimpse of his thigh.

He reaches around you, grabs the fallen bouquet, and sets them gingerly on the table as he stands. “We should place these in your bedroom so you may admire them every night.”

“What’s happening?” You finally manage to ask him, “what’s going on?”

“I’m home,” Helmut teases, speaking as though you failed to notice his soft brown eyes, his damp hair, or the heat that surges between you as he stands close enough to touch, to kiss if you wanted.

He brushes a hand against your cheek.

“Helmut,” you whisper again, but your voice is stern and more controlled this time. “How are you here? You’re supposed to be in Raft.” Despite your words, you lean a little closer, resting both hands against his chest, near the opening of his robe.

“It seems someone of great influence decided my sentence was better served outside the walls of the prison.”

“Like civil service?” You ask, but then you remember the brochure you received in the mail— the propaganda, or so you believed. “Or… Prison Work Rehabilitation?”

“Something like that. There’s a team,” he makes a flippant gesture with his hand before bringing it to rest on the curve of your hip. “Though I needed time to address the matter of my… financial limitations.”

“Limitations?”

“Of course.” He pulls you closer, encircling you in his arms. “The holder of my assets is quite a formidable woman. I thought it best to pay her a visit, to request access to the full extent of my resources. As stubborn as she is, I assume it will take a great many visits.”

“That would be wise,” You nod slowly, a wide smile coming to your face.

“I can’t be with you always, драга,” he tells you, “but I will be here.”

And you don’t quite remember what you promise in reply (or if you promised anything at all) because he kisses you.

Your fingers slide down his chest, brushing past his chest hair and the little charm he wears around his neck.

You don’t know how long you stay there, kissing, and sighing, and melting in the arms of the man you love, but you’re vaguely aware of being walked back against the wall, of the front door opening and closing at some point, and of Anežka pausing by the threshold, groceries in hand.

“Anežka,” He greets her, but his dark and hungry gaze lingers on you, only you.

“Hello, Baron… It’s good to see you.” Her voice waivers, but the sentiment is real. “M-Miss,” she nods in your direction.

“Hi, Anežka.” You’re not quite sure what to say.

“Why don’t you take a few days off?” Helmut suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care of things here.”

“O-of course, Baron—Thank you.” Anežka glances between you one more time before setting the bags down near the door. “Good luck, Miss!” She calls out before leaving.

And as her footsteps grow quiet and hush in the distance, his eyes meet yours and his kiss finds its home upon your lips.

(And later when Helmut comes undone beneath your gaze and the rocking of your hips against his, you bring him home once again.)

And he keeps coming home to you.

***

And so we've reached the end. Thanks so much for reading! I appreciate all the support. This was my first fanfic in many years and I'm glad I could bring it to a close.

The end is a bit of wishful thinking on my part but I wanted to end on a happy note.

I'll probably write one or two bonuschapter that's basically just smut. So if you're 18+ and would like to remain on the taglist (or be added,) just let me know!

Taglist:

@actuallyanita, @fillechatoyante, @viviace, @buckyandlokicanhaveme, @sapphiredreamer26, @robur-bellicum, @apparrio

#Zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #mcu zemo #reader x zemo

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krreader · 4 years

Text

ensorcell | chapter 8.

pairing: prince!taehyung x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; prince!taehyung ; arranged marriage ; language ; sex genre: fluff ; angst ; smut word count: 2.7k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7

summary: it was funny, how meeting one single person could change your life forever. you were ordinary, he was not. he was rich, you were not. he fell in love with you and so did you. even though he was never supposed to.

a/n: i’m so sad I never get to update my originals as much as I want to, but I’m really happy when I do. especially with this one BECAUSE IT’S FINALLY SEXY TIME

It was on days like these that you were harshly reminded of not really belonging here.

It was on days like these that you realized that the girl struggling in college to get her degree and having frequent anxiety attacks due to the uncertainty of the future was the real you that you had left behind to play pretend. Because unlike some others, you were not cut out to play this game of royal intrigues that some seemed to excel in.

“You're mad.. aren't you?” the familiar voice would have made you turn around and smile a few hours ago, but now you kept your eyes firmly on the horizon and watched the sun set in the royal gardens while royal guards and maids were all around you, making sure that you were well taken care of.

Why, you might ask? Well, because they all thought you were carrying a royal heir, thanks to the man that now sat down next to you. When in reality, the only thing you were carrying was the weight of the lies that kept piling up.

“I'm not mad. I know why you did it,” when Taehyung let out a relieved sigh, you quickly added, “Doesn't mean I like what you did, though.”

“I had to say something. I've gotten so many inquiries about whether the rumors about Dae and me were true today, I knew the only way to make it stop was to say you were pregnant. A royal heir is the most precious thing a kingdom could have. You being pregnant will put an indefinite end to any possible other 'proposals' that my father could make.”

“But I'm not, Taehyung. I'm not pregnant. And I don't intend to get pregnant. Because in case you forgot, we've only been dating for a few weeks. Marrying is a big step after such a short amount of time, but having a baby?”

“I know,” he put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, brushing them over his tired eyes in desperation, “I thought it was the best solution at the time. I should have discussed it with you first, I'm sorry.”

It was a mess. A mess that would be hard to get out of, but at the same time, you really couldn't bring yourself to be angry with him. His father would have married him off to someone that he hated. He did it to ensure that the two of you could stay with each other. In some way, it showed you that he did it because, like his sister said, you meant a lot to him. And from the way he was acting now, a child hadn't been something that he had considered so early on either.

So at least you were on the same page in that sense.

Now, you'd have to figure out how to fix this and get out of this without birthing a baby in nine months. It’s not like you already had enough shit on your plate already.

“Give me a second,” you said when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, letting out a heavy sigh when you saw the name on the display. You already knew you were in deep shit when you answered, “Let me explain..-”

“No, you let me talk now and you just listen,” your mother started angrily, “You run off with some foreign prince that I've never met in my life without so much as a word to get married to him, because there is no other way to stay together, despite you and him only knowing each other for a few hours. Then you get knocked up by said prince before even getting married to him and are now pregnant without even having finished college yet and having absolutely zero fucking stability in your life while being in a country that is not home. Did I get all the details right?”

You clenched your jaw as you looked at the terrified 'foreign prince' that your mother seemed to like so much. Taehyung maybe should have asked more about your family, now that he was hearing her scream like this.

“I'm not pregnant, mom,” you lowered your voice, “It's.. extremely complicated and I promise I will explain it all eventually, but I am not pregnant, okay?”

“You know what? I've had enough. I'm taking the next flight out and I am taking you home with me.”

That alarmed Taehyung so much that he sat up straight, but you just put your hand on his leg to stop him from worrying, “I'm not five anymore, mom, you can't just come and get me. I'm an adult who can make her own decisions and I've made this one. I am getting married, with or without your approval.”

You knew that she was worried. That her saying that wasn't said out of any ill-will, but she was worried sick for you being here, so far away from home where she couldn't be with you.

And she instantly showed that side of herself when her voice broke a little, “Just come home, sweetheart. We can figure all of this out when you're back here. And maybe your boyfriend could come here too? Why can't he just..-”

If only it were so easy.

“Mom,” you got up and started walking, wanting a moment alone with your mother, “I miss you as much as you miss me, so I'm going to suggest that maybe, if you can, come here and spend a few days here. I actually would really like you to be here for the wedding. I want you to meet Taehyung and see what a great guy he is and his mother and sister, who take such good care of me. I want you to meet them.”

“It's not them I'm worried about. It's everything else. You don't understand how big of a thing this is, the media coverage on all of this is insane. Everyone is suddenly talking so much about you and I'm so afraid of what it's turning you into. I just don't want anything to happen to you, so leaving now..-”

“..- is not an option, I'm sorry, mom,” you said firmly, but at the same time, with a soft undertone, “Call (Y/B/F). She'll be here soon, maybe you can take the same flight as her. I'll prove to you that I'm doing okay and that you won't have to worry about me. I've got this.”

Fake it till you make it, right?

“How could you be so stupid?!” the king was pacing up and down the room, the queen and Taehyung's brother and sister all sitting across from you and him on a couch opposite, “I told you, the worst thing that you could do is get her pregnant and you do exactly that. This is an outrage!”

“Have you even listened to the news? Read an article? Because everything I've seen so far is well-wishes and happiness,” Taehyung leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, “We live in the 21st Century, father. Having a child before marriage isn't as big of a deal anymore as when you were younger.”

He was challenging him, so much that his mother had to gently shake her head to tell him to stop.

The king was already furious enough. Taehyung shouldn't add more fuel to the fire.

You had thought that Taehyung might have told his father the truth about the situation, but that would make little sense. What he did was to stop him from trying to ruin yours and his relationship. If he caught wind of this pregnancy being fake, it would be back to him trying to marry Taehyung off to princess Dae. His mother seemed to be unaware of the situation as well. Only his sister knew, why she did, though, you didn't know. Maybe Taehyung had confided in her beforehand.

“I thought I had raised you well, you know?” gone was the mad king, now all that you could see on his face was disappointment, “But ever since you met her..-” and as soon as your eyes met his, it was back to anger, “..you ruined everything.”

Taehyung let out a snort and got up, “If that's everything you have to say, then we shall take our leave. My fiancé has to rest,” he emphasized the word fiancé, which only seemed to make his father angrier.

But before this could escalate any further, he pulled you up by your hand and out of the room, walking with you to your bedroom.

And as soon as the doors behind you two were closed, his shoulders slumped and you could see just how tired he actually was.

You weren't the only one that was drained by all of this, he just hid it better than you.

Taehyung moved to the bed, then sat down on the foot of it and closed his eyes for a moment.

You watched him, but couldn't do so for long. Your need to reach out and support him was too great. And so you followed him and knelt down before him, gently cupping his face in your hands so that he looked at you.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered, “I made it worse.”

“Why did you do it? I mean.. really, why did you take such a drastic step?”

He looked into your eyes for a long while, then he put his hands over yours to hold them, his eyes becoming sadder by the second, “I was scared to lose you. The only one that I ever had feelings for and that I wanted to spend my future with. That was selfish, wasn't it?”

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile, “I wouldn't be here anymore if I didn't feel the same way about you.”

And the longer this eye contact lasted, the harder your heart beat against your chest. So much, that it felt like it was about to jump out. The urge to kiss him, to hold him and just... be with him, was so overwhelming that you couldn't hold back anymore.

And for the first time since you came here, it felt like you shut off your brain and just listened to your heart. You leaned up and kissed him, carefully at first because you were afraid of taking it too far, but Taehyung was as desperate for this as you were.

This wasn't even about sexual needs, this was about feeling the other person so close to you, to feel a union that would bring you closer together and would help you feel a little better in a shitty situation like this.

He wanted that too... so he deepened the kiss.

You sighed against his lips and slowly got up, only so you could straddle him a moment later.

His hands traveled from yours to your waist, holding you so tightly that you felt like his hands were leaving marks on your skin.

Keep in mind that you haven't had a proper moment like this since that first kiss that you shared back home. All those emotions, those feelings... you both just bottled them up because you had no other choice. But now, the bottle was overflowing. And there was no going back anymore.

Taehyung fell back into the mattress, you with him, without ever breaking the kiss once.

The only moment you both did, was for you and him to take off your shirts, then it was back to exploring the others mouth.

Fingertips running over your back, a trail of goosebumps forming where they touched and once he unclasped your bra, your entire upper body was covered in them.

One of his hands came up to your neck to hold it firmly, his thumb brushing against your jaw, stopping to kiss you for a moment, but leaning his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.

You thought he might say something, but he couldn't. It was all too much in that moment. Too many feelings and emotions. All he could do was quickly turn you around so that you were lying on your back and he on top of you.

His lips found their way to your neck, beginning to kiss every single spot on it.

Your hands were running through his beautiful and soft hair, letting out quiet moans every time he found a spot that made you shiver.

It was clear that he wanted to make you feel good. As if he wanted to make up for something, which he really didn't have to. But as his lips wrapped around your nipples, you couldn't bring yourself to say no. Not when his tongue felt so good and felt even better when it was finally between your exposed legs.

You had only been able to imagine what kind of lover he was before, but you were glad to see that – despite not knowing his sexual history – he seemed to know what he was doing. His tongue was caressing your clit, kissing it and biting down on it every now and again. Every time your moans became louder, he slowed down, just so you could fully enjoy this and he could draw this out for as long as possible.

He didn't say a word, just enjoyed making you feel beautiful, loved and outright good.

Soft kisses, hard kisses, sucking on it.. he drove you mad relatively quickly.

“I think..- I think I'm..-” you couldn't finish this sentence, Taehyung had already felt your grip tighten in his hair. He licked on your clit like he had before and to top it all of, sucked on it a little harder than he had earlier. And that was all it took to bring you over the edge and to have you moan out his name. Loud.

Your body became limp afterwards, breathing heavily as he kissed his way back up.

A grin had spread on his face, kissing your cheek when he whispered, “I should thank whoever built this castle for making the walls thick.”

You let out a chuckle and spread your legs a little wider, grinning when he looked down, “You're not done, though, right?”

“Right..-” he dipped his head to kiss you once, twice, then he leaned down to your ear, his hardened length now resting against your throbbing clit, “Are you sure?”

Butterflies erupted in your belly when he said that. This caring and wonderful man, still worried if you maybe didn't want to continue after all this... it might have been stupid to think that way, but in that moment, you thought to yourself: ‘It's all worth it...’

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I want you. All of you.”

“You have me,” he whispered back, slipping inside you so easily because of how wet you were, “All of me.”

You had seen his dick earlier and had seen that it was long, but now that he was actually inside you, rock-hard at that, you could really feel just how long.

The moment he was completely buried in you, you let out a breath that you had unconsciously been holding and waited for him to continue.

But it took him a while.

He just waited, held you in his arms and kissed your cheek every now and again.

“Hey.. are you okay?” you asked eventually, putting your hand on his cheek to make him look at you.

And when he did, you were surprised to see tears in his eyes. Worry filled your face, but he quickly laughed, “Shit, I'm sorry. I'm just... I just really needed this.”

“My vagina?” you said, mainly to lighten the mood. And it did.

Taehyung let out a laugh and kissed your forehead, “No.. happiness. A moment of peace. With the woman that I'll marry.”

Your smile softened, your thumb brushing over his cheek, “Well then.. why don't you show your wife-to-be what she can expect from her future husband?”

“Many,” he pulled out a little, “many,” then pushed back in, a little harder than the first time to make you moan, “Orgasms.”

Now, that was music to your ears.

And the moans that escaped his throat afterwards as he continued pushing himself inside you again and again were an even sweeter melody. Every time he moaned your name and told you how good you felt, your heart felt like it was exploding.

This is what you had both needed.

Because now, there was no uncertainty anymore.

This was right. This felt right. You and him together.

And whatever obstacle would come your way, you would face it.

Together.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #v x reader #kim taehyung imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #kim taehyung #taehyung #v #reader #mine

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let-me-luve-you · 4 years

Text

T-Shirt Quilts

Jared Padalecki x Reader

Summary: Every year the SPN crew does Secret Santa and this year you get your best friends name.

Warnings: Secret feelings, fluff, if there is angst you have to squint to see it i think

Word Count: 2,190

@spnchristmasbingo

MASTERLIST

SPN CHRISTMAS BINGO

You watched as Jessica, a PA, walked around carrying a basket with names on paper for the annual Secret Santa. You’ve been working on the set of Supernatural for a few months. You still didn’t know everyone so you were hoping you got someone you knew.

Secretly you hoped it was Jared. You’ve had a huge crush on him since you guest starred last year on two episodes. You stayed in touch between your days on set last season to when you started a full time role this season. It helped that you both live in Austin. Jared quickly became your best friend over the months, but you still harbored those feelings.

Jessica walked up to you and smiled at you. ”Once you draw, let me know who you got so I can write it down. And don’t worry, us PAs have different bowls. My name is in another one.”

You smiled at her and reached into the bowl. You picked up a piece of paper and opened it.

“I got myself?” You looked up at Jessica who was laughing.

“Put it back and draw again.” She said as her laughter died out. She held the bowl up to you once again. You put your hand back in the bowl and grabbed another paper.

You kept your face neutral as you read the name quietly to Jessica since the person you got was a few feet away. “Jared. I got Jared.” You smiled at Jessica as she smirked while writing his name down. Your heart was racing because you wanted to get him something special. More special than what you already have stored in your closet back in Austin.

Jared walked over to the both of you. Jessica smiled at him.

“Jared, have you drawn for the Secret Santa?” Jessica asked holding up the bowl. Jared shook his head. He reached into the bowl and smirked as he read the name. He turned to show Jessica and she smirked again as she was writing. “Well you guys have fun shooting your next scene. I’m off the rest of the day.”

“Bye Jessica. Merry Christmas.” Jared said. You smiled and hugged her as you wished her safe travels. Jared turned to look at you. “I have a few hours until I have to film again and I know for a fact you are here way to early since you are doing evening shoots. So would you like to accompany me to a movie and a nap in my trailer?” You laughed and nodded your head.

That weekend you were walking around shops trying to get an idea for Jared when you walked past a craft store. You walked in just to see what they had. As you walked further into the store, you saw all the quilt supplies hanging on a wall and laying on shelves. An older woman approached you.

“Hello dear, are you looking to make a quilt or are you looking to have one made?” She asked.

“Um… I’m not sure.” You replied honestly. “I don’t even know what pattern I would want.”

“Well let me just tell you more about what we do here so you can decide if you would like one. Holidays are coming up and it would be a lovely gift.” She led you towards the table that had a pamphlet on it. “We do patterns, we do quilt square patterns, and we do t-shirt quilts.”

“What are t-shirt quilts?” You asked genuinely confused.

“They are quilts made out of t-shirts. We cut the shirt into a square and then we put them together like a quilt square pattern. And if you don’t have enough t-shirts to fill a complete quilt, you can add some fabric.”

You thought about all the Always Keep Fighting shirts Jared had given you over the summer. A few from every campaign he had done. Plus you had other Supernatural shirts based off of Sam you could add. “I think you just helped me figure out my Christmas gift for a friend. How long does it take you to make the quilt?”

Normally it would take us a while, but with the holiday season, we would have it done in a week.” She replied happily that she might have made a sale.

“And what time do you close? I have some shirts I would like to turn into a quilt.” You said. “Do you do weighted quilts?”

“We do. It will cost you extra though.” She said. “And we close at nine tonight.”

You smiled at her. You told her you would be back in a bit. Just had to run home to grab the shirts. She smiled and said she would be here to help you when you got back.

You almost ran to your car to hurry. Jared was due to be at your apartment later that evening when you finished shopping. You didn’t want to risk him seeing you home and think it’s okay to come over. You ran into your room once you unlocked your apartment. Quickly opening your dresser, you grabbed one of each campaign. Then you went to the closet to grab the Supernatural shirt. You locked your apartment and rushed back to the shop.

“I’m back.” You said smiling. Linda, the kind lady that helped you earlier led you to the quilting room to design the front of the quilt. After aligning the shirts how you wanted them, she led you to the fabric section to select something for the back. You smiled when you saw a plaid design that just screamed Sam Winchester. “I really like this. It matches the person who is getting this.”

Linda smiled at you as she saw your eyes light up thinking about the quilt and the person it was going to. “This will be a big quilt. Probably around six feet.”

“That’s perfect. The guy I’m getting this for is 6’4.” You said with a laugh.

“I’m sure he will love it. I will give you a call when it is done.” Linda said. You smiled at her and left the store.

Two weeks later you were carrying your wrapped box into the building where the SPN Christmas party was being held. You discarded your present and walked towards Jensen.

“Hiya Jay!” You said. He turned and smiled at you. He wrapped you in a big hug.

“How’s my girl tonight?” He asked as he pulled away.

“I’m doing good. How are you? Ready to see the family?” You asked back.

“Better now that you're here.” You both laughed. “Of course I’m ready to see the family. It’s been a long week. Just glad I get to spend a few weeks with them without any interruptions.”

“I bet. I can’t wait to come see them on Christmas. I miss the little ones.” You said. You jumped as arms wrapped around you from behind.

You relaxed when you heard, “I miss them too. I’m spoiling them. Nearly all the presents under my tree are for them.” Jared said.

“Dang it Jared, I told you not to buy them anything.” Jensen said annoyed. But you noticed he wasn’t too annoyed based off the smile on his face.

“Okay guys. We have the presents to hand out, so please grab a seat.” You heard of the sound system, which stopped Jared from replying to Jensen.

Presents were being handed out by the PAs that did the drawings. Jessica handed you and Jared presents with a smirk before she turned to Jensen and handed him his.

Jared laughed as he felt how heavy his was. “Someone went all out this year. Or I got bricks. Not sure.” Jensen laughed in response.

You noticed Jared was side eyeing you as you were side eyeing him. You were nervous to see his reaction. When given the signal to open the gifts, you slowly opened yours as you also watched Jared. Jared ripped into the present. He pulled the quilt out and stood up to unfold it so he could observe the whole thing.

“Oh my gosh.” You heard him whisper. You looked up to see tears in his eyes. Jensen looked up when he heard his best friend.

“What is it?” Jensen asked. Jared turned the quilt so Jensen could see the Always Keep Fighting shirts lining the front. “Looks like there’s a note with it.”

Whenever anxiety gets the worst of you, remember to Always Keep Fighting. This is your fighting blanket. It is a 20 pound weighted quilt to help you calm down when you feel like you’re out of control. Thank you for being the best role model for people around you and the people around the world. You deserve the world Jared. AKF

Jared read the note out loud. Jensen smiled and started tearing up too. He knew the battles Jared had and he was touched by the person who gave Jared this gift.

You smiled at the two of the gushing over the quilt. You finally turned towards your gift and opened it. You pulled out a photo album. It had a picture of you, Jared, Jensen, Misha, and Alex on the cover. You flicked through the pictures. Some were cellphone pictures of you with the crew and cast, some were behind the scenes photos taken by the on set photographer, and some were from conventions. Each page had a quote on it and each quote related to the photos on those pages. You were amazed by the work someone put into your gift.

As you continued to look through the photos. Jensen and Jared smiled at you. Jared noticed your tears building and sat by you to look through the picture with you. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed his handwriting yet.

“This year we decided to let each other know their Secret Santa now instead of waiting a few days. So please go find your person.” Bob announced over the system.

You looked at Jared as he looked at you.

“Do you like it?” Jared asked.

“I love it. This gift is beautiful. Did you do this?” You asked him. He nodded his head. You smiled bigger. “I will cherish it forever. Thank you.”

“Did you see the last couple of pages?” You shook your head no and Jared flipped to the pages for you. You noticed the majority of them from your time during the summer with him. Some you didn’t recognize. You smiled as you thought these were pictures Jared snuck of you.

“You really are amazing Jared, thank you.” You said giving him a hug. Letting it go on longer than normal.

“Did you get me the quilt?” He asked. You nodded. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. What made you think to do that.”

“Was shopping around and Linda, the one who made it, gave me the idea.” You said. “I was worried you wouldn’t like it. I didn’t figure you would want a blanket for Christmas.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the best. I love it. I’m going to use it all the time. Why make it weighted though?”

“Weighted blankets are supposed to help when you feel anxious. It’s supposed to help make you feel grounded. Figure you would need that when things get overwhelming.” You said. Jared smiled at you.

Little to yours and Jared’s knowledge, you were being watched by everyone. They had set you guys up to get each other. Hoping you would both admit your feelings to one another.

“Y/N, can I tell you something.” You nodded at the taller man.”Seeing this blanket and seeing how much thought you put into it makes me have to tell you this today. I can’t hold it back anymore.”

“Okay. What is it?” You asked.

“I like you Y/N. I have since you guest starred.” He said nervously.

“Well I wish you would have said something sooner, because I feel the same.” You said back.

“Really?” You nodded. “Since you guest starred?” You nodded once again. “You could have said something too, you know.” You laughed and leaned towards him. Jared pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in. His lips just hovering over yours. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“Yes.” You whispered so quietly, Jared wasn’t sure he heard you. He leaned forward and finally connected your lips in a soft kiss.

The room erupted in cheers. You both pulled away, remembering your surroundings.

“About time you two.” Jensen said. “If all we had to do was make you secret Santa partners, we should have done that a long time ago.”

“You guys planned this?” You asked.

Jensen nodded, “Yeah. I was the one that mentioned it because I was sick of hearing about your feelings for one another but neither of you telling each other.

Jared laughed as he pulled you closer, as everyone else went back to their conversations. Jensen silently watched his best friend and someone who is becoming like a sister to him.

“I’m kind of embarrassed.” You whispered to Jared.

“Don't be.” He said looking you in the eyes. He gently grabbed your chin and brought your lips to his. “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

#spn christmas bingo #spn christmas bingo 2020 #supernatural christmas bingo #supernatural christmas bingo 2020 #jared padalecki #jared x reader #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki rpf #secret santa #jared padalecki one shot #jared padalecki imagines #jared padalecki fanfic #jared padalecki fanfiction #spn rpf #supernatural rpf #spn christmas

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shield-sheafson · 4 years

Link

Chapters: ¼ Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown Additional Tags: Found Family, Fluff, Light Angst, Homelessness, Cass knows like 8 words rip, slight crime, Jason Todd and Cassandra Cain meet earlier, Cassandra Cain and Jason Todd are Siblings, but not blood siblings in this just two kids who adopted each other, street siblings au Summary:

Professional street urchin Jason Todd is struck by an uneasy feeling and suspects someone is following him. That someone is former child assassin Cassandra Cain, who, with nowhere else to go, is taking a leap of faith.

—

This is my take on the Street Siblings AU by @a-sketchy-character! I told them earlier that I’d write something for it, so here I am owning up! Of course, you can read their comic based on this au @streetsiblings. Of course, @greytoiletpaper also wrote one (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100699/chapters/66175306) and Experimental_Muse wrote this one (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037882). Go check them out! Since this is such a popular concept, I hope I do a good job.

—

Jason pops another M&M into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue instead of chewing it. He has no idea why someone would throw away a perfectly good bag of candy, but he’s not going to think too hard about it. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he can feel the strength coming back into his limbs. He feels less sleepy, too.

He tucks the empty bag into the pocket of his frayed jeans, already regretting finishing them. Now that he’s eaten something, what else is he going to do with his day? He hasn’t found any cigarettes, which is a pain, since it’s so cold that his nose feels numb and he could really use some warm smoke to fill up his aching lungs.

Maybe he’ll go to the library. He’s still too small to kick out for loitering, right? Just as he turns to leave the alley, Jason feels a shiver run up his spine. He whips around, raising his fists defensively. Nobody’s there. This doesn’t calm him down. Jason squints as he peers into the dark, wet alley, looking for any sign of movement.

“Hey,” he says in the deepest, roughest voice he can muster. “Think good and hard about what you’re about to do, buddy.”

What is the invisible person about to do? Jason isn’t sure, but he wants them to think good and hard about it. He hears a scuffle and nearly jumps out of his skin only to realize that it’s just a rat migrating from beneath the dumpster to a pile of cardboard boxes.

“What are you playing?” Jason asks. This voice is making his throat hurt. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Nobody answers. Jason weighs his options and decides that the best choice is to make a run for it. He nearly slips on a patch of slush in his haste to get out of the alley. Even when he’s a safe two blocks away he still has an uneasy feeling.

—

A couple of hours later, Jason has shaken off that gross feeling and has settled down outside the 7-11. He used to go here a lot– when his mom was around, it was where they got their groceries. Sometimes she’d splurge and they would split a can of Yoohoo. Even though he doesn’t have any money to go in with, something about the worn bricks and the smoky smell is comforting.

A gaunt man with dark circles under his eyes and a scraggly gray beard joins him, sitting gingerly on the damp ground.

“Afternoon,” he says cordially.

“It’s dark out,” Jason says. He’s not sure what time it actually is. Days and nights tend to blur together. They’re basically the same, though nights tend to be more dangerous.

“Damned if it isn’t,” the man says. “What’s a kid doing out this late?”

“Anywhere else I’m supposed to be?” Jason asks, scowling.

“Just askin’, just askin’,” the man says, raising his palms. “I’d just get somewhere safe if I was you. Some guy’s been– what?”

“What?” Jason repeats after him. “What’s going on?”

“Just thought I… It’s not safe for kids out there lately, is all I’m sayin’.”

Jason sighs and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, dragging down the edge of his hoodie. “Is it that big a deal?” It’s never really safe out there, but he’s always gotten by fine. “You’re not a kid, so you’re fine.”

“Nothin’ wrong with a little empathy,” the man says.

Jason rolls his eyes and walks off to find another place to lurk.

—

It happens the next day, too. Jason has the unpleasant feeling of eyes on his back when he covertly removes a woman’s wallet from her purse and he’s certain someone is about to yell “Stop! Thief!” but nobody does.

When he walks proudly out of McDonald’s with a bag of french fries bought will ill-gotten money, he expects someone to ask for one. Of course, he would have said “no,” but it’s almost disappointing when there’s nobody to answer. He’s not disappointed enough to be really put-off, though. He still stuffs his face wholeheartedly.

Maybe he’s just being paranoid.

—

Jason has been sleeping rough lately. The condemned buildings are already full of squatters, and he knows better than to accept “help” from people who offer couches to young boys. With nowhere inside to sleep, he’s been hiding from the sleet in a cardboard shelter he built in an out-of-view area between buildings and lined with newspaper.

Of course, it’s not usually safe to build a fire when your whole house is so flammable, but he’s risking it tonight. He has a pile of yet more cardboard and newspaper on the other side of the alley, but it’s damp and he’s having a rough time getting it to set alight.

“Come on,” he mutters as he clicks the lighter yet again. It’s a nice one (his mother had liked it a lot) but it doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Jason curses under his breath as the edge of the funnies page smolders and blackens without actually catching fire. Garfield stares at him judgmentally. That’s when he hears it.

A light “thump,” soft but unmistakable. Jason’s head snaps up. He’s afraid to turn and look. At best, it’s another bum looking to share his fire. At worst, it’s…

“What are you looking at?” he says harshly, still not turning his head. “Go find somewhere else.”

The presence at his back doesn’t go away. He feels frozen in place– he’ll admit it, he’s afraid. He knows someone has been following him. He doesn’t know who or why. He hasn’t had a moment where it’s not on his mind, and now his mysterious pursuer is right behind him. His only option is to protect himself.

Jason very slowly reaches into his pocket for the worn switchblade he’s carried since he was nine. His hand trembles as he wraps his fingers around the cold handle.

A hand is laid on his shoulder. He shoots up, pulling the knife out of his pocket and spinning around to face the person behind him.

Before he’s able to do anything a small, strong hand wraps around his wrist, stopping the freed knife in its path. His arm is yanked forward and a palm is shoved under his chin, forcing his face up. He just stands that way for a second, too shocked to move. His opponent doesn’t try to do anything else; they just keep him stuck with his chin pushed up and his arm stretched out, knife useless.

Slowly, cautiously, the hand under his chin lowers, though the grip on his wrist is still tight. He gets a good look at the person who’s apparently decided to hold him hostage.

They’re a kid. They’re (she’s) a little girl, much shorter than him, with big, serious eyes and a mouth covered by a heavy scarf.

“You’re really small,” he says through the hand that’s still partly covering his mouth. “What the fuck.”

She assesses him, eyes darting from his face to his free hand to his battered shoes. Slowly, she loosens her grip and lets go of his chin, releasing him. She takes a step back, body tense and ready to attack or dart away at any second.

Jason clicks his blade back into its case and slides the knife back into his pocket, not looking away from the girl’s face. She has dirty black hair that hangs in her eyes and thick brows. Her nose is delicate and rounded. If she hadn’t just had him in a painful hold, he would have assumed she was harmless.

“Why have you been following me around?” he asks. She doesn’t answer. “What do you want from me?” Again, no answer. Jason sighs (a puff of mist from his mouth). “I’m Jason.” He holds out his hand. Hesitantly, she grips it. Her hand is cold and thin. She still doesn’t say anything.

The girl lets go of his hand and points to the lighter on the ground. It glints at him in greeting.

“What?” Jason asks.

The girl squats on the ground and retrieves the lighter. She hands it to him and points at the pile of cardboard and newspaper.

“Wanna make a fire?” he asks. “There’s garbage in there, so it’ll stink.”

She doesn’t nod. She just points again expectantly.

“'Kay,” Jason says. “Can you talk at all?”

The girl doesn’t respond. Jason shrugs and crouches by his fire heap. The girl plops back on her bottom and crosses her legs.

It takes a while to get it to light. It’s a little embarrassing failing again and again with someone there to watch. Finally, one of the dryer pieces of paper goes alight and spreads to one of the bigger pieces of cardboard.

“See? It does work!” Jason says. Does he sound defensive? “It usually works fine,” he adds. This doesn’t make him any less embarrassed. He puts the lighter in his pocket with the switchblade and holds his hands out, taking in the heat. The girl pulls down her scarf. In the flickering light, he can see she’s smiling at him. She holds out her hands too, and they sit in silence for some time.

—

Jason realizes he’s awake before his eyes open. He’s aware again that his nose and fingers are cold and the back of his hair is wet from the damp concrete. His eyes flicker open and he sees that it’s daytime, pale gray and foggy. He rolls over, realizing with some consternation that he’s not even in his box hut. Anybody could have come and gotten him while he was asleep. He’s lucky they didn’t. He shouldn’t be so– what.

Someone is a few feet away from him, sitting up with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, looking at him thoughtfully.

Jason scrambles backward, scraping his hands on the rough concrete. He bumps his head on the brick wall behind him. It seems that the bricks knock some sense into him because suddenly the events of last night come back to him and he feels like an idiot.

“What are you doing?” he asks, rubbing his head.

The girl scoots over to him and pats his shoulder. Ah. She’s still not talking. Jason sits up straight. He pats her shoulder back. She smiles.

“So, do you just want to hang around here?” Jason asks, even though he knows she won’t answer. “In this alley?”

The girl just looks at him. This is starting to get frustrating.

“Just– just stay, I guess,” Jason says, standing. He points at the ground. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna go get something to eat.”

He backs out of the alleyway, raising his palms as though he’s trying to calm a wild animal. He turns around when he’s certain that she’s staying. He puts his hands in his pockets and releases a breath of relief. Something about that girl makes him nervous. What’s her game? Is she just stupid? He wraps his fingers around the lighter and somehow feels a little more secure.

Jason settles outside a coffee shop and crosses his legs. Dozens of people walk right past him, ignoring his grubby face as they head to work.

“Hey, miss,” Jason says, making eye contact with a woman in a blue pantsuit. An almost fearful look falls on her face as she realizes she’s been wrangled into an interaction with him. “Got a dollar?”

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I don’t carry change.” She scurries off, nearly slipping in her high heels on the icy sidewalk.

“'Scuse me,” Jason says to the lady with the corgi on a leash. “That’s a cute dog you have there.”

“Thank you,” the lady says apprehensively. She walks a little faster.

“Wait!” Jason says. “Can I pet him?”

“S-sure,” the lady says. She turns and walks the dog up to Jason. It smiles stupidly at him. Jason stretches his hand out and it sniffs him with its wet nose. Jason rubs it between the ears. Even though this is for selfish reasons, he appreciates its attention.

“Can you spare seventy cents?” Jason asks. “For a bottle of water?”

The lady, with nowhere to escape to, reaches into her purse, takes out a dollar, and drops it into Jason’s open hand. Jason thanks her sweetly. When she walks away, he can’t hide his shit-eating grin.

Jason manages to gather up seven dollars before the coffee shop’s manager comes out and says “scram.” Jason smiles appeasingly as he leaves. He knows better than to get in a fight with someone without holes in their shoes.

At the convenience store, Jason buys an energy drink and a hot dog, like usual. Then he remembers someone is waiting for him and adds a plastic-wrapped breakfast sandwich. He’s wondering whether the stupid girl is a coffee person when the cashier starts giving him suspicious looks, so he grabs another Red Bull and pays quickly.

It’s kind of nice shopping for someone else. Even if it’s a little sad to think about the last time he was shopping for two. He whistles quietly as he walks through the glass door when– oops.

“Watch where you’re going!” he snaps.

The girl steps back and smiles apologetically.

“Oh… It’s you.” The door swings shut behind Jason. “I’d ask you to stop following me, but I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

The girl tilts her head. Maybe she does understand? Whatever.

He gestures for her to follow him. The convenience store people don’t like it when he hangs out right by the door. It creeps out the customers.

There aren’t as many people on the sidewalk anymore; they’ve all gone on with their days. Jason notices that the girl skips a little on her shorter legs to keep up with him. She isn’t wearing socks, he realizes. That can’t be good in this weather.

They stop to sit on the front steps of the law office. Jason pulls the food out of his plastic grocery bag and hands the sandwich to the girl. She takes it gratefully. He takes out his hot dog and realizes that the jostling while he was walking has deconstructed it. He shrugs.

“I’m guessing you’re new around here,” Jason says. “You’re not supposed to just latch on to people.”

The girl starts tearing greedily into her sandwich.

“I do pretty well on my own. I’m not gonna babysit you, you know.”

She nods. Again, Jason isn’t sure she’s taking in what he’s saying.

“Seriously. You can’t hang out with me. I’m busy.”

She smiles. Jason rolls his eyes.

“I like being alone.”

The sandwich is gone. She points to his hot dog.

“I mean, I guess,” he says, handing it to her. She looks at it for a second. A guilty expression falls on her face and she hands it back. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Cassandra,” she says.

“Wait, you can talk?”

“Jason,” she says, patting his shoulder.

The snow is dirty, but the sun glints off it prettily. Jason hates to admit it, but he’s in a pretty good mood right now.

#batman #dcu #jason todd #cassandra cain #street siblings au #dc #me writing

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hotpinkhoshi · 5 years

Text

kiss it better | prologue

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

✩ index here ✩

Your favorite thing about living on your own, hands down, was having the freedom to eat ice cream whenever you pleased.

It had been a hot summer in Seoul, hot enough that you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out without being painfully aware of the sweat on the back of your neck and the space where your thighs touched each other.

Today was hotter than yesterday had been. Sticky and humid, like it needed to rain. You’d gone out with your new friend, Yiren, to shop for some new records. Well, she shopped for records—you bought a cheap ice cream bar from the convenience store around the corner.

While waiting outside of the record store for Yiren to check out, you leaned against the side of a bench while taking in the area.

You’d moved to Seoul at the start of the summer, and you still felt like a little fish in a big pond. The big, wide world awaited you, and you were desperate to see every inch of it.

A couple giggled outside of a bakery next to you. You tried not to stare as the boy, tall and gangly, wrapped his arms around the female and pulled her into his chest. You wondered how it felt to be held like that.

Across the road, a stark contrast to the pale pink and yellow scheme of the bakery, sat a tattoo shop. Paradise Tattoo, the sign read, in neon blue. A dark haired man, maybe your age or a little older, sat on the steps drinking an iced coffee while bobbing his head to whatever was playing on his earbuds. Even from afar you could make out the sleeve on his left arm, made up of swirls and lines of black ink.

He lifted his head from his phone and caught your eye. You blinked and quickly looked away, gasping when your sudden movement caused the top scoop of your ice cream to topple onto the street.

“Noooooo,” you whined, a full pout forming on your lips. You’d barely even gotten to take a full bite.

“Sucks,” you heard Yiren say from behind you. She had a plastic bag of records, so full you were honestly surprised she could carry it.

You sighed, tossing the empty cone into the trash can next to you. “And I thought today would be a good day.”

Yiren laughed as she bounded up to you, linking her free arm through yours. “It is a good day. You got paid today, remember? What do you wanna do with all your cash?”

You snorted, fully prepared to make a comment about how you needed to save for a security deposit on an apartment. Your eyes drifted back to the tattoo shop, but the man sitting there was gone. You chewed your lip and glanced back at Yiren, nodding towards the shop.

“I’ve never been in a tattoo shop before. Want to check it out?”

Yiren, as usual whenever you expressed one more thing you’d never done before, gasped dramatically. “You what?! I swear, Y/N, you should be in a museum. You’re so cute.”

When she moved to pinch your cheeks, you swatted her hands away. “Gah. Let’s just go.”

You dragged her across the street and up the few steps that lead to the front door of the shop. You heard a ding once the door was halfway opened, signaling your entrance. The cool air of the shop comforted you immediately, offering you some relief from the sticky air outside.

It sort of looked how you’d imagined it, but brighter. There was hard metal blasting on the speakers above you, with framed drawings of all sorts of tattoo styles adorning the deep red walls.

Doubling as a desk, on your left side was a glass jewelry display case with different earrings and bars that were used for piercings in various body parts. Sitting behind this desk was a girl with bright green hair and thick framed glasses.

“Hi! Do you have an appointment?” she asked cheerily, her tone the complete opposite of what you’d expected. You’d never seen anyone with a neck tattoo, but she had hers proudly displayed—a snake traveling from her chest and around towards the nape of her neck, the head appearing on the other side.

“Um,” you said, glancing towards Yiren.

She jumped in. “No. Do you talk walk ins? My friend was thinking about getting a tattoo.”

“I-” you started, your eyes widening at Yiren. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The girl behind the counter nodded and turned around in her swivel chair, reaching for a big black binder that was sitting upon a shelf behind her.

“Here, we have some photos and drawings of previous tattoos our artists have done. We have five artists. Youngjae, Jackson, Mark, and Yugyeom. And me, but I mostly do piercings. Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?”

You flipped open the binder, greeted on the first page by a portrait of a very voluptuous, very naked woman that had been tattooed onto someone’s leg. It took a conscious effort not to show your shock, simply because you didn’t need Yiren cooing at you again.

“Well, I like…” you thought about it as you continued flipping the next few pages, until you came upon a drawing of a rose, a soft pink color that reminded you of the bakery across the street. There was a series of pages full of drawings of flowers, different types and shades of the rainbow. “Who did these? These are beautiful.”

“Ah,” the girl nodded, leaning her chin upon her hand. “That would be Mark. He’s great at flowers, they’re sort of his specialty. Youngjae does beautiful portraits. Jackson’s shading is unbelievable. And Yugyeom is new, but his lines are incredible.”

Yiren snickered next to you. “It must be great working with all these guys.”

The girl raised her eyebrows, an amused smirk on her lips. “Please. They’re not exactly my type.”

Just as Yiren opened her mouth for a follow up question, a male voice called from the direction of the hallway to your left.

“Dahyun, did you get any napkins from the coffee shop? Yugyeom spilled his shit all over-”

Looking up, you saw a guy walking towards you. Perfectly styled hair, a chiseled jawline, and tattoos covering both of his very toned arms. He stopped in his tracks, then gave you an apologetic bow.

“Sorry, I didn’t know we had a customer.”

Dahyun rolled her eyes and grabbed for a stack of napkins next to her. “Here. And tell Yugyeom he’s on mop duty tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guy saluted Dahyun, then turned on his heel and jogged back down the hallway to one of the rooms.

“Anyway,” Dahyun continued. “We do take walk ins. It’s been slow today, honestly, so if you wanted to get a smaller piece we could probably make it work. Youngjae’s tattooing someone right now, but other than that, it’s wide open.”

You gulped. Now that it was real, you were feeling a bit panicked. But you were drawn to the image of the pale lilac flower on the page in front of you, as if it was calling to you. As silly as it sounded, just looking at it brought you a sense of calm.

“Could I… could I get this?” you asked meekly.

Dahyun turned her head to view the picture, then nodded her head. “Of course. Do you know where you want it?”

You looked at Yiren, a question in your eyes. It had to be somewhere you could hide it. Your parents strongly disapproved of tattoos. To be fair, they disapproved of every aspect of your life already, so how much worse could it get? Still, you wanted the option to cover it up if you needed to.

“You could get it on your ribs, maybe?”

Dahyun inhaled sharply. “Ah, I wouldn’t recommend that. Hurts like a bitch. Shoulders and hips are pretty painless though, that’s where a lot of newbies get their first.”

Worrying at your lower lip, you stared down at the flower once more, then up at Dahyun. “The back of my shoulder, would that be okay?”

“It’s your party, princess. It shouldn’t hurt too much, and if you get it small enough it’ll be over before you know it.”

Dahyun went ahead and printed out the sketch after you told her just how big you wanted it, and modified the color to a deeper purple. She went back to talk to the artist, Mark, then returned a few minutes later and told you to follow her back.

“He’s ready for you. We’ll go over all the aftercare and fun stuff once it’s all done, okay?” she said as she led the two of you back to Mark’s room. You stuffed your shaking hands into the pockets of your shorts, not wanting him to see how nervous you were.

Once you came to the threshold of the room, you first noticed all of the drawings on the walls. Not just flowers, but trees, portraits, still life sketches… all of it. Apparently flowers weren’t the only thing this guy could draw.

Mark had his back to you, sifting through a box full of colored ink bottles. You realized without even seeing his face that this was the guy you’d seen on the steps of the shop earlier. Up close, you could see more of his sleeve. Right on the back of his arm was a large tattoo of a lion’s face, jaw wide open in a roar.

“Sorry, go ahead and sit-” he started as he turned towards you, his jaw dropping once he made eye contact. “Y/N?”

It took you a long moment to realize where you knew him from, and it wasn’t just because you’d seen him across the road earlier. You hadn’t seen him in at least six years, but you knew him right away. How could you not have recognized him before?

You’d practically grown up with him. He’d eaten countless dinners at your family table while your mom fawned over him and pinched his cheeks, asking why your older brother couldn’t be more like him.

The last time you’d seen him was Taehyung’s going away party just before he left for his year-long backpacking experience in Europe. You’d only been sixteen at the time, but Mark was nine years older than you.

Besides the sleeve of tattoos and the deep red hair he was sporting, he hadn’t changed much since then.

“Mark?”

full chapter one to be posted march 17th, 7pm est

#got7 #mark tuan #writing #got7 fanfic #mark tuan fanfic #got7 smut #got7 imagine #got7 scenario #got7 writing #mark tuan smut #mark tuan angst #mark tuan imagine

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seoulnotes · 4 years

Text

Love Is Not Over — knj

Inspired by lyrics from Love Is Not Over by BTS

Track 2 of The Playlist Series

S Y N O P S I S | Namjoon wants a divorce; he fell out of love. y/n has one request for her to sign the papers: Namjoon has to act like the husband he once was for the last month of their marriage before he stopped caring. Is 30 days long enough to save love?

P A I R I N G | Kim Namjoon, reader (y/n)

G E N R E | angst (a lot), fluff (a bit) ; PG-13

W A R N I N G S | none

W O R D C O U N T | 4.5k

사랑이란 아프고 아픈 것

이별이란 아프고 더 아픈 것 같애

니가 없으면 나 안될 것 같아

사랑해줘 사랑해줘

다시 내 품으로 와줘

—

Love is so painful

Goodbyes are even more painful

I can’t go on if you’re not here

Love me, love me

Come back to my arms

You already knew what the bound papers Namjoon gripped were as he approached you at the kitchen counter before he had set them onto the countertop.

“What is this?” You feigned ignorance as if you hadn’t discovered the bound papers hiding in Namjoon’s dresser a week prior when you were doing the laundry. It wasn’t a good hiding place. Although, the words in bold at the top of the front page were mocking you far more now as Namjoon set the papers before you.

You were hurt having found them hiding, but now that they were glaring at you on the countertop you just cleaned, you couldn’t help the way your heart shriveled just a bit within your chest.

It was an inevitable end that was coming and it had finally arrived after months of apprehension.

For months, he slowly distanced from you, bit by bit. You felt him slipping away, losing hold on promises he bound himself to in front of both your families. He rarely even touched you anymore.

It started with the little things like your kisses or hugs. He didn’t return them the same at first and then he stopped altogether. Then he slowly spoke less to you. You thought it was because of stress or work, but you couldn’t have been farther from it. A normal stressed filled month never went this far.

He distanced himself so far away you couldn't pull him back even if you tried. And you did, so much. You wondered if there was someone else.

“How was today?” It took enough built up courage for you to speak with him as he walked through the doors. You tried to uphold a smile on your lips as an offering from you.

“Fine,” just one word without even taking a glance towards you to acknowledge your presence.

“Did you eat yet?” Another attempt.

“Yeah.” It made you look at the plates set on the counter with cling film around it. You made dinner for two, but only one person was home.

He continued to walk further down the hall and you trailed behind him with just a bit of courage left after the initial rejection. He laid down on his back.

You leaned against the doorframe. “Are you okay?” Perhaps it would be your last try at trying to talk to him.

“y/n, I'm really tired,” just four words and you knew he didn't want you there. It was probably the most he had spoken to you in a while.

With that, you turned to walk back. When you thought you had reached a far enough distance with a door in between, you crouched down as your vision became blurry. You were defeated; his rejection was enough to shut you out of your attempts to reconcile what was broken.

You let it out. All the built-up frustration came out in cries you attempted to muffle with your hand.

Maybe he had heard it, but either way, he didn't do anything about it.

When enough time passed and you felt more numb towards the matter, you emptied all the dishes on the counter and went to bed. Next to him.

You slept that night with a lovely dream. You dreamt that he would hold you close like he used to with his arms slung around your waist as he pressed tightly to you.

If you dream hard enough, you would be on cloud nine and would feel a slight warmth around you as if he was holding you.

But the next morning you woke up to his side empty.

“I want a divorce.” His words were laced with utter gentleness as if speaking to a child. He knew what he was asking of you. “Just look through the terms and change anything if you need to.”

“Why? Do you have someone else?” You felt pricking in your eyes and that familiar lump in your throat, but you forced yourself to speak.

“No, I don’t,” there was a firmness in his voice. He was telling the truth leading you to further question how things got this way.

“If you can’t tell me why, I can’t accept this.” The lump at the back of your throat became harder to swallow and it was near overpowering the stability of your voice.

“I-,” it seemed the words were hard for him to get out. They were stuck at his throat, unable to be formed by his tongue and he paused.

You knew what he was going to say before he even began the first syllable.

He didn’t love you anymore. You wished you knew what had gone sour.

“Please y/n, please do it for me?” His tone was begging.

This was the most you had spoken to each other in months and it was him asking for a divorce.

At the end of the day, human selfishness was stronger than human logic. Instead of allowing him a chance to escape your marriage which no longer brought him happiness, you turned your body and stood from the chair.

For so long you had wanted his attention, for you both to be in the same room. At this very moment, you wanted nothing but the opposite, to be alone and away from him.

As you turned your back to walk away, you said quietly, “I want to be alone, please.” You took the divorce papers and went down the hall to the guest bedroom.

With yourself locked away, you allowed your emotions to take over and the tears to fall.

What had you done for this to go so wrong?

He'd peek into the room when he came home once every day to check on you. You made sure to avoid him with times that aligned with his schedule. You left the room when he would be out for work and slipped back in around the time when he would arrive home.

The first couple of days were avoidance out of hurt. You cried and cried, but you did it quietly when he was home.

After the initial tide of emotions, you began to briefly look over the papers considering. Those days, you slowly began to abandon the avoiding. You did what you wanted to do and he didn’t bother you.

You caught him at times, eyes glancing towards you, probably noticing the dark circles that formed from nights of not sleeping or the redness of your eyes, and you swore his eyes hid worry as his hand went to the air to reach out to comfort you. He’d catch himself mid-air and then rush to slide his hands back into his pockets.

One day, he came back to see you out of bed and sitting at the counter. Laid out in front of you were the divorce papers and a black pen.

You slid the papers to his view. You had crossed out all of his terms. You crossed out all the terms that gave you anything he was giving you out of pity. The house, your car, you didn’t want any of it.

“I don’t want any of it.”

His eyes held confusion as they began to gloss over what you scribbled next to it. It wasn’t anything of value or you could trade for money after the divorce; it was more like a deal.

He can get what he wants and you can get closure.

Then it would be fair for both of you.

For one month, your last month before divorcing, you both will act like that last month was the first month of your marriage, when things were right. You will act as if there isn’t a divorce, just like how you used to be.

“Just one month. That’s all I want. At the end of 30 days, I’ll sign it.”

To be honest, he was looking at you as if you had grown three heads. “y/n, one month is not going to fix what is broken.”

You shook your head. It would be a dream if that could happen, but you knew reality better than that. “That isn’t what I want. I just want closure so I could remember the end as happy.”

Even if it wasn’t real, at least to pretend to love me for one last time.

That’s what you really wanted to say, but it sounded too pitiful coming from you who was basically asking him to play husband for one last time. At least for one month, you'd receive the love that was once lost; even if it wasn't real.

After a drawn-out moment of silence, Namjoon met your eyes. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“I have one more request. Every day, carry me to bed for this last month.”

It received another strange look, but he nodded. You honestly didn’t think he would have agreed and in some time, you would have signed the papers regardless.

That very day started the 30 days and you were beginning to think it was an extremely terrible idea.

Namjoon forced everything he did that day with you. It was as if you were both strangers, he didn’t know what to say to you when you ate dinner, leading the air to hang in thick silence and the worst came when he had to carry you to bed.

You were both sitting on the sofa. “Do you want me to stand? Would that be easier?”

To be honest, despite the divorce lingering in the air, the entire situation was quite humorous.

He shook his head and turned towards you. He bent down to slide an arm behind your knees and another arm behind your back.

“Hold on or I’m gonna drop you,” he half-joked with a quiet chuckle.

You obliged and looped your arms around his neck. “You’re out of practice,” you joked back.

Unfortunately, the words didn’t sit well and Namjoon answered back in a still tone. “I suppose I am.” With that, he moved towards the bedroom and gently placed you onto the bed.

He disappeared into the attached bathroom and reappeared moments later, dropping onto the bed beside you.

You supposed sleeping in the same bed every night was also a part of becoming a husband again. As much as you wanted to ask for more, asking for something like him sleeping with you in his arms would just be ridiculous.

When the one week mark rolled around, the routine wasn’t as awkward as the earlier days. This morning, Namjoon woke up before you and snuck out of the room.

When you woke up, you were surprised it was by his hand gently shaking you and the first thing you smelled was coffee.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” his lips curved into a smile and he offered the mug of coffee towards you.

“Coffee? For me?” You were still in your sleepy state, sitting up, and blinking a couple of times to adjust yourself to the situation.

“Coffee in bed, for the both of us,” he added and handed you the mug.

It was warm in your hands. You took a sip; you had not had his coffee in nearly half a year.

Namjoon walked around to his side and slipped in next to you leaning on the headboard. “I suppose it is fair that we have coffee in bed for these couple of weeks since we used to do it all the time.”

You knew what he was really trying to say behind those words.

Yes, you used to have coffee in bed every morning for as many mornings that would allow between both of your work schedules. The real meaning was when he used to wake you up every morning with a hot cup of coffee. He did that and he did it every morning, never missing one.

When you went on vacation or stayed away from home, he found a way to get instant coffee or bought coffee from any shops nearby to surprise you in the morning.

You nodded. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Yeah, I forgot how nice this used to be.”

He thought you were referring to the coffee. You shook your head. “Thank you for the coffee, but thank you for agreeing to do this. I know it’s kinda ridiculous and you might think I’m trying to make you love me again, but it’s not really my intention.” I don’t think that’ll happen anyway.

“I just wanted a nice conclusion you know? That we both said a proper goodbye and remembered the good things better, fresh in our mind, instead of the bad things.” You took another sip of coffee.

“If I’m being honest, I’m glad you chose to do this,” he mused.

While other people liked to spill feelings and nonsensical thoughts over wine or alcohol, you both liked your mornings with coffee in bed better. The comfort of warm sheets and a nice mug of coffee brought peacefulness to your minds. You didn’t mind sharing your thoughts with him and he didn’t mind sharing his thoughts with you.

Guess that was one thing that had never changed.

It was the weekend and that meant your days off. It also meant Namjoon’s days off if there wasn’t anything on his schedule.

Weekends you both had found were the hardest in all of the days of the week to spend with each other. During workdays, it would be a simple dinner, a couple of hours of watching T.V. or spare time, and then off to bed. You really only spent a couple of hours together for the weekdays.

For weekends, it meant the entire day that you had to spend with each other.

At least it was the middle of the month and you were set to do many tasks including laundry from the past week, cleaning the entire house, and shopping for the next two weeks of groceries and other things that you were out of.

“I’ve got some errands today. I mean, you could come with or just do something by yourself.” You swiped through shirts in your closet and chose one.

He was sitting in the bed behind you as you pulled on the shirt you’d wear out.

“Joon? Got an answer?” You began to button your shirt.

“I’ll come with,” he offered, though it took him a seriously long time to answer such a simple question.

No, he had been too distracted, watching you and you noticed realizing that it had been months since he had seen that much of you.

“It’s not something you hadn’t seen before,” you teased. “Or touched.” Which prompted his face to turn a shade of red.

“Groceries!” He attempted to diffuse his own humiliation with a laugh and darted towards the front door.

You realized the intimacy in your marriage had been missing for a long time. You missed the intimacy of Namjoon loving you and all of you. He made you feel confident in your own body when he used to remind you how much he loved every inch of you.

You shook your head and followed him to the door. Now was not the time to be bringing up things you might begin to long for when the divorce was still on the table.

All the while driving to the store, you had the urge to reach over and grab his hand, but you refrained.

Shopping with someone other than yourself proved to be another thing that had gone in your marriage. Groceries on the weekend used to be a two-person job.

It was nice to have someone push the cart behind you while you went searching through every aisle for the items on your list. It was amusing to see the spark in Namjoon’s eyes when you went into the snack aisle and him wanting to fill the rest of the cart with snacks.

“We can’t survive off snacks!” You began to laugh as he swiped numerous items from the shelves.

It felt normal today. It felt normal because this day wasn’t forced. Namjoon didn’t force himself to be your husband again; he naturally began to fill the role.

At the beginning of the 30 days, you almost signed the papers and escaped your own terms. The awkwardness that was yet to overcome was almost unbearable, but falling into this old routine became normal again.

You wanted a conclusion, to end this happy and full of good memories. Instead, you were a dog that was being led on, treat after treat, and you didn’t want this to end. You came to realize you missed all the things that used to be every day in your life. You came to realize that you wanted this so much that you made this ridiculous deal up so you could get it again.

30 days later, you felt the dread of 12 PM hitting the following day. What you had feared had happened: you didn’t want to let it go.

However, at 12 PM, you would take a pen and sign those lines on the divorce papers as promised. It was only fair for you to complete your end of the deal.

Thankfully, the one thing that could potentially have you unraveled completely didn’t occur.

Thankfully, Kim Namjoon had not kissed you.

“Ready for bed?” You attempted to muster a smile.

Namjoon had not shown any sign of dejection for the impending date. He only continued to work towards completing his part of the deal of being your husband again.

“Yeah,” his lips curved slightly as he approached you.

His arms were quick to slide behind you and your knees and pick you up from the ground.

“At least you’re not as bad as before when we started this,” you joked.

Namjoon released a chuckle, throwing his head back slightly. You joined him, releasing a small laugh yourself.

He hasn’t moved yet. After silence settled, he took steps towards the bedroom.

Each step felt like they were taking longer than before, but you weren’t sure if it was just in your head. You subconsciously let your arm fall onto his chest, wanting to be closer if it was even possible with him practically carrying you.

You breathed in a deep breath and noted to remember the way he smelled, a lingering scent of his cologne, the laundry detergent that you used to wash your clothes, and… peaches?

“Did you use my body wash?” You rose your head to look at him and realize that you stopped moving. Turning your head, you were met with your bed and you waited for Namjoon to place you down.

Except he didn’t budge.

“Aren’t you gonna put me down?” You asked with slight humor in your tone after he didn’t move for another minute. You placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder to grasp his attention.

“I don’t want to.” He spoke so quietly that the words were barely audible to you.

You felt a frown tug on your lips. “What’s wrong?”

Instead of responding or repeating himself, he shook his head as if to get rid of whatever was lingering in his mind. He gently placed you onto the bed, but when he was leaning down to remove his arms, he lingered for a second longer.

He wanted this closeness. He shifted his eyes to you and the confusion knitted on your features at his strange actions tonight.

He disregarded your confusion and allowed him to truly see you for the first time in a long time. As his eyes roamed your face, he remembered how beautiful the girl he fought for so hard was.

He remembered your eyes that were always bright like stars reminding him to be hopeful and find the best in anything. He remembered that he hated it when he saw tears in those beautiful eyes because they would dull with the tears washing out any ounce of happiness. He remembered that he was someone who made you cry like that.

His eyes flitted to your lips and remembered the feeling of kissing them. Most importantly, he remembered the way they moved when you spoke or curved into the most beautiful smiles that anyone who saw them might be charmed. He remembered he fell for that smile.

He remembered the curves of your face and how bare the side of your face looked right now because he was used to having his hands caress that exact spot. He wanted to do it right now and subconsciously, he did. His hand raised in the slowest motion and you didn’t stop him when they gently caressed your face.

You didn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch even though you know you shouldn’t. He was just having a moment and you didn’t want to believe it was anything more than that.

This was a level of intimacy he had not felt in a while and he came to the conclusion that he was partially to blame. 30 days of trying even if it was pretending in the beginning, it made him feel again. Pretending brought back memories, actions like riding a bike, ones that you didn’t use in a while, but they were built in.

Along the way, he realized one of the faults was that he stopped trying. He stopped giving and kept taking. At the same time, it led him to lose the feelings that came with giving.

Taking gets too boring after a while.

He took advantage of the term marriage. He got too comfortable.

“Joon?”

He moved slightly as if you reeled him out of his thoughts once again. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

Instead, he leaned his head towards yours. You stayed frozen; he was not about to do what you least wanted.

He did; he did the one thing that would release you of any control you had over the situation.

His lips were on yours.

He didn’t hold back the emotions that he no longer kept a chain on and deepened the kiss.

It felt like poison yet if the kiss was poison, you wanted to get drunk on it. You lost control over yourself for a second, kissing back and having your hands grasping his hair and sliding down his neck and his back. The feeling that your fingers had longed for and the lips you longed to feel against your own.

Then the leash came back.

You pulled away quickly out of his hold. Shame caught a hold of you and you frowned. Honestly, you were angry. Angry that he would mess with you like that. “Don’t kiss me like that. No, don’t kiss me at all.”

He ducked his head as if just realizing how far his emotions took him. “I’m sorry.”

You wanted to ask him why he was doing this. You want to know if your own hope was fulfilled; you bit your lip to stop the questions from surfacing.

You didn’t want empty hope. It was better to let curiosity be.

Instead, you just slipped the covers over you and turned away from him.

You were already awake when Namjoon brought your coffee the next morning.

It was silent, but not like before. The silence had weight.

“You don’t want to sign it,” he spoke beside you.

“Do you want the truth or something to make you feel better?” You didn’t want to make it sound so harsh, but your words had a bite to them.

“I think the truth and what I want to hear to make me feel better would be the same,” he said, nothing but honesty in his tone.

You didn’t like that he was using riddles. They only made you feel hopeful he wanted the same as you, but he was too scared to admit it.

“What would that be?” You questioned. You wanted to hear him say it.

“That you don’t want to sign it. That after 30 days, you found that this was not a worthy conclusion. That this was not something that put your feelings to rest,” he said. “That you still feel something after this month.”

“You’re right. All of it.” But you couldn’t bring it in you to turn your head to show the truth in your eyes. You were leaving your feelings vulnerable and for all you knew, he could be playing a cruel joke.

“y/n, I don’t want the divorce.”

To hear him say it, you didn’t know why you felt anger rising within you. He was the want who wanted this. He was the one who put you through months of hell and self-doubt that you weren’t good enough and brought divorce onto the table.

The remaining love you nurtured the past month was like cold water splashing onto the fury you felt.

“You’re the one who wanted it in the first place,” bitter. Now you really couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“And it’s my fault. In 30 days I realized I still love you and I let that slip from me.” Namjoon knew that whatever he wanted to say, they would never be good in words, but he was willing to try.

You were conflicted because the work of trying to bring yourself to face the fact that you were going to divorce the one person in the world you would never, was being shattered by this decision he came to face.

You were prepared to give up some of your happiness and out of love, give him freedom and happiness. You didn’t want him trapped in this marriage even if you still loved him.

Now he wanted to stay.

But you wanted him to stay. After 30 days, you’ve come to remember the feeling of being loved again and giving love. You didn’t want to let that go.

You didn’t realize opposing thoughts ripping through your mind made your heart ache so. It was crumbling within your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice was weak. He didn’t know if even he would forgive himself for having brought up something like divorce only to take it back. “I know I stopped trying and I know I put you through hell, but,” he paused because you reached under the blanket to grasp his hand.

He was asking for a second chance to start over and you were willing to give it.

“We can try,” you said. For the first time in this conversation, you brought your eyes to meet his with confirmation in them.

It was something that wasn’t nothing. Of course, you wanted to give it to him. You just had to tread on the thin sheet of trust you had for him now and hope it wouldn’t break below you as he slowly worked to bring that trust back again.

Namjoon knew he would have a lot of work to bring things back to what once was if it was even possible.

Subsequently, that afternoon, the divorce papers were shredded and you both began to try once again to fix your marriage. This time, both parties were aiming for the same goal.

a/n

i don’t know how to feel about this one guys, is it angsty enough lol?

yours truly, Selene ♡

#bangtanarmynet #bangtanfairygarden #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts angst #namjoon scenarios #bts #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts x you #bts x reader #w: love is not over #w: the playlist series #writing

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Office Neighbors - Part Nine

a/n: more Andy angst, some embarrassing dad moments, and the ski trip, not proofread (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!)

warnings: slight angst, fluff, and smut

words: 17K

masterpost

Caroline had started coming to some of Andy’s basketball games, which you could tell went right up Brandon’s ass because Andy would want to talk with her after the game. She was his girlfriend now, though, so what could Andy do? It was really sweet, he told you all about how he asked her out, and not Harry. He had called her and just asked her if she wanted to be his girlfriend and she said yes immediately.

“Do you wanna meet my dad?” Andy asks her after his game.

“Yeah!”

He takes her hand and walks her over to where all of the parents were sitting and talking while all of the boys got their things together.

“Dad, this is Caroline.”

“Oh! Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” He extends his hand for her to shake and she blushes. She gives Andy a funny look.

“What?”

“You didn’t say your dad was British…”

“Oh, well sometimes I forget, honestly.”

You burst out laughing at that and try to compose yourself as Harry side eyes you.

“Anyways…” Harry says. “I’ve heard so many good things. You’re from Maine?”

“Mhm, we just moved here, and-“

“Caroline.” Mrs. Stearn comes walking over to the group. “We need to go, you still have homework to do.”

“Oh, sorry, Mom, I was just saying hello to Mr. Styles, you know, Andy’s dad.”

“Hi.” He smiles at her and shakes her hand. “You just started at the university, right? Y/N and I are professors in the CM department.”

“Oh! Yes, I’m in the Psychology department. My husband also just started there. He’s the new Director of Operations for the IT department.”

“Wow.” You say, impressed.

“So, you’re the woman who chaperoned their first couple of dates?” Mrs. Stearn smirks.

“That would be me, yeah.” You smile. “Harry was in London at the time.”

“Well, I appreciate it, honestly. I felt terrible we couldn’t really have Andy over since we were still unpacking. We sort of still are. We’ll have a housewarming at some point.” She sighs and looks at Caroline. “Ready to go, honey?”

“Mhm, bye, Andy.”

“Bye.” They smile at each other before her and her mother head out.

“She seems nice, tired, but nice.” You say. “She has three other daughters all in high school.”

“That can definitely be tiring.” Harry chuckles. “Are you ready?” He says to Andy.

“Let me just say bye to Brandon.” Andy races over to Brandon to say goodbye before you all head out.

“Andy, you played so well. You’re good at everything.” You say in the car.

“I actually sucked at basketball when I first started. Mr. Stewart is just a really good coach. Brandon taught me how to skateboard too. He’s the one that’s good at everything.”

“You’ve shown him some art tricks.” Harry points out.

“True. Art starts up this week, I’m so excited. We get to do more clay stuff, I can’t wait.”

“Maybe we could go to that pottery paint place sometime.” You say. “We could go on a little double date.” You wink at Harry.

“Yeah! Can we, Dad?”

“Sure.” Harry shrugs. “Sounds like fun.”

“And you said we could go ice skating, Saturday, don’t forget.”

“Don’t worry, we’re all set to go to the free skate at the university.” He looks at you. “You’re still coming, yeah?”

“Mhm, although, I can’t promise I’ll stay on my feet for very long. I’m not a strong skater.” You laugh.

“I’ll keep you steady.” He puts his hand on your thigh and gives it a squeeze. Andy rolls his eyes not that either of you see.

Syllabus week was alive and well. Your classes were off to a good start, which you were thankful for. Many of the students had gotten to know you by now, so you were starting to see some repeat faces. It gave you a major boost of confidence. It was time for your meeting with Lisa. You had sent her everything you had so she could look it all over beforehand.

“Lisa?” You tap on the outside of her office door.

“Come in, Y/N!” She beams. “Please have a seat.” You nod and close the door before sitting down. “How was your break? I know we spoke a bit during the faculty meeting, but we didn’t really get to catch up.”

“Oh, it was good. Got a lot done, relaxed a little.”

“That’s great. I heard you got to spend some time with little Andy while Harry was in London?”

“I did.” You nod. “It was some good quality time.”

“I’m sure everyone says it to you, but I just think it’s so wonderful you and Harry got together. You’re such a great pair.”

“Oh, um, thank you.”

“Anyways, let’s get down to it, shall we? What you have so far is really good. You’re very articulate in your writing. It’s clear and concise. I think anyone who’s not up on the times of social media and anonymity would be able to follow along, but it’s also no to so low level that someone who does know about the subject would be bored, I appreciate that a lot.”

“Thank you, I was worried it almost sounded condescending.”

“Not at all. It’s good that you have those pockets of extra explanation.” You nod at her. “Keep doing what you’re doing, and I think you’ll have an excellent piece of writing here. However, you also need to be thinking about how you’ll defend yourself during your presentation. You need to start thinking of a committee. Obviously Harry can’t be on it, but I’m sure you know that.”

“Right, major conflict of interest.” You chuckle.

“Exactly.” She chuckles too. “I think Sandra would be a good person to start with. I wouldn’t suggest Janette either since you’re close with her. I’ll obviously be on the committee too. I think some people from the English department could be good as well.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll definitely start thinking of some people. At least Harry can help me with the presentation aspect of things. He’s such a good presenter.”

“He definitely is, that’s an excellent idea.”

You felt better than you thought after your meeting with Lisa, you were practically floating through the halls as you made your way back to your office. After you sit for a few minutes, you look up and see Harry standing in your doorway.

“Hey.” You smile.

“Hi…got a few minutes?”

“Sure! Come on in.”

“Great.” He closes the door and sits down in front of your desk.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Andy’s February break. It’s about a month away, and I know it would be a lot to ask you to cancel your classes for that week, but I’d like if you joined us.”

“Oh, wow, um…would I have fun? I don’t know how to ski, Har.”

“They have beginning adult lessons! I could take one with you so you wouldn’t be alone either.”

“You’d let Andy go off on his own?”

“Well…he wouldn’t be alone…here’s the catch.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “We all had a lot of fun last year, making the trip more of a blended family thing, it was good bonding for everyone, and-“

“You want me to go on a ski trip with you, your son, your ex, her fiancé, and his daughter? Is that what you’re asking me?”

“Yes.”

You lean back in your chair and let a breath out. You go to speak, but nothing comes out. You keep rethinking what you want to say.

“Harry, I-“

“Don’t say no yet. Think about it, yeah? I’d really like it if you were there.”

“That just feels really serious, and you and I haven’t even talked about where this is all going yet.”

“Where what is all going?”

“Our relationship.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious, I didn’t think we needed to have a conversation about it. We always say little things about the future, thought we were solid.”

“We are, but there are things we haven’t exactly discussed.”

“Like what?”

“Like…um, like, Jesus, I can’t talk about this here.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “We’re at work, now isn’t the time.”

“Neither of us have classes for the rest of the day, just talk to me.”

“Harry, I wanna have kids someday, not that I don’t love Andy, and not that I wouldn’t treat him as my own, but I would like to have a baby myself, and I have no idea if you want that too. You could easily not want to do the baby thing again, and I’d like to know that sooner rather than later.”

“If I didn’t are you saying you would break things off? Andy and I wouldn’t be enough?”

“Maybe for a little while, but I feel like I’d become resentful. There’s this piece of me I feel really deep inside myself that’s missing, you know? I know in the grand scheme of things we haven’t been together that long, so I know it’s a lot to be talking about this now, but-“

“No, I get it…you’re valid.” He sighs.

“And I wouldn’t want you to just say yes to me because you want me around. I don’t wanna have a kid with someone that doesn’t want that kid.”

“It would be such a big age difference…Andy would be at college by the time the kid would even know he has a brother, and Andy would just feel like another parent. Wouldn’t even be able to enjoy having a little sibling, would he?” He was more so just thinking out loud because he wasn’t looking at you as he spoke, but then he makes eye contact with you. “How many do you think you’d want to have?”

“Um, I don’t know…two maybe?”

“You, you want to have two of my children?”

“I’d like you to be the father, yeah.” You chuckle. You didn’t really know the weight this carried in Harry’s heart. This was very serious to him. “I’m not in love with anyone else last time I checked.”

“So you want it all with me, then? Marriage, house, kids?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Wow.” He sits back and looks off again.

“There’s no rush or anything, I just want us to be on the same page and make sure we want the same things.”

“No, that’s totally fair, Y/N.” He plucks at his bottom lip as he looks at you. “You realize in order to have all that you’d have to move in with us at some point.” You nod at him. “How do you feel about that? Do you like my house enough to want to live there? I don’t particularly want to move…”

“I love your house! And I have some design ideas that could make it more ours at some point. I think it’s the perfect size.”

“Maybe I should invest in that pool then…” Again, he was just thinking out loud. “I…I could see myself having more kids.” He says, looking at you now. His gaze could be so intimidating sometimes. It was the shape of his eyebrows, he could look so fucking scary.

“Really?” You ask as softly as you can.

“Yeah.” He smiles at you. “If it’s with you, yeah.”

“Oh, Harry.” Your eyes were starting to water. You get up and sit sideways on his lap, hugging him.

“We’re at work, Y/N.”

“Don’t care.” You kiss his cheek and hold him close to you. He holds you just as close, rocking you slightly. His eyes were watery too.

“When, um, when do you think you’d wanna move in?”

“God, I don’t know…my lease is up in July, maybe then?”

“You’d wanna wait that long?”

“I think I should so I can still focus on my work, it’s my quiet space.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” He sighs. “Even though you’ve been staying over more and more.” He smirks at you. “Lot of money to pay for a quiet space.”

“If I feel like I should move in sooner then we can talk about it, but right now I think July is good.”

“Alright, July it is.” He pecks your lips. “Now, what about February break?”

“God, won’t it be awkward?”

“No.” He shrugs. “I had fun last year. You’ve seen how spacious the cabin is, we’d have our own section of the house, so would Noah and Paige, and the kids would stay in the bunk room. Plenty of privacy.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you smack his shoulder.

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna get busy with you under the same roof as all those people.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“It’s a very reluctant yes.”

He kisses you again.

“You’ll have a great time, I promise.”

“You better not laugh at me when I fall a ton on those skis.”

“You learned how to hike no problem, you’ll be a pro at skiing before you know it.”

“Harry…” You stand up. “Walking up a mountain at a leisurely pace is a lot different than zipping down a snowy mountain.”

“So you’ll stick to the bunny trails.” He shrugs and stands up as well. “God, you’re gonna look so sexy in all that gear.”

“Yeah, the helmet hair is gonna be a major turn on.” You roll your eyes.

“Fuck, I better leave before I get a stiffy just thinking about it.” He winks at you and steps out as you shake your head at him.

“Moron.” You laugh to yourself as you sit back down at your desk. You chew on your bottom lip and text Nora immediately.

Saturday rolls around, and you meet up with everyone at the ice arena to go ice skating. Afternoon free skate was something a lot of community members went to, not so much the college students. You smile when you see Harry inside helping Andy and Caroline lace up their skates.

“Hi, Y/N!” Andy says, waving at you.

“Hi.” You sit down on the bench next to Andy and kick your boots.

“Alright, you two are all set, go on.” Harry smiles at Andy and Caroline.

They stand up and hold hands as they walk over to the entrance for the ice. Harry looks up at you and you have grin on your face.

“What?”

“Gonna lace my skates for me too, Daddy?” You bat your lashes at him and his cheeks flush.

“Don’t be a brat.” He mutters as he stands to sit next to you. “And if you really need help I will, but I’m done crouching.” He pulls your leg between his once you get the skates on. You’re almost mesmerized by watching his strong hands pull the laces nice and tight. “Next.” He says as you switch legs. “Your hat’s cute.”

“Thanks, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Your hair looks pretty with it like that.” He mumbles as he finishes your laces. You bite your lip and lean in close to him.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” You whisper and his eyes flick to your eyes. “You don’t need to butter me up, you’re gonna get laid later.”

You hadn’t been over much in the last few days so you could get some work done, and you knew Harry was missing you physically. You just catch his pupils widen from your words.

“Is it such a crime for a guy to compliment his girlfriend?” He scoffs, trying to play it cool.

“Not at all.” You peck his lips and lean back so he can stand up. He puts his hands out for you and you stand. “Whoa.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah, just don’t let go of me.” You clutch at his shoulders.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Andy and Caroline were happily skating around like it was nothing. It seemed like they were racing each other. Harry was happy to see them having such a good time. He gets you gliding on the ice, but your hands stay in his.

“Do you know how to roller skate? You just move your legs the same way.”

“That’s on pavement with wheels, not blades on ice.” You say as you look down.

“I’ve got an idea, hang onto my hips and I’ll lead you around.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He turns around, and you grip onto his love handles (let’s face it, Harry has no hips), and he starts moving forward while you just glide along. You giggle here and there because it really is a lot of fun. It was also impressive that he didn’t seem tired just pulling you along.

“Your dad and Y/N are really cute.” Caroline says to Andy.

“Huh?” He looks over at the two of you. Your arms were now just wrapped around Harry’s neck from behind and he had to lean down a bit because he was so much taller than you. You were laughing really hard. “Yeah, they are.” Andy shakes his head. “They’re really goofy.”

“You’re goofy too.” She nudges his shoulder. “You always make me laugh.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re, like, super funny.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He smirks and it makes her laugh. “Come on.” He takes her hand and they continue to skate around the perimeter of the rink.

“Y/N, you’re starting to choke me.” Harry says and you let go of him.

“And here I was thinking you liked that, my bad.”

“Y/N.” He pulls you to the side as you laugh. “If Andy ever heard you, I-“

“Relax, he’s a little preoccupied.” You nod over to him and Caroline skating in a circle, holding hands and laughing. Harry looks at them and then you, and you kiss his cold nose.

“I’m gonna help you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He has you face forward and he put his hands on your hips (because you actually have hips), and he pushes you forward. “It’ll be like teaching a kid to ride a bike, just glide one foot at time with me.”

“Okay, but don’t let go like a parent would while teaching a kid to learn how to a ride a bike, I’ll never forgive you. All trust between us would be gone.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.”

You end up getting the hang of it enough where you and Harry and can just hold hands and skate around. You stay close to the walls, but still, you’re doing it.

“Hey, Dad?” Andy says, skating over to you both. “Can I have some money for hot chocolate? We’re gonna take a break.”

“Sure.” He reaches into his pocket for his wallet, and takes out ten dollars for Andy. “Figured we could go downtown for a slice after, so don’t fill up.”

“Alright! Thanks.”

You sort of wished you could just pull Harry in for a kiss, and even make out with him, but you couldn’t with all the families around. You’d just have to wait. It doesn’t stop you from kissing his cheek every so often though. Harry didn’t mind one bit, he loved it when you were a little more affectionate in public.

“I told Andy you were in for the ski trip, by the way.” He mentions nonchalantly.

“Oh? Is he excited?”

“Very, he nearly squealed.” He chuckles. “I’ll tell Paige Friday when she comes to pick him up.”

“Why not just text her?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “It can wait. I don’t really feel the need to chat with her all the time, you know?”

“Right, makes sense.”

Your ankles were killing you by the time you got your skates off, but you didn’t let on about it because everyone else seemed fine. You follow Harry downtown in your car to the pizza place, and sit in the booth with the kids while he gets all the food.

“Andy, why don’t you go help your dad carry everything over?”

“Okay.” He slides out and you smile as he does so. “Did you have fun with him earlier?” You ask Caroline.

“Yeah! I always have fun with Andy. He’s really nice.”

“I’m glad you both get along so well.”

“Me too, I was sort of hoping he’d ask me to be his girlfriend, I was so excited when he did.”

“I know he was excited to ask you.”

Harry and Andy come over with four slices of pizza, and a liter of diet and plastic cups. Harry snatches some napkins as well before sliding in next to you. The table was quiet as you all ate. It dawns on you that maybe you and Harry should have sat in a different booth to give the kids some more privacy, but it would look weird now to get up and move.

“Do they have free skate like that a lot?” Caroline asks.

“Yeah! Even throughout the summer since it’s an indoor rink.” Harry says.

“Good to know, I bet my sisters would wanna go sometime.”

“What grades are they all in?” You ask.

“My oldest sister, Emma, is a senior, and I think she’s planning on going to the university for school next year. My parents even said she could live there so she could get the full experience. And then my other sisters, Sophie and Charlotte are twins, they’re sophomores. I was sort of a surprise.” She giggles.

“Most kids are.” Harry says with a smile. “Good surprises though.” He leans forward to pinch Andy’s cheek and Andy swats his hand away immediately.

“That’s exciting that Emma wants to come to our school. I think we have a great curriculum across the board.” You say and the kids just blink at you. “Um, we have some great professors is all I mean.”

After pizza, you tell Harry you’ll meet him back at his place since he needed to bring Caroline home. Andy walks her to her door and they hug goodbye.

“I had a lot of fun today, Andy.”

“Me too. Um, we were thinking of going to that pottery place where you can’t paint stuff sometime. Is that something you think you’d wanna do?” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Definitely.” She smiles and hugs him again. This time she lingers and gives him a light peck on the cheek. “See you Monday.”

“Yeah…see you Monday.”

Harry saw the whole thing, and he was trying not to laugh at his wide eyed son as he came back to the car.

“Did you see?”

“I did.” Harry says as he backs out of the driveway.

“She kissed my cheek.”

“It was very nice of her.”

Andy presses his fingers where she had kissed him.

“Should I have done it to her?”

“Only if you felt like it.”

“I didn’t think she was gonna…I mean…wow.” He sighs happily. “Wait until I tell Brandon.”

You were inside the house already, reading something on your phone on the couch as you waited for them. You look up when you hear the door open. Andy’s face was flushed, but he had a smile on his face. He goes right to his room and closes his door.

“What happened?” You ask as Harry plops down next to you.

“Got a little smooch on the cheek, and now he needs to discuss the whole thing with Brandon.”

“How cute!” You pout. “Sorry I missed it.”

“I was really cute. She’s smooth, she went in for another hug and pecked him.”

“Ah, so he walked her to the door?”

“Course he did, I didn’t raise a degenerate.” Harry scoffs and you laugh. You snuggle up to him as he puts an arm around you.

“No, you certainly didn’t.” Harry kisses the top of your head and flips the TV on.

You were itching for some true alone time with Harry, so around eight you tell them both that you’re a little tired, and that you were going to turn in early. Harry watches as you go down the hall to his room.

“Andy, uh, why don’t you watch TV on your laptop in your room?”

“Why?”

“Because the noise from the TV could keep Y/N up. In fact, I might turn in early too. All the fun today really tuckered me out.”

“Whatever.” Andy shrugs and gets up to go to his room.

Harry plays it cool, not wanting to seem too eager, as he walks slowly behind him into his own room. He walks in and sees you just laying on the bed scrolling on your phone. He locks the door and comes over to you.

“You don’t look like you’re going to bed.”

“I just said that to get you to come in here, glad you picked up on the hint.” You set your phone down, and he takes his glasses off. The second he’s on the bed you’re straddling him. “Where’s Andy?”

“I told him to go watch TV on his computer.”

You grin and lean down to kiss him. You suck on his top lip first and then his bottom. His hands slide down to your ass, and he tries to get his hands inside your jeans to untuck your shirt, but he gives you a wedgie by accident.

“Oh! Stop!” You sit up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m wearing a fucking bodysuit.”

“Oh shit, sorry.” He chuckles. “I was gonna say your shirt’s really stuck in there.”

“I wanna kiss for a bit before we get naked, is that okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiles and cups your cheek, bringing you back down to him.

You lick in his mouth and roll your hips down on his. His hands splay across your back as he keeps you close. You kiss along his jaw, and sponge kisses to his neck. You know you can sink your teeth in, so you just lick and suck gently. He moans softly as you grind against him.

“Y/N.” He groans. “Can we get naked now?”

Friday evening Paige swings by to pick up Andy for the weekend. She comes in to not be out in the cold. You were hanging out in some sweats since you couldn’t wait to change after you got home from work.

“Hi, Y/N.” Paige smiles.

“Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Ready to go?” She says to Andy as he comes out with his duffle.

“Mhm, hi, Mum.” He gives her a quick hug.

“Hi, honey.”

“So, Paige, uh, Y/N’s gonna join us in a few weeks up at the cabin.” Harry says as he walks closer to her with his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, that’s great! Y/N, you’re gonna have so much fun. We ski up at Cranmore, it’s a fantastic mountain.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ll tell Noah and Rachel the second I get home.”

“What’s Gram gonna do while we’re there?” Andy asks.

“Auntie Allie and Uncle Ned are gonna come stay with her. She’ll be all taken care of.”

Andy nods and says goodbye to you and Harry before going out to the car.

“Any news on the girlfriend? Still going well?”

“She kissed him on the cheek last Saturday.”

“Oh my.” Paige chuckles. “Have you had a little chat with him yet? I really don’t wanna be the one to do it.”

“We’ve chatted, yeah.” Harry nods. “Mostly on asking before touching, that sort of thing, being respectful. I can’t go fully in depth with him yet, it’ll all go over his head I think.”

“I’m nervous about sticky sheets.” She whispers.

“Hasn’t happened here yet unless he’s gotten up before me to do his own laundry. Think we’re a ways away from that.”

“Oh, thank god.” She sighs with relief. “Okay, I’m headed out. Have a good weekend.” She turns to leave. “Oh! Happy almost birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll have some things for you Sunday when you come to get him. Rachel’s outdone herself for your gift.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Have a good weekend with him.”

“Thanks, bye, Y/N!” She waves off as she leaves.

Harry comes over to lounge on the couch and opens his arms for to come to him. You crawl up his body and settle on his chest.

“Still feeling a little yucky?” He asks. You had caught a little cold after ice skating last week.

“Just a little, but this helps a lot.” You nuzzle into his chest and he rubs your back.

“We don’t have to go out tomorrow night if you don’t feel up to it…”

“No! It’s your birthday weekend, we’re going out, don’t you worry about that. I’m sure I’ll feel better, baby.”

“Okay, just know there’s no pressure. M’only turning thirty-three.” He shrugs. “Remember when you got me flowers last year?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle.

“I think that was when I knew I really fucking liked you.”

“Oh stop.”

“I’m serious, it was the sweetest thing a colleague had ever done for me.”

“Maybe we need some new colleagues then.” You both laugh at that.

“And you brought me some coffee that morning too. I think I was able to keep those flowers alive for a couple of weeks. Tried to anyways.” He kisses the top of your head.

“You and your little budding crush.”

“Hey, it’s better than, ‘well, I was having sex with this guy and I thought of you to get off, so that’s how I knew I like you, Harry’.” You sit up slowly and glare at him while his smile grows. You huff and get off of him. “Oi, where are you going?” He chuckles.

“To the loveseat where I can curl up alone.” You snatch the blanket off the back of the couch and wrap it around yourself before sitting on the loveseat.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Nope, you ruined the moment.”

“It’s funny when you think about it.”

“I’d prefer not to, thanks.” You roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, alright? I was just teasing.”

“You’re always just teasing.” You say in a monotone voice.

Harry gets up from the couch and scoops you up from the loveseat before sitting down with you in his lap.

“There we are.” He says, kissing your temple.

“You’re annoying.”

“Too bad you’re stuck with me, huh?”

“Oh, am I?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yup.” He smiles. “I’m afraid so.”

“Fine.” You sigh. “Can’t fight you much on it when you can so easily man-handle me.”

“Exactly.”

You chuckle and snuggle back into him. He plays with your hair and rubs your back until you fall asleep. It was some much needed rest.

Saturday morning you got up before Harry, somehow, and took a very long shower to clear out your sinuses. You had some work you needed to get done before dinner later, and he knew this, so once you’re out and your hair is dry, you go up to the loft to get some things done while he continues to snooze. Harry’s actual birthday is Monday so you didn’t feel too bad not spending every little second with him.

When you smell coffee from downstairs, you know he’s emerged. You hear the creaks of the stairs, and you turn to look at him.

“Hi, baby.” He says, holding two mugs. “Coffee?”

“Please, thank you. You don’t mind I’m using your space?” You take the mug from him and take a careful sip.

“What’s mine is yours, you know that.” He yawns as he goes over to sit on the loveseat.

“Are you attached to all the furniture in this house?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I couldn’t help myself, I was looking on the Bernie and Phil’s site, and saw these nice couches and loveseat sets. They all recline and there’s USB ports to charge your phones and stuff. Might be fun to go looking one of these days.”

“Sure, we could do that. The couch in the basement is really old, so I could put the furniture from the living room down there. I’d like to keep that couch because it’s a pull out.”

“That’s an excellent idea. It’ll be like upcycling in a way.”

“I’m planning to do some painting over our spring break. Andy’s been nagging me about the rooms being too dark or something.”

“Because they are. I was talking with him about it last month, and we both think a light grey for the living room would be perfect.”

“Are you suddenly telling me I have no taste?”

“No! You have taste…it’s just surprisingly manly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He chuckles as he sips his coffee.

“It’s just an oddly masculine home for such a…metro guy.”

“Metro guys are well sculpted and care too much about their appearances.”

“Harry, if even one of your nails is chipped you sit down and redo all of them, and you’re always so put together with what you wear. All I’m saying is, you would think a macho guy was living here, not that it bothers me.”

“I guess I just didn’t really put a ton of thought into the interior.” He shrugs. “I focused more on getting the outside of the home to look nice, and there were some structural things I had to take care of too.”

“Alright, so we’ll put up some fresh paint to liven the place up a bit, nothing too drastic. I think you’ll have fun looking at things with me. Just don’t say yes to every little thing I like, I don’t wanna takeover the house.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, darling.” He smiles and grabs one of his books to read. “Is it okay if I sit up here with you while you work?”

“I’d like that.”

You turn back to face the computer as he gets cozy with his book. You and Harry had become quite domestic, and you loved it. You loved being able to just be around someone in a comfortable silence. He told you once that the sound of you typing was pretty calming to him and he could concentrate on his book or whatever else he was doing just fine.

“It’s been an hour, you need to take a break.” He says to you.

“Harry.” You hum warningly.

“Your wrists will thank me later, come on, let’s have a proper breakfast.”

“I don’t wanna eat a lot since we’re eating out tonight.” You say, still typing away.

“Hit save, now.” You look at him and laugh before continuing to type.

“Was that supposed to be threatening?”

“Yes.”

“Mm, and how’d that work out for you?” He sighs as grips the back of the chair to wheel you away. “Hey!”

He reaches forward on the mouse and clicks save before looking at you.

“How’d that work out for you?” He smirks. “Come on we can have some eggs and toast or something.”

“Okay.”

You and Harry work together to make breakfast.

“What time are we going out tonight?”

“I thought we could be there for seven.” You shrug. “You’re still good with going to the Thai place?”

“Definitely, you know I’ll never say no to going there.”

Harry still had no idea everyone from the department would be joining, which made you very happy. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise party, but you thought it would be fun to get everyone together. A special version of game night.

“Great.” You smile. “Are you going to do any work today?”

“Nah, I have a bit of time before I need to work on my next manuscript, so I’m giving myself a break. I think in March I’ll start up on it. I’m even caught up on my grading.” He leans back in his chair and looks around. “I wouldn’t mind doing some work to the kitchen. I’d like to get some new cabinets.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like, how do you think white cabinets would look with a colored backsplash? I like the granite that has, like, grey and mint in it, you know what I mean?” You nod. “Course that means I’d have to re-stain the floors in here. Can’t have dark floors with such a light kitchen.”

“What you’re talking about is very modern, which could look nice in a ranch.” You pucker your lips to think on it. “I personally love a white kitchen, it just takes more work to keep it clean.”

“I just think it could look really sleek, you know?”

“I agree.”

“It’s nice having someone to bounce ideas around with. I feel like I didn’t do much before because I couldn’t decide on my own.” He sounds a little somber, and then he clears his throat. “Well, if you’re gonna be working I might go to the gym for a bit. Would you mind?”

“No, babe, go right ahead.” You smile.

“Cool.” He gets up and clears the plates from the table before going to his room to change.

Harry liked having you in his home, and he liked that it was slowly becoming this shared space. He wished you’d just move in altogether, but he respected why you wanted to wait. He left things open so that if you decided to move in earlier than July then that would be perfectly fine, and you knew it. He was just grateful you didn’t want to find a different house because he quite liked this one. Just as you’re cleaning up the dishes he comes out in his workout clothes.

“I’ll see you later.” He says, kissing your cheek.

“Bye, babe.” You watch him leave, and then you had back upstairs to get some more work done.

Harry was dressed and right to go by quarter of seven. He was wearing this pair of pink dress pants, which looked exceptional on him particularly in the area of his ass, and white button up. You were still getting ready, wanting to look your best for him.

“Okay, I’m ready.” You smile as you step into the living room where he was puttering about. You were in a short green dress. He looks you up and down.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell if those are real stockings or if you’ve got that garter on again.”

“I guess you’ll find out when we get back.” You wink at him and grab the keys and your coat.

“You look lovely, baby.”

“Thanks, you don’t look too shabby yourself.”

“Are you sure we need to go anywhere?” He puts his hands on your hips and gives you a squeeze.

“So eager.”

“You didn’t let me touch you all day!” He whines.

“I was busy!” You laugh. “You can have me all you want later, let’s go.”

You drive Harry to the restaurant and pull into a parking space. You hold his hand as you walk in, and tell the hostess you’re ‘the last of the Styles party’. Harry gives you a confused look as the hostess leads you to the back of the restaurant where the private dining area was.

“Hey, there he is!” Andre says, and Harry’s face grows into the brightest smile.

“Hey!” He says.

There was Janette, Andre, Mateo, Sandra, Lisa, and Lucas. The whole gang made it just for Harry.

“Thought it would be fun to have dinner with everyone, what do you think?” You ask him as you shrug your coat off.

“Think you’re brilliant as usual.”

You all sit down at the large round table provided. Drinks were ordered all around as were many appetizers and dishes to share. You wished there was a bar to go dancing at in the area, but then again your colleagues don’t need to know you like that. If the mood felt right you could always go to the bar you and Janette usually go to.

Harry keeps his hand on your thigh most of the night. He was having a great time, which made you happy. It was always a good time with this group. Without fail someone would make you laugh so hard you’d cry. Harry’s hand was distracting, though, you could tell he was almost searching for something. He really wanted to know if you were wearing standard tights or not. You were, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t wearing something cute underneath. You assume he’s figured it out when he feels your thigh enough to not feel any bare skin.

“Any special plans with Andy for your birthday, H?” Sandra asks.

“We’ll do cake Monday night most likely. He’s got a basketball game, so that’ll be fun.”

“How’s his little girlfriend doing?” Janette asks.

“She’s good, took ‘em ice skating last weekend. You should have seen it, they were pretty cute.”

“I can’t believe kids so young are dating.” Mateo says.

“It’s not real dating.” Harry says. “If it lasts longer than a couple of months I’ll be shocked. Kids like to act so grown up, you know?”

“It’s true, my daughter had a ‘boyfriend’ in seventh grade for, like, a week. I flipped out over nothing.” She laughs. “Eighth grade is when it gets serious, though, just a heads up.”

“That’s when they’re really teenagers.” Lisa says. “Will Andy be fourteen when he goes into eighth?”

“Yup.” Harry nods. “I’m dreading the true teen years. He’s already starting to get snippy about things, I’m trying just to live in the moment and enjoy him while he’s still sweet.”

“Does he ever get snippy with you, Y/N?” Andre asks.

“Her?!” Harry says before you have a chance to answer. “These two are in cahoots. He always listens to her.”

“That’s only because he sees me more as a friend. I don’t think he really sees me as a symbol of authority…” You say. “I’m sure if I really told him what to do he’d give me some bull about not being his mom or something.” You sip your drink.

“Think he’d only do that if he was really having an episode, don’t worry.” Harry gives your thigh a squeeze.

“And he does get snippy with me, but I try to bring things down to his level, and we usually come to some sort of compromise. He’s easy enough to read.”

“Just wait until he’s a hormonal teenager.” Sandra says. “He’ll be less easy to figure out.” She laughs.

“My kids are at that stage where they’re telling me things they used to get away with.” Lisa chimes in with a chuckle. “It’s best to do it over wine, but it’s pretty funny.”

Lisa tells a few funny stories about her kids to the table, and his has everyone roaring. Overall it was a good night. You had some cupcakes made, and everyone sings happy birthday to Harry. He blows out the candles and kisses your cheek before taking a cupcake. You both thank everyone for coming, and he can’t stop looking at you in the car on the ride home.

“Why are you staring, hm?” You side eye him.

“I just think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and I feel really lucky that by some chance our paths crossed.”

“Oh.” You swallow. “I wasn’t expecting such an articulate answer.” He hums his response and takes one of your hands in his and kisses your knuckles.

“Thank you for putting all that together, it was nice to be out with friends tonight.”

“My pleasure, baby.”

“So…what do you have planned for when we get back?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, well, sometimes you like to get freaky with me.” He smirks.

“I keep all my freaky shit at home, you know that. The last thing Andy needs to find is a pair of handcuffs or my special candle.”

“Special candle?”

“You haven’t her yet.” You grin. “I was thinking Valentine’s Day could be at my place for that reason.”

“What, what makes it special?”

“It’s for dripping wax on people. It feels really good, you have no idea. Well, you will, I mean, if you want to.”

“What are you gonna do when you move in?”

“I’ll have to fucking lock the drawer, won’t I?” You both laugh at that. “I don’t really have anything special planned for tonight, just though you could do whatever you felt like.”

“You realize that means I’ll just be taking my time then.”

“Yes, and I’m willing to suffer to please you.” You pull into the garage and lean towards him so your lips ghost over his. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

You pull away before he can kiss you, and you giggle as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He chases you into the house, and into his bedroom before he catches you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and picking you up.

“Don’t make fun of me for saying that, it was in the heat of the moment.”

“Mm, a very heated moment.” You smile up at him. “I’m not making fun, I liked it.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat and lets you go. “Alright then.”

“Unzip me?”

His fingers skim the zipper and drag it down your back. You had a black lace bra on with your tights. The dress drops to the floor and he squints at your ass. You look over your shoulder and smirk.

“What?”

“These are really opaque, can’t even see what panties you got on.”

“Oh, well, that’s because I’m not wearing any.” You wiggle your bum at him. “Consider it one of your gifts to unwrap.”

“You need to stop spoiling me.” He says as he unclasps your bra.

“You deserve to be spoiled, Harry.”

He tugs you to his chest and kisses on your shoulder, your neck, and then your other shoulder. He sinks his teeth into your right shoulder and your head rolls back. One of his hands drifts up to your left breast, and his other hand cups your center.

“H-Harry.” You breathe. “Just take them off.”

He hums as he sponges kisses up your neck and he now uses both of his hands to grope and knead your breasts.

“Get on the bed for me.”

“Back or stomach?”

“Your back, please?”

You nod and get on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him get undressed. Once he was only left in his boxers, he joins you. He hooks his fingers into your tights, and drags them down your legs. You lift your hips up to help him, and he tosses them somewhere once they’re all the way off. He leans forward to kiss your lips, three quick smooches, and then he opens your legs. He licks his lips and gets comfortable on his stomach in front of you, then he licks a flat stripe up your center to your clit. He does this a few times.

“M’surprised you didn’t want me on my knees for you.” You say with a shaky breath.

“Monday’s my actual birthday, save that thought for then, would you?”

You giggle and nod as he continues to lick and suck at your folds.

“Consider it filed away, sir.” You salute him and he smirks at you.

“I love you so fucking much.” He chuckles against you.

“I love you-ah!”

Harry fucks into you with his tongue while his thumb rubs at your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and you tug harshly. He groans into you as he continues to lick and suck on your center. Before you know it, you’re being flipped over. Harry pulls your ass back by the hips, so you know to prop yourself up on your elbows and knees. Two of his fingers slide into you from behind while his mouth goes right for your other hole.

“Harry.” You moan out, egging him on more.

He pumps in and out of you, the tips of his fingers brushing your g-spot. You had to be dripping for him, you could feel it on your inner thighs. His teeth nip at one of your cheeks, and he feels you squeeze around his fingers.

“Getting close, baby?” He smirks.

“Y-Yeah, please don’t stop.” You pant.

His other hand comes around to rub your clit, and the combination of things working you had you tipping you over the edge. You clutch at the blankets on the bed while you cry out for him. He kisses on your back while he slowly retracts his fingers.

“Shit.” You breathe as you get up to grab a condom. “Get on your back.”

Harry grins and does as you say. You rip the foil packet open and roll it down his length before swinging your leg over him. You line yourself up and sink down, making you both moan. His hands run up your stomach to your breasts, and he kneads them while you adjust to his size. You start moving your hips around, not exactly in circles, but around. In that song WAP, Megan Thee Stallion says she spells her name while she rides it, and you had heard the song for the first time in a while the other day while working, so it gave you the idea to try it for yourself. Harry could see the concentration on your face.

“What are you doing?” He chuckles. “Feels good, but what are-“

“I’m, oh fuck, I’m spelling my name.”

“You know I do the same thing when I eat you out…”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it helps me concentrate.”

“Well, aren’t we just two peas in a pod.” You chuckle and run your hands up and down his chest. You plant them flat on his pecs and take a breath.

You raise yourself almost completely off of him before slamming back down. He grunts and grips your hips, but he knows to just let you continue on your own. You keep doing this to build a rhythm until you’re essentially bouncing up and down on him.

“Can I move?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, baby, move with me.”

He yanks you down to him so you’re chest to chest, and then his hands slide to your ass to get a really good grip while his essentially moves you on and off his hard cock. You sponge kisses on his neck and collar bone while you move along with him. Your clit was rubbing against him in the perfect way, not to mention the angle of his dick inside you was perfectly hitting your g-spot. You were moaning right into his ear, and it was driving him nuts. He loved knowing how good he could make you feel.

“Y/N.” He groans. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Soo good, Harry, so fucking good.” Your nails claw at his shoulders. “You’re the, oh my god, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Harry spills into the condom, but tries to keep you moving so you can get yours. You really caught him by surprise.

You squeeze around him and come undone, moaning out, and moving your lips over his. He sucks your bottom lip and it makes your eyes roll back. He slowly lifts you off his now sensitive prick. He discards the condom and lays next to you with a big smile on his face.

“What?” You coo as you push his hair back off his forehead.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“You’re the best I’ve ever had too.” He rubs your side up and down soothingly.

“You’re just saying that because I said it.” You mutter.

“No, Y/N, I really mean it. I’ve never wanted someone all the time like this. I mean, usually I’m pretty physically affectionate in my relationships, but…” He moves some of the matted hair away from your face. “I can’t explain it, I feel like we really have this connection, you know?”

“Yeah, like we just…fit.”

“Exactly.” He sighs and leans in to peck your lips.

Once you both get cleaned up and settled into bed, you work up the courage to ask Harry something that’s been on your mind.

“Baby?” You say.

“Mm?” He was wrapped around you already, face nestled into your hair.

“Do you think once spring rolls around, we could do another weekend in Boston? My friends are dying to meet you.”

“Oh, you mean Janette isn’t your only friend?” He teases and he scoff at him. “I’d love to do that. Suppose that’s one of the perks of Andy going to his mum’s every other weekend. We can just plan it for one of those.”

“I’d like to take him into town some time. We could take the bus down for the day and take him to the aquarium or something.”

“He’d love that, honestly. Oh! We could bring Brandon along, really make a day of it. I feel like they haven’t been hanging out as much because of Caroline…he needs to know that there’s a balance with friends and significant others.”

“Maybe he’s clingy just like his daddy.” You chuckle, and Harry pinches your hip.

“You know the more you say that the more I’m gonna start thinking you wanna call me that for real.”

“I don’t, I just think it’s funny to joke about. My best friend Nora and I joke about daddy all the time.”

“Oh really?” Harry chuckles into your hair.

“Mhm, we came up with a list of celebrities and made this fake awards show called the daddy awards when we were younger. We were texting at like one in the morning, and I was trying so hard not to laugh because I didn’t wanna wake up my roommate.”

“Tell me more about your friends, I wanna know everything.”

“Right now?”

“Mhm, I’m all ears.”

“Okay, well, there’s Nora, Mark, Claudia, and Darcy…”

You decide to stay back at the house when Harry goes to pick up Andy from Paige’s. You didn’t know if he’d need to go inside to do presents with Rachel and Noah, and you weren’t really in the mood to see Lydia again since you told her off.

“Happy birthday, Uncle Harry!” Rachel beams at him as he enters the home.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She hands him a card.

“Rach, give him a second to come through the door.” Noah chuckles. “Happy birthday.” He shakes Harry’s hand.

“Thanks, mate.”

Andy comes down the stairs with all of his things, and Paige comes out with some other gifts.

“I’ll just put those in the car, and open them tomorrow if that’s alright…” Harry says.

“Of course. It’s mostly some new sk-“

“Mum, no!” Rachel yells. “It needs to be a surprise.” She pouts.

“Okay, okay.” Paige chuckles.

Lydia comes into the living room with her arms crossed.

“Bye everyone.” Andy says as he goes through the rounds of hugs. “Love you, Gram.”

“I love you too, precious.” She kisses his forehead and smiles. “So, where’s your girlfriend, Harry?”

“She stayed back to get dinner started.” He says as he grabs the gifts from Paige. “I’ll tell her you asked for her, though, Lydia, that’s so nice of you.” Harry smiles at her, and then looks at Andy. “Ready?”

“Mhm.”

They both head out and get in the car quickly. Harry rolls his eyes to himself, and then takes a deep breath before driving off.

“How was your weekend?” He asks Andy.

“Good.” He shrugs. “Gram took me out for lunch yesterday.”

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re getting to spend so much time with her.”

“You are?”

“Yeah…I mean, just because she and I don’t exactly get along doesn’t mean that I don’t want you spending time with her. I think it’s important to do things with your grandparents if you’re able.”

“She took me and Rachel with her. We went to Friendly’s, it was actually pretty fun.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“How was your weekend?”

“Really good, Y/N got the department to take me out to dinner last night. It was nice hanging out with friends.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I sort of have a…problem…”

“With what?”

“Um, well, I guess there’s a Valentine’s Day dance in a couple of weeks and I don’t know what to do.”

“They have dances for you so young?”

“I guess it’s a sixth through eighth grade thing. Last year they just had that craft party for us, remember?”

“Oh yeah, I came in to help for that I think. So what’s your problem?”

“I have nothing to wear! I don’t wanna wear my suit, it’s too formal.”

“Okay, so I’ll take you shopping.” Harry shrugs. “Are you gonna ask Caroline to be your valentine and all that?”

“Do I have to? She’s already my girlfriend.”

“You definitely need to because she’s your girlfriend. You need to ask her to the dance too.”

“I wanna go with my friends too…”

“You can! Tell you what, invite everyone over to take pictures at our place.”

“Really?”

“Sure, I used to love doing that with my friends.”

“What if I’m the only one with an actual date, won’t that be weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird. It should be fine.”

“When can we go shopping?”

“Let’s go next weekend, dance isn’t for two weeks right?”

“Yeah, it’s on a Friday. I told Mum already…Brandon said he might have a sleepover that night.”

“That sounds like a great weekend then.”

Harry gets Andy home to you, and they both take a big whiff of what you’re making.

“Whatever you’re cooking smells really good, Y/N.” Andy says.

“Thanks! I made butternut squash soup.” You smile. “It’s so col out today, and I figured it would be good leftovers for later in the week too.”

“I see my cook once eat twice policy is starting to rub off on you.” Harry kisses your cheek. “Only took you eight months, but I’ll let it slide.”

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes. “Go wash up.”

The three of you eat dinner, and Andy tells you about how he’ll need to go shopping for the dance. He goes to his room after dinner to work on a card for Caroline.

The next morning, you grin when you hear Harry’s alarm go off. Usually he would get up to do yoga in the loft so you could sleep, but this morning you immediately roll over on top of him. He chuckles slightly as you start kissing on him.

“What are you doing?” He whispers.

“Happy birthday.” You whisper back.

You stay under the covers as you work your way down his body. You may not like Harry’s head between your legs first thing in the morning, but he had absolutely no problem with it. He moves the blanket so he could see your head. He knew you’d be too cold if he took it away completely.

You lick over his tip and around his shaft before sinking down on him. He expects you to move, but when he looks down at you, you’re looking up at him, waiting.

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm.”

“God, I love you.”

He gently grips your jaw in both of his hands and starts fucking your mouth. He grunts and groans, especially when you choke around him in the beginning. You widen your throat as much as you can as you relax around him. It wasn’t something you did often, but you knew he’d really appreciate it this morning. Your nails dig into his thighs, and your eyes flutter closed as you concentrate on breathing through your nose.

“Fuck, baby.” He moans. “So good, so fucking good.”

You knew he was trying to be quiet in case Andy happened to get up early and was roaming around the house. You would typically keep morning sex in the bathroom if Andy was home just out of respect. But it was Harry’s birthday, after all.

“I’m close, Y/N, just hold on.” He pants, and you appreciate his courtesy. He knew your jaw had to be getting tired, and your throat had to be getting sore. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” He grits his teeth and bites into his bottom lip harshly to keep quiet as he shoots his load down your throat.

Your eyes are watery, and you’re about ready to start gagging, but he lifts your mouth off him, and you can breathe properly again. You swallow everything and smile at him.

“What a way to wake up, I feel dizzy.” He chuckles and brings you down to him, holding you close. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” It comes out raspy, and for once he doesn’t tease you. You nuzzle into his neck and kiss on him for a bit before letting him get up.

“Do you wanna do some yoga with me?”

“No, I think I’ll take my shower while you do that.”

“Alright, love.” He kisses you and you both get up to start your day.

You get Andy up and get breakfast going while Harry gets in the shower. You even get the pasta boiled and set in the glass pan with the sauce for tonight’s baked ziti.

“Happy birthday, Dad!” Andy exclaims.

“Thanks, buddy.” Harry looks around the kitchen in awe. “You…got everything together already?”

“Yeah.” You shrug and hand him a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.

“Thank you.” He gives you a soft smile. “And thanks for getting this one up.” He nods towards Andy.

“She’s nice than you, she doesn’t take my blanket away.” Andy sticks his tongue out at Harry, and Harry sticks his tongue back at him.

“Alright, boys.” You say and sit down. “I would prefer to not gag while eating my oatmeal, thank you.”

“He started it.” Andy says.

“Well, I’m finishing it, how’s that grab ya?” You say, and Harry bursts out laughing. You look behind you to see him wheezing.

“I’m sorry, it was the accent that sent me!” He can barely catch his breath, and it makes Andy laugh too.

“Kay, bruv.” You say and stand up. “I’m going to work.”

“No, come on, don’t be like that. We can carpool.” He says, wiping his eyes.

“What does that even mean? ‘How’s that grab ya’?” Andy says.

“I don’t know, it’s just something my dad used to say to shut us up.” You shrug. “Seriously, can we get going?”

“Yeah.” Harry says. “You ready?” He says to Andy.

“Mhm.”

Harry drives everyone, and Andy hops out of the car to head into school.

“Okay, now that he’s gone, can you not do that again?”

“Do what?”

“Laugh at me when I’m being authoritative. How’s he supposed to take me seriously if you don’t?”

“You have to admit the way you said and phrased that was funny? And it’s not like he and I were having a legitimate argument. We were just palling around, you know?”

“Well, either way, can you not do that again? I felt a little…disrespected, Harry.”

“Oh.” He moves his hand to your thigh to give you a squeeze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I’m still getting used to all this, babe.”

“What?”

“Raising him with someone that’s right there. I mean, you helped with so much this morning, and it was such a relief. I hope you know how much I appreciate you.”

“You really see me as helping to raise him?”

“Well…yeah…I wouldn’t let just anyone tell him what to do. I trust your judgement with him, especially after how amazing you did alone with him for so long.”

“Oh…okay then.” You your hand over his and give it a little rub. “I mean, I know I’m not his mom or anything, but-“

“But at some point I’d like you to be his step-mom, so you’re valid here. I’ll try not to lose it like that again, okay?”

“Okay.” Your cheeks were red now. “Um, I suppose my tone was a little funny.”

“Just a little.” He smirks and takes your hand to kiss it. “I love how much you care about Andy, and I know it’s probably hard to tell your place in all of it sometimes.”

“Yeah, sometimes. It’s only been eight months between us, and I haven’t been a parent for almost twelve years like you have. I feel underqualified, if that makes sense.”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “You’re more than qualified, more so than anyone else I’ve tried to bring into his life, trust me.” He parks his car in the faculty lot and looks at you. “If I didn’t think you could handle him, the whole situation, I wouldn’t have dragged you into it, Y/N, no matter how much I liked you.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Drag me along all you want.” You lean in enough that your noses touch and you peck his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”

“Me neither.”

Andy was waiting by his locker for Caroline. She would usually meet up with him at his so they could walk to homeroom together. He smiles when he sees her walking towards him.

“Morning, Andy.” She says, hugging him.

“Morning.” He smiles. “I, uh, have something for you…” He reaches into his backpack for the card he made her.

“You do?”

“Mhm, here.” It was pink and red and had glitter on it. Her eyes widen as she opens it. “I know it’s early to ask, but I just wanted to make sure you knew I wanted to go to the dance with you and all that.”

“Oh, Andy.” She smiles. “Of course I’ll be your valentine, and I’d love to go to the dance with you!” She throws her arms around him again and kisses his cheek. “This is so sweet, thank you.”

“Um, great! My dad said everyone could come to our house for pictures and stuff.”

“Do you think Tyler and Brandon will have dates?” She asks as they head to homeroom.

“I have no…oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“Brandon’s talking with Molly at her locker.” He rolls his eyes. “Look at them! Jesus.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“They were boyfriend and girlfriend at the beginning of the school year, but it didn’t work out. I hope he’s not getting back together with.”

“Why?”

“She was annoying, Caroline, you have no idea.”

They both sit in their seats. Andy lets Tyler know about the dance plans before Brandon sits down.

“Hey.” Brandon says with a smirk on his face. “Guess who has a date to the dance?”

“You are back with Molly.” Andy says with furrowed brows.

“Yeah, I’m giving it another go with her.” He shrugs. “Can’t really remember why we broke up in the first place.” It was a blatant lie, but Brandon wasn’t going to get into it with Andy right now.

“Good for you.” Andy mumbles. “My dad said everyone can come over for pictures before the dance…so I guess she can come too.”

“Thanks.” He smiles. “Still wanna sleep over after?”

“Yeah.”

“Tyler, you know Molly’s friend Alexis, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You could go with her if you want since Andy’s going with Caroline.”

“Sure! Sounds good to me.” Tyler shrugs.

Andy side eyes Brandon.

“What? You are going with your girlfriend to the dance, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I asked her this morning. Don’t you think it’ll be awkward for Alexis to come to my house?”

“Please, all of that’s in the past. It’ll be fine, Andy, chill out.”

“You chill out.”

“I’m plenty chill. Cooler than a cucumber, actually.” Brandon sits back in his seat and crosses his arms behind his head.

“Good for you.” Andy mumbles and faces forward. Caroline turns around slightly to smile at him and he smiles back.

Harry’s birthday was good all around. He enjoyed all of the gifts he got from his family and friends. You got him a gift certificate to his favorite nail salon so he could get a spa manicure and pedicure at some point, and Andy got him a new face mask kit. He was extremely grateful. He loved having you there to sing happy birthday with Andy. He didn’t need to make much of a wish when he blew out his candles, he was already getting exactly what he wanted.

“No, Dad, that’s so ugly!” Andy was nearly in tears while he and Harry were shopping. You had gone home to get some work done, so you couldn’t be there, but Harry wished you were, he was beside himself.

“Since when do you not agree with my taste in clothes?!” Harry really didn’t want to be arguing with his son at a fucking Old Navy on a Saturday afternoon, but there they were. “You said you didn’t want to go to Macy’s because their clothes are too fancy, so you need to find something here.”

“Just let me go around the store myself!”

“Fine! Come get me when you’re ready to try things on.”

“I don’t need you for that either!”

“Yes you do! You’ll need a second opinion, and I have to do that thing where you tug at the pants to make sure you have room to grow in them.”

“No, I hate that.” He whines. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Every parent does it! I’m gonna go sit outside the dressing rooms. Go find some clothes.” Harry huffs and storms away from his son. He sits down rubs at his temples.

Harry: really wish you were shopping with us

You: why? What’s wrong?

Harry: he’s being a little brat! Suddenly the clothes I think would like nice on him are ugly

You: well of course they are, don’t you know how this works?

Harry: apparently not!

You: just let him pick out his clothes on his own

Harry: I am…

You: okay so it’ll sort itself out…I can try to come over later, maybe he can do a fashion show for me

Harry: no it’s okay, I know you have work to do

You: maybe tomorrow then…just try to get through it, you’ll laugh about it someday

Harry: someday can’t come soon enough

“See, these are the dress shirts I like.” Andy says as he comes up to Harry. “And no one wears nice slacks to school dances, they wear khakis…it’s just a valentine’s dance.”

“Go try it on, now.” Andy rolls his eyes and goes into the changing room. “And you better come out to show me or I’m not buying you a single thing.”

“Okay!” Andy slams the door shut and takes a deep breath.

He comes out to show Harry himself in a pair of khakis and a nice blue button up with the sleeves rolled up.

“Do you need a tie or anything?” Harry asks as he tugs on various parts of the clothes to make sure they fit properly. “How do these pants fit, can you move alright? Gotta make sure you can dance comfortably.” He tugs at the waist and Andy swats his hand away.

“Stop! They fit fine, Dad. Does someone do that to you when you try on clothes?!”

“I do it for myself, actually. I’m also done growing, as opposed to you. These could easily not fit in a month with the way you’re growing.”

“Well, they fit now, so-“

“You know what? Let’s get Mum’s opinion on this, come on.”

“What are you doing?!” Harry pushes Andy into the dressing room with him.

“I’m not gonna make a scene in front of some strangers, hold on.” He swipes his phone to FaceTime Paige, and has a growing smirk on his face.

“Dad, please!”

“Hold on, she should have a say in this.”

“Harry, why in the hell are you FaceTiming me?” She chuckles.

“Because our son is having a fashion dilemma, hold on.” He flips the camera on a very aggravated Andy. “What do you think of this for the valentine’s dance?”

“Oh! You look so handsome, honey! Do you need a tie?”

“No!” He pouts and crosses his arms.

“Turn around so I can see the back of the pants. Harry, did you tug on them?”

“I did. Go on, turn around so Mum can see the whole thing.”

Andy groans, but does as he’s told.

“Well, I think it would be great for the dance. I like the sleeves pushed up like that too, very cute.”

“Okay, we all agree on the outfit, can I have some privacy to change now?”

“Sure.” Harry says and leaves the dressing room. “Thanks, he’s driving me bananas.”

“Well, anytime you wanna embarrass him, I’m more than happy to help.” She laughs. “I’m good to come by Friday during the picture taking?”

“Of course. It’s his first real dance, after all.”

“You know,” Andy says, coming out of the dressing room. “you look like a real boomer walking around FaceTiming in public without any headphones in.” He smirks. “It’s rude.”

“He’s right, Har.”

“Shit, wouldn’t wanna look like a boomer now would I? Better go, Mum.”

“Talk to you later, Dad.”

Harry shoves his phone in his pocket and takes the clothes Andy wants up to the register.

“You have shoes, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, anything else you need?”

“No, I wanna go home now.”

“Andy…”

“That’ll be $45.20.” The young cashier says.

“You know what, I have a coupon on my phone, one second.” Harry gets his phone out again and shows the girl so she can scan it.

“Alright, your new total is $33.40.” She smiles.

“Excellent!” Harry inserts his card into the chip reader.

“It’s so nice of you to take your little brother shopping.”

“Oh, um, he’s not my…this is my son.”

“No way, you don’t look old enough to be a dad.” She flirts.

“That’s, uh, very nice of you to say.” Harry clears his throat and takes his card back. “You can just throw the receipt in the bag.”

“Sure thing.” She hands him the bag. “Have a nice day.”

“Dad, no offense, but you look way too old to be my older brother.” Andy laughs. “That girl must’ve been desperate for your number.”

“That girl was way too young to be flirting with me.” He shakes his head.

“Dad, I’m sorry if I was acting bratty in the store. I don’t know why I get like this…”

“You’re hormonal, and you’re at an age where everything I do is embarrassing.” Harry turns around to look at Andy. “It’s okay, we’re okay.” He smiles. “You’re gonna look really handsome in your new clothes.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Mum, please!” Andy swats her hands away because she wouldn’t stop pinching his cheeks.

“I can’t help it, you just look so handsome! My little baby, going to his first dance.”

“Better to let her act like this now before all your friends get here.” Harry says.

“Remind me again, what time am I picking you up from Brandon’s tomorrow?” Paige asks.

“Um, like ten probably.” He shrugs.

“Okay, Andy stand with Mum so I can take your picture.”

Andy rolls his eyes, but he poses with Paige nonetheless.

“I can take one of the three of you if you like.” You say.

“Oh, that’d be great, Y/N!” Paige says. “I’m so sad Noah couldn’t be here. Rachel’s school does a father-daughter dance for Valentine’s Day. She looked so precious in her dress.”

The three of them pose together.

“Can I have one with you two?” Andy says to you and Harry.

“Here, I’ll take it.” Paige takes your phone and snaps the photo. “Andy take one of just you and Dad and then one of you and Y/N.”

The doorbell rings, and Andy feels a flood of relief when he sees that it’s Brandon.

“Thank god, my parents are being super embarrassing.” Andy says to him.

“Mine are too. I had to take a picture with my mom.” Brandon groans.

“Me too!” Andy takes a step back to look at Brandon. “You, uh, you look nice.”

“Thanks, so do you.” They were both blushing, but the doorbell rings again, so it pulls their attention from each other.

It was Caroline, and Andy’s heart stopped. Her hair was half up, and it looked pretty with waves. She was wearing a simple blue dress. She and Andy hadn’t even talked about coordinating, they just did by accident.

“Great minds think alike, huh.” She blushes as she walks up to him.

“You…you look so pretty, Caroline.”

“Thank you.”

Brandon’s eyes were about ready to roll out of his head. Eventually Tyler, Alexis, and Molly all show up. All of the parents gather around to take a ton of pictures of everyone. Andy and Tyler get a photo just the two of them, as do all of the respective dates.

Paige takes Andy, Caroline, and Tyler in her car, and the others go with Brandon’s dad.

“They all looked so cute.” You say with a sigh.

“I know.” Harry pulls you down onto the couch with him. “I just hope they all have a good time.”

The dance was…awkward to say the least. Each grade pretty much took a section of the cafeteria and stood around. No one was dancing to the music, and anyone that started to just looked awkward. There were teachers everywhere chaperoning.

“I thought dances were supposed to have punch bowls and snacks. All they have over there are bottles of water that you need money for.” Tyler says. “Did anyone’s parents give them any money?” Everyone shakes their heads no.

“I don’t get why no one’s dancing…” Molly says as she looks over at the eighth graders. “Even the older kids are just standing around.”

“Maybe if they played better music.” Andy says.

“It’s the beginning of the night, they have to get all of the lame songs out of the way.” Caroline says. “It’ll get better.”

And it did. About an hour in the music picked up, and the lights got dimmer, so everything was less embarrassing. Everyone was having fun dancing in a group. Towards the end of the night, just like at any dance, Stairway to Heaven starts to play, and everyone pairs up.

Caroline puts her hands on Andy’s shoulders, and he hesitates at first.

“You can put your hands on my waist if you want.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods and does so gently. There was plenty of space between them as they swayed back and forth. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really glad Molly and Alexis came too. They invited me to their sleepover.”

“That’s great!” Andy glances over at Molly and Brandon and sees that they’re dancing much closer. “Um, do you wanna, like, put your head on my shoulder?”

“Okay.”

They dance closer like a lot of other people. Andy and Brandon make eye contact, and it’s a little intense. Andy watches as Molly kisses his cheek, and then…he sees Brandon kiss her quickly on the mouth.

“Jerk.” Andy scoffs.

“Huh?” Caroline looks up at him.

“Oh, nothing.” He smiles at her.

She keeps looking up at him, almost like she was waiting for something.

“You can kiss me, if you want to.” Andy leans in and kisses Caroline on the cheek and then smiles nervously at her. “That was nice.” She giggles. “But I was sort of hoping, um…”

“I just don’t wanna do it in such a public place, it’s not special.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “That’s actually really sweet.” She hugs him close as they keep dancing.

Once the song is over, everyone goes outside to wait for their parents. Andy gets into Harry’s car. You were sitting in the passenger seat.

“Well, how was it?” Harry asks.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” Harry questions him.

“Um, Andy, Dad and I started this puzzle tonight, it’s one-thousand pieces! It’s gonna be a tough one, but when we’re done it’s gonna be this really pretty lake scene.”

“You guys had the night off from me and all you did was work on a puzzle?”

“What would you have liked us to do instead?” You chuckle.

“Don’t knock a puzzle, it was actually really romantic. We listened to music, had some wine. It was a perfect Valentine’s Day.” You also got a couple of quickies in, but obviously Andy didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, well, good for you guys.”

It was clear Andy wasn’t up to talking about his evening, so you and Harry didn’t press him. Once you were all inside, Andy tugs you into his room with him when he sees Harry step into the bathroom.

“We don’t have much time.” He whispers as he gets his things together to bring to Brandon’s.

“For what?” You whisper back.

“To talk about the dance.”

“Okay…what happened?”

“Caroline said I could kiss her so I kissed her cheek, but she really wanted me to kiss her and I told her I didn’t want to in front of everyone and she told me that was really sweet.”

“Well, it was really sweet.”

“I wanted to kiss her, but I saw Brandon and Molly kiss, and I wanted hit him.”

“You wanted to hit Brandon?!”

“Shh!” He puts his finger up to his lips. “Yeah, he’s been such a jerk since he got back with Molly. We were looking at each other and he looked at me while he kissed her.”

“Is it just you sleeping over tonight?”

“No, Tyler’s gonna be there too.” Andy rolls his sleeping back up. “I-“ Andy’s eyes widen when he sees Harry in the doorway. You turn around to look at Harry.

“Um…everything alright in here?”

“Yeah, Dad, uh…Y/N was just helping me roll my sleeping bag. She’s gotten pretty good at it since you showed her how. Let’s go, bye, Y/N.”

Andy brushes by you and Harry.

“Is he alright?” Harry whispers.

“I can’t tell…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Let me take him alone to Brandon’s, maybe he’ll talk one on one.”

“Wait…let me take him. He was opening up to me.”

“Will you please let me know what’s going on afterwards?”

“Yes.” You rush out and grab the keys. “Andy, I’m gonna bring you to Brandon’s.”

“Okay.”

Once you’re both in the car, Andy speaks up again.

“Y/N I like Caroline a lot, but…” He starts tearing up. “I feel really guilty.”

“About what, honey?” You hadn’t really called him that before, but you felt like he needed it.

“Because…I think I wanna kiss Brandon.”

“Oh, Andy.”

“But I also wanna kiss Caroline! But I don’t know if I want her to be my first kiss, you know?”

You pull up to Brandon’s house and turn around to look at Andy.

“Promise me something, Andy.”

“What?”

“Don’t rush into anything. I know it feels like everyone’s doing things, but just because your friends are kissing doesn’t mean that you need to. Don’t let anyone pressure you. If Caroline really likes you, she’ll understand if you want to wait. Also, if you like someone else, you shouldn’t string her along.”

“But I really like her! I just…I like Brandon too.”

“Are you sure you want to go in there tonight? I can take you home if this is all too much.”

“No, I wanna go inside. I’ll be fine. I’m just freaking out for no reason.”

“Andy…”

“Thanks for driving me, see you soon.”

Andy gets out of the car and heads into Brandon’s house. You explain things best you can to Harry when you get back.

“This ski trip can’t come soon enough, he needs some time away from everyone.” Harry says. “Poor kid.”

“Andy, how come you didn’t kiss Caroline?” Tyler asks him as they were all hanging out in Brandon’s room.

“I did.”

“You only kissed her on the cheek.” Brandon says.

“Why was everyone watching?!” Andy groans. “I just think something like that should happen in private.” He shrugs. “I’m really tired, can we go to sleep now?”

It was nearly midnight. The other boys agree. Brandon gets settled into his bed, and the other boys get into their sleeping bags.

“Andy, you can come on the bed with me, there’s plenty of room.”

“But then Tyler would be left out, it’s fine.”

“But you always-“

“I’m more comfortable on the floor, B.”

“I’ll take the bed.” Tyler says and comes up onto the bed with Brandon.

There was tension in the air. Andy couldn’t wait for February break.

Andy made it through another week of school. Caroline hadn’t pressed him about kissing, which he was thankful for.

“So…you’re doing the big family trip thing again, huh?” Brandon asks on Friday at their lockers.

“Yup, but Y/N’s coming this time, so that’ll be fun. It’s gonna be her first time skiing since she was our age or something. My dad’s gonna take a lesson with her.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“Mhm.”

“When do you get back?”

“Next Friday…we’re going early tomorrow morning.”

“Maybe we can hang out when you get back.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You know you can call me or whatever if Rachel or Noah get on your nerves.”

“They’ve been on my nerves less lately, actually, but thanks.” This would normally be the part where they hug, but Caroline comes over to them.

“Andy, wanna walk me outside so we can say goodbye?”

“Yeah.” He smiles at her and takes her hand. “Have a good break, B.”

You were making Andy feel better already. You had put a mix of early 2000’s hits on, and you were singing really obnoxiously. Harry hated this kind of music, but you knew it would make Andy laugh, so Harry sucked it up for his sake.

“Okay, I’m gonna turn it down for a bit, we might scare the neighbors.” Harry says. “We’re just about there.”

The three of you get into the cabin, and Andy races to go claim his bunk before Rachel gets there. Harry shows you to which room would be yours.

“See, we even have our bathroom, babe. Total privacy.”

“Harry, once again, I’m not boning you while we’re under the same roof as-“

“Hello! We’re here!”

“Them.” You say.

“You say that now, but you’ll be wanting me after you see me on the slopes.” He pinches your butt before leaving the room to go greet everyone. “Hey, everyone!”

“Y/N, would you like to come grocery shopping with me?” Paige asks. “Gotta stock up on all the good stuff for the kids.”

“Oh, um, sure, I could tag along.”

“Great.” She smiles. “Better to get it all done now, and then we can just relax the rest of the day.” She kisses Noah’s cheek. “Be back soon!”

“Uncle Harry, I brought all new colors to paint our nails with this year. Wanna do it tonight?”

“Sure, I think that’s a great idea.” He smiles at her. “You better go see what bunk Andy left you with.”

“Oh shoot, you’re right!”

“So…how’s fifth grade treating her?” Harry asks Noah.

“Pretty good, actually. She loves her friends, although she’s closer with some of the kids at her Hebrew school. She can relate to them a little better.”

“Where are Mum and Y/N?” Andy asks as he comes out to the living room with Rachel.

“They went grocery shopping.” Harry says.

“Together?!” Andy was nervous you might fill his mother in on everything, but you wouldn’t do that.

“Yeah, they’re gonna get all your favorites.” Noah says.

That night Harry sits at the table with Rachel so they can do each other’s nails. You end up on the couch with Noah and Paige to watch some TV. Andy comes over, and almost automatically lays his head in your lap with a pillow, and you mindlessly start playing with his hair. He puts his feet up on Paige’s lap. It was a bit odd for Paige since Andy rarely let her play with his hair anymore, but the closeness was nice nonetheless.

“Are you excited to ski tomorrow?” Harry asks as you get ready for bed later.

“A little…I’m more nervous than anything.”

“No need to be nervous, baby. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And you’re okay wasting an entire day just to take a lesson and hang on the bunny trail with me?”

“It won’t be a waste! Noah’s gonna be at the bunny trail with Rachel too. Paige is gonna go on the longer runs with Andy. It’ll all work out great.” He gives you a smooch before wrapping himself around you.

“Have I told you enough times how cute you look in your gear?” Harry asks as you wait outside in the beginner skier area.

“Once or twice.” You giggle. “Thank you.”

“I hope you have fun, babe. If not, you can go to the pool the rest of the week and I won’t even complain.”

“Seems fair enough to me.”

“Good morning everyone!” A young man starts. “I’m Trevor, I’ll be your instructor this morning.”

Trevor goes over the basics, getting the skis on and off, walking around with one on at a time, turning with one on a time. You were working up quite the sweat. Eventually, Trevor takes everyone over to the bunny hill, and he explains how to step onto the belt so you don’t fall backwards.

“Great work today everybody, have fun!”

“Okay, are you ready to try going down?” Harry says to you. “I’ll be right beside you the whole way.”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

You start squatting as you push off, but Harry grabs you.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Go that low. Stand up straight, or you’ll go way too fast and you’ll have trouble stopping.”

“Maybe you should have given the lesson.”

“He’s just some college kid making a quick buck, he did his best.”

You take a deep breath and push off with Harry. He stays beside you and you’re glad you listened to him because you still whipped down the hill even while standing up straight.

“That was great! How do you feel?”

“Um…definitely won’t be going on the chairlift anytime soon.” You chuckle. “Perhaps I’ll be hanging with Rachel this week.”

“No worries. You’ll get the hang of it. I’m really proud of you for trying. Ready to give it another go?”

“Yeah, let’s go again.”

Your legs were extremely sore by the end of the day. Paige and Noah volunteered to cook while you sat in front of the fire with Harry. The kids were playing a board game, and Harry was rubbing your shins. You didn’t even have to ask.

“Dad, can we go to the pool after dinner?”

“Sure, we could go for a bit.” Harry nods. “Feel like swimming?” He asks you.

“No, I’ll stay here and read I think. I’m a little tired. Maybe tomorrow though.”

“I’ll go with you, H. Wouldn’t mind some time in that hot tub.” Noah says.

So then after dinner, it was just you and Paige hanging out. You wanted to go to your room and just veg out alone, but you also didn’t want to be rude.

“I’m really glad you were able to come this year.” Paige says to you. “It’s really nice seeing you and Harry together.”

“Oh, um, thanks. I was happy to be invited. My classes are doing some online work this week. I bet a lot of them went out skiing to the mountains closer by.”

“So, was today your first day of skiing ever?”

“I tried it when I was younger, but haven’t since. It was fun, but I’m definitely tired. Did you have a nice day with Andy?”

“I did! It was nice for us to go on the lifts together and just be together. We had a nice lunch together too.”

“That’s great.” You say with a yawn. “Excuse me.” You chuckle. “I think I might turn in early.”

“No worries, go ahead.” She smiles.

“Goodnight.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You get into a large tee shirt and settle into bed with a book. When Harry gets back from the pool he sees you passed out with the lights on and your book on your chest. He takes a quick shower to rinse off and then he gets into bed with you. You turn over so he can hold you, and he snuggles right in.

“Love you, baby.” You say in a sleepy voice.

“Love you too.” He kisses your head and you sigh.

The next morning you hear rustling and sit up to see Harry doing some yoga. You giggle at him and he turns to see you.

“Make fun all you want, but it really gets me ready for the day.”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

You get out of bed and throw on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt, both Harry’s after doing your thing in the bathroom. You both go out to the kitchen and get some coffee started for everyone. He wraps his arms around you from behind as you both look outside at the fresh snow.

“This is the life, isn’t it?” He says as he kisses your cheek.

“Can’t complain too much.”

“You were so cute last night when I got back. You had completely passed out.”

“I was tired! My legs were killing me.”

“How do they feel now?”

“Fine, I should be able to get back on the bunny hill. Don’t feel like you need to babysit me or anything.”

“I’ll spend the morning with you just to make sure you’re good to go, and then I’ll do a couple of runs down the black diamonds.”

You turn your face and pucker lips. He smiles and then leans in to kiss you.

“Oh! Um, good morning.” Paige says as she walks into the kitchen with Noah. You start to move away from Harry out of instinct, but he keeps his arms wrapped around you.

“Morning, we made coffee.” Harry says.

“Thanks, I was thinking of making pancakes for the kids, that work for you two?” Noah asks.

“Sure.” You say and tap Harry’s hands so he’ll let you go, which his does reluctantly.

The kids emerge just as Noah’s finishing the last batch of pancakes. Everyone scarfs the food down, and you discuss who’s going with who for the day. Noah and Paige are going to ski with Rachel, and Harry and Andy are going to go with you.

“Were you alright in there this morning?” Harry asks you as you both get your ski clothes on.

“Yeah, why?”

“You stopped letting me hold you, like, the second they walked in.”

“I just felt a little…weird, I don’t know. I feel like a teenager on a family trip with my parents and boyfriend for some reason.”

“We’re all adults, babe, you don’t need to feel that way.”

“They’re not exactly showing off…”

“That’s because they don’t have a hot young thing on their arm like I do.” He smirks and puts his hands on your hips.

“You make it sound like I’m twenty years old, or like you’re forty. You’re not that much older than me.”

“Six years is a decent gap. I mean, think about it. When I was in my first year of uni, you were in the eighth grade.”

“Hm, good point, maybe I should call you Daddy more.” You wink and walk away from him to put your hair up into a braid.

“Save it for when we have kids.” He gives your bum a smack before leaving the bedroom and you shake your head.

You have fun doing the bunny hills with Harry and Andy in the morning, but you assure them they don’t need to stay with you the whole day. In fact, you end up going to the lodge for the afternoon to read and chill out while they go on the lifts to the higher mountains. It was relaxing to watch the snow flurry outside while you were curled up on a couch with a hot drink.

“There’s my little snow bunny.” Harry says as he plops down on the couch next to you.

“Hey, baby, where’s Andy?”

“Sent him up to the counter to get some hot ciders…I see you have one already?”

“Actually it’s tea, so a hot cider sounds great.”

“Perfect.” He kisses your cheek. “Still having fun?”

“Mhm, thanks for checking in.”

“Hi, Y/N, got you a cider.”

“Thank you.” You smile and take the drink from him. “I love apple cider, it’s so good.”

“It’s my favorite, second to hot chocolate.” Andy says as he grabs the spot next to Harry.

“Did you two have a good time on your runs?”

“Yeah! I only fell once.” Andy says proudly.

“It’s not icy at all, which is nice, Makes it easier to not whip down the mountain too fast.” Harry explains. “You know they have gondola rides in the early evenings, we could do that some night so you could see what it all looks like.”

“I’d like that.”

You were surprised at how easy going the week was. There was zero tension, neither of the kids acted up, and everything was just really chill. You were a little anxious, but you realized you really had no reason to be. A lot of laughs were had, you and Noah have a few inside jokes now, and you’re really starting to see the beauty of a blended family. Harry and Paige joke around here and there, but you notice they never sit next to each other, they never touch, and they’re not typically left alone in the same room for too long. Everything between them was purely platonic. You could tell they both were doing all of this for Andy, to give him some sense of normalcy. To see his parents together in some capacity.

You also noticed how much Harry really needed you there. He must have felt almost a little left out last year when he came with everyone. Andy’s used to living with Paige, Noah, and Rachel, but Harry isn’t. Having you there gave him some consistency and comfort. You could go off and take a walk together if he just needed a break. It was nice.

“You two have fun, we’ll just be here watching a movie.” Paige says as you both leave to go on a gondola ride back at the mountain resort.

“Thanks for watching ‘em tonight.” Harry waves off and leads you to his car.

“I’m really excited, babe.” You say as he starts the car.

“Me too, I guess they provide hot chocolate and stuff, and it’s a pretty smooth ride. Everything will be all lit up too.”

You were happy you brought your long coat to wear for this since it was a bit chilly, but it didn’t matter once you were inside your gondola since it was heated. Not to mention Harry put his arm around you immediately, keeping you extra toasty.

“This is so fucking romantic.” You nearly squeal. “Thank you so much, Harry.”

“Told you you’d have a great time this week.” He kisses your temple.

“They have these in Disney World, rides like this across the different parks, it’s so cool.”

“Yeah? You know, I was thinking of taking Andy there for this thirteenth birthday, give him a place he can really use his new phone in.”

“A little over a year to plan it out too, smart.”

“I thought it would be nice, too, as an end of middle school thing, finishing up the eighth grade in one piece and all that.”

“He’ll love, Har. You already know he loves all those Pixar movies. I bet he’ll really like that Toy Story Land in Hollywood Studios.”

“You…seem to know a lot about Disney Word.” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“May or may not have gone with Nora after I got my master’s.” You chuckle. “It’s a lot of fun as an adult. You drink around the world, and there are tons of bars and shops. A lively night life.”

“Well, if you’re such an expert I’ll have to make sure you come too.”

“Duh.” You scoff and it makes him laugh. “God, it’s so beautiful out there.” You gaze out the window at the lights below you illuminating the mountains in different colors.

Harry looks down at you and tilts your chin up. He tucks some hair behind your ear, and you smile as he leans in to kiss you. He lightly nips at your bottom lip before sucking on it. He licks into your mouth, and your tongue molds with his. Your fingers lace through his hair while he holds you as close as he can. He unzips your coat enough that he can kiss down to your neck.

“Harry.” You breathe. “I can’t diddle you in a gondola.”

“M’not asking you to.” He moves to look at you, a smirk growing on his face. “We’re just kissing, is that alright?”

You nod yes and let him continue his attack on your neck. You loved the way Harry would leave marks on you because he was so subtle about it at first. He’d gently kiss on the area, then he’d lick over it, and mouth at it, that would really get you going. Then he’d lightly graze his teeth over the area before really sucking on your tender skin. He was doing that now, and it felt so fucking good. You let out a soft moan, and you wish you could just crawl into his lap, but you didn’t think that would be safe right now.

His hands slide inside your coat so he stick his fingers inside the back of your jeans, squeezing at what he can of your ass. You continue to tug at his hair as he sucks on your skin. He was practically blood thirsty tonight. As much as you loved summer, you loved winter just the same. Turtlenecks and scarves were your best friend, so you didn’t really care how nasty of a bruise Harry left because you could easily cover it.

“Baby, don’t you wanna, um, look outside?” You were breathing heavily. You hear him grunt a ‘no’, and his hands move up your body to grope at your breasts.

His lips meet yours again, and you tug at his jacket, balling the material into your fists. God, you needed him, badly. You lick into his mouth and suck on his tongue, eliciting a groan from him that filled the gondola.

Needless to say, when your ride was over you got a few looks from the crew as you both had swollen lips and red cheeks. When you reach his car, you bite your bottom lip as you watch him get the key in the ignition and turn the heat on blast.

“What are you doing? Get in the car.” He chuckles.

“Is there somewhere private we can go?”

“Yeah.” He nods and you get in. “The movie theater lot is good for privacy.” A few minutes down the road, Harry parks the car in the theater lot. You both look at each other. “What do you wanna do, Y/N?”

“I wanna get in the back seat.” You mumble.

It was around this time last year that you had fucked some random guy in the backseat of his car. Funny how much could change in a year. You and Harry climb into the backseat of his car, heat still blasting to keep you both warm. You weren’t sure if you wanted to full on fuck since it was so cold, but you need to relieve some of the pressure that had built up in your stomach. You get onto his lap, and straddle one of his thighs.

“Gonna use my leg, darling?” He asks as he sponges kisses to the side of your neck that he didn’t attack earlier.

“Mhm.”

You rock back and forth on his thigh, and his hands grips your hips to help you along. He was desperate to see you come like this. He lifts his leg a little to add to the friction he knew you needed.

“That’s it, baby.” He grunts.

“Fuck, Harry, feels so good.” You groan and hide your face in his shoulder. “N-need your fingers, please.” You look at him almost doe-eyed, and he couldn’t say no to that.

He works swiftly to unbutton your jeans. He knew how much you hated having to keep your underwear on, but he assumed you didn’t really care right now from how hard you were grinding against him. He slips his hand inside your underwear and moans softly when he feels how wet you are. He’s able to slide three of his fingers right in and you gasp loudly. You needed the stretch right now. You have one hand tugging at his hair, and the other one tugging at the collar of his shirt. You ride his fingers with him barely needing to do anything.

“Oh my god.” You start panting. “Harry.”

“I want you to come so fucking hard, baby, go on.”

Your head rolls back, giving him such a wonderful view of your body. You squeeze around his fingers over and over, and he feels you pulse around him. Your eyes snap open as you come to your release, not that you can see anything because your vision’s gone hazy. Your scream fills the car, and Harry works you through it, his thumb rubbing at your clit so you can ride it out.

“Harry, please fuck me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You press your lips to his. “Do you have any condoms in here?”

“Mhm, in the glove. Get on your knees, I’ll fuck you from behind so you don’t have to take your pants all the way off.”

You nod and get into position for him while he grabs a condom. You feel him behind you, and he spreads you apart to push inside. He grips one of the headrests to keep his balance while he thrusts inside you.

“Are you, shit, comfortable?” He says as he gets a pace going.

“As much as I can be, yeah.” You look over your shoulder at him and smile. “Are you?”

“Yeah, babe.” He gives your ass a light smack before gripping both of your hips to ram in and out of you. “Gotta make this quick, sorry.”

“It’s okay, feels good!” His tip was already hitting your g-spot, you were done for.

“Yeah, you like it like this?”

“Yes! Fuck, Harry.”

“Taking it so well for me, being so fucking good.”

“Call me your good girl, Harry.”

“You’re my good-oh shit!” He couldn’t finish his sentence. You telling him to call you that made him lose it. He uses the strength his has to reach around and rub your clit so you could get off with him.

“Ah!” You cry out as you release around him. You both take a moment to catch your breaths. He pulls out and gives your ass another smack, but more towards the area between your cheeks where you were a little sensitive right now. “Oh!” You gasp.

“Good girl.” He whispers in your ear and then kisses your cheek.

You were speechless, to say the least.

#harry styles #office neighbors #harry styles fic #harry styles imgaine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #professor!harry #singledad!harry

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Black Dog - part four Word count: 4475± words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt. Part four summary: Dean closes in on the location that the coordinates lead to, and soon begins to grasp the magnitude of this case. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 & @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

Darrington, Washington December 2nd, 2005 - Present Day

Two days later, Dean and his Impala roll down a two-lane highway through Stillaguamish Valley. Mountains rise from the earth as if they are still growing, overshadowing the villages beneath. Rays of sun pierce through the clouds, spotlights of the sky shining down on the land below.

It’s not nearly as warm as it was in Texas. In fact, Dean has the heaters on to cast out the cold. The radio started jamming some time ago, not because of the presence of a ghost or some other supernatural force, but simply because the high mountains are interfering with the radio signal. To break the silence, Dean threw in an old Metallica mixtape, one he used to listen to whenever he was on the road alone. Enter Sandman rages through the speakers as Dean taps his thumb on the steering wheel in the rhythm of the drums.

He needs his music right now. It’s the only thing that can keep him sane. The evident empty space next to him and the silence that filled the car before the screaming guitars did, had him almost turn around at least half a dozen times. The knot in his stomach hasn’t exactly loosened ever since he left Sam on the side of the road, but with his father’s orders in mind, he kept pushing north. You’re here now, Dean. Might as well solve this case.

When he crossed the Texas - Oklahoma state border, he stopped at an internet cafe and traced the location of the coordinates. It turns out that 48°13’11.00”N 121°41’4045”W isn’t an abandoned factory building in the American wastelands or a graveyard which happens to be the final resting place of a not so peaceful spirit. These coordinates are those of a pass on the south side of a mountain range, west of a small town called Darrington, located in Washington State.

When he searched for articles on anything out of the ordinary in that area, he stumbled on a bunch of missing person reports and killings in the local newspapers. The growing population of grey wolves and bears, plus the city closing in on nature, are the causes of this unusual animal behavior, according to the wildlife services. Apparently Dean’s father doubts that the animals have anything to do with it. The missing people and casualties are random. Dean couldn’t find a link between any of them, so he went on and eventually got himself on Arlington-Darrington Road, heading for the small village.

As far as Dean knows, the last attack took place nine days ago. It happened at the exact location of the coordinates, where a family was hiking. The teenage daughter and the father were killed by God knows what, only the nineteen-year-old son survived. He expects the local police will know more about his state and current whereabouts. Having a word with the poor kid is on the hunter’s to-do list, once he finds him.

Dean looks over to the right, where a high peak stands out from the other mountains surrounding him. It seems ominous and beautiful at the same time, intimidating anyone who enters the valley as it reaches for the sky. That’s the place where it went down; Whitehorse Mountain.

The hunter carries on and passes a church and a short airstrip, then he enters the town of Darrington. Not quite sure where he’s supposed to go, he follows the main road, and soon spots the police department on his right. The Impala turns to the curb and through his windshield, the driver takes a look around. The benefits of a small town; everything is close by. Across from the police department he finds a diner and a small hotel, no need to drive around to find a place to stay and to eat. First things first, though, he has to figure out what he’s up against.

Somewhat carelessly, the hunter rummages through the several false ID’s and badges in the glove compartment, choosing one that his father printed a couple of months back. As he gets out of the car and walks around it, he checks out the ID as he mouths the false name. “Glenn Frey. Brilliant, Dad,” he chuckles, instantly recognizing the name of one of the founders of the Eagles.

Confident, Dean steps inside the governmental building. The deputy, who’s reading a file by a large desk in the corner of the room, looks up from his work. “Can I help you?” “Yeah, I’m Glenn Frey from Wildlife Services,” Dean flashes his identification as he walks up to the counter. “Ah, you’re here for the attacks.” The officer stands up and walks over, after which he shakes Dean’s hand. “Deputy Steven Morson.” “Is the sheriff in?” Dean wonders, getting straight to the point. “Not at this moment, but he will be later on,” the young deputy replies.

The hunter purses his lips, letting a sound of discontent slip past his teeth. “I was hoping to gather some more information about the Cleveland family.” “Your colleague missed something?” deputy Morson assumes. Oh oh, the real rangers got here first? Quickly, Dean improvises, the slight hesitation barely noticeable. “We just don’t want to miss any details, make sure we know what we’re up against.” The deputy nods at that. “No problem. I’ll get the documents for you.”

He moves over to the file cases against the back wall, opens one of the doors with a key, and leafs through the files. As he’s working, Dean takes his time to have a look around the small police station. Pictures of officers decorate the bleak walls, together with a collection of medals and declarations. The sheriff’s office is separated from the main desk. A bit further in the back, Dean sees the door that leads to the holding cells. It looks pretty much like every small town’s department he’s been in; way too familiar. There have been several occasions that he saw places like this from behind bars.

“Here you go.” The deputy interrupts his thoughts as he hands the file to Dean. With a grateful nod, so-called Glenn Frey from Wildlife Services lays out the documents on the desk. Attentive, he scans the pages as he flips through them, but there isn’t much there. Puzzled, Dean faces the policeman. “This is it? No imaging, death reports?” “The remains haven’t been brought down the mountain yet. Three hunters went up to track them down, bring the bodies back and shoot the animals if they get the chance, but it snowed for quite a while a few days back, so I think they got delayed,” the deputy explains. Dean hums at that, but doesn’t say anything. And I think they got killed, he ponders quietly. “So all you have is an eyewitness report of ...?” Dean concludes, leaving the line open for the deputy to fill in. “David, the oldest son. Poor guy,” he sighs. “Got hurt bad?” Dean presumes. “No, not at all. He didn’t have a scratch on him. But what he saw… Well, read for yourself,” The policeman nods at the page on the counter, and gives the ranger some space.

Dean scans the eyewitness report intently, taking out the details that matter to him most. Tear wounds, bite marks, limbs shredded off, major blood loss. By the looks of it, the two victims were torn in pieces. The description of the suspected killer is rather poor, though. Apparently Deputy Morson notices the change in Dean’s facial expression, because he comments on it right away.

“The kid lost his entire family, so I can imagine it was all a blur, but he said the animal was ‘invisible’. He also claimed he heard a wolf-like howl right before the incidents happened, but nothing like any grey he has ever heard, apparently. It seems unlikely, doesn’t it? One lone wolf attacking people? I think he kind of lost it, if I may speak honestly,” he says with a little chuckle.

Dean, however, doesn’t find it funny at all and keeps a straight face. “Why don’t we both stick to our fields of expertise, shall we? Is he still in town?” The deputy clears his throat awkwardly. “He is, Sir. He refuses to go back home until his family is recovered from the mountain.”

The hunter nods, able to get behind that reasoning. Foolish, but understandable. Either way, for his investigation on this case it’s quite convenient that David is still here. The report doesn’t give him a lot to go on, and he really needs to know more before he sets foot onto the creature’s hunting grounds. He straightens his back and looks the deputy in the eye before he exits the police department. “Tell me, where can I find David?” “He has a room at the Inn, but I’ve seen him in church a lot,” the young officer says. “Thank you, I’ll see if I can find him.” Dean knocks on the wooden counter before he turns away.

When he exits the building, he halts on the doorstep, narrowing his eyes to shield them from the bright surroundings outside. Snowy mountain tops reflect the sun, a chilly wind rolling through the valley. The hunter adjusts the collar of his leather coat to protect himself from the cool breeze.

“You’re a ranger, aren’t you?” He glances aside, finding an older man on a bench by the grass. The grey-haired local glances at the badge in Dean’s hand, before he makes eye-contact. “I am,” Dean confirms, despite it being a lie. The elder nods at that, averting his gaze to the peak on their west. The deep wrinkles become more evident while he folds his boney hands around the handle of his cane. “That missing family? You won’t find them.” Frowning at that, Dean watches him, curious if he knows more. “What makes you say that?”

“Three of this town’s best hunters have gone up there, they should’ve been back by now,” the senior says with a voice raw from age. “If you’d ask me, I’d say they befell the same fate.” Dean tilts his head slightly in agreement, beholding the menacing scenery as well. The wise man seems to know that there is more going on than meets the eye at the treacherous slopes. “Have you seen anything up there?” he wonders. The old local shakes his head, his stare turning to the icy pavement. “No one has seen anything. It moves too fast. I’ve heard it, though.”

Intrigued, Dean turns his head to face the man on the bench again. There is a fear in his eyes that seems out of character for the old soul who has without a doubt seen so much in his long life. “I’ve lived here for seventy years. Have protected my cattle from quite a few predators during that time. Grizzlies, mountain lions, coyotes, wolves. But what I’ve been hearing lately is unlike any animal I’ve ever heard,” he tells.

Plenty might think the local has gone mad, but Dean has a growing respect for the senior. If he ever had any doubt that this was his kind of deal, it is taken away now. “Well, whatever is up there, I’ll take care of it,” he claims, sure to succeed. “You’re not the first one to say that, and yet no one has returned, but that boy,” The old farmer nods in the direction of the church. “If I were you, I would leave the mountain be.” “Can’t do that,” Dean shakes his head. “More people will disappear.” “So will you if you go to find that beast.”

The elder’s blue eyes surprise Dean when they meet his green ones. They are so piercing and weary, that it startles him, but he manages not to flinch. Instead, he tries to read the man of age, who has one last message for him. “There is something evil in those woods.”

The much younger hunter can’t stop himself from swallowing thickly at the intense stare that comes his way. The local is desperate to change the ranger’s opinion, pleading with him to reconsider. Dean won’t, however, although he takes the warning seriously. The hunter might not know what he will be up against once he heads up, but it’s beginning to dawn on him it’s something unlike he has ever faced before.

On the corner of Commercial Avenue and Riddle Street, Dean halts in front of a small church. The sign in front of the house of God, which is called St. John Mary Vianney Catholic, has his stomach reacting in a way he didn’t expect it to. The fact that both his parents’ names stare back at him, gives this place a whole other meaning. A strange feeling comes to him as a chill runs down his spine. It bothers him, because he’s not one of those new-agey kids who believes in destiny. Of course, this is just an odd coincidence, but somehow it feels like he was meant to be here.

Cautiously, he steps up the porch and enters the building. The church seems deserted, even the priest is nowhere to be seen. Light from outside falls through the stained glass and brings color to the house of the Holy. Candles are lit by the altar and have been burning for a while, given the way the wax has dripped down the silver candleholders. Several smaller flames flicker at the sidewall, worshipping the statue of the Virgin Mary.

As Dean enters the small church and walks through the central aisle between the rows of wooden benches, he spots a figure on the front row. Although the hunter’s footsteps echo through the old building, the guy apparently doesn’t hear him coming in. He absently stares at the statue of Jesus, nailed to a cross. And so Dean halts at the end of the aisle, trying to judge the situation and how to approach. Either the young man on the bench is ignoring him, or he’s so trapped in his thoughts that he has shut himself out from the world around him. Dean decides to say something to break through to him. “Are you David?”

Slowly, the young man glances aside, but doesn’t look Dean in the eye. His gaze is empty and beholds immense devastation. As if he has cried so much over the last couple of days, that he’s unable to express himself any longer. “Who are you?” he asks with a raspy voice. For a moment there, the hunter considers taking out his ID, but then he changes his mind. Sam is always far better in these situations, so he tries to imagine how his little brother would approach David. He decides to be upfront. “I’m Dean,” he answers.

The introduction doesn’t trigger a response, though; the only living member of the Clevelands continues to stare into the nothingness absently. Dean exhales, pondering. How the fuck is he going to get through to this kid? It’s clear as day David doesn’t want company, and right about now, he could use Sam’s people’s skills. His little brother can work miracles with a few kind words and a pleading gaze. A bit ill-at-ease, Dean looks down at his feet. “I heard about your family. I’m sorry.” The silence that follows is even more evident under these high ceilings. The acoustics should allow every sound to be amplified, yet it remains eerily quiet. “I know how you feel,” he continues carefully. David scoffs. “No, you don’t.”

His firm answer catches the hunter off guard. The young man is right, he doesn’t know how he feels, not entirely. Dean didn’t see his entire family die, but the sound of his mother’s horrifying scream still rips through his mind every now and then.

For a moment he goes back in time. He doesn’t remember much of his early childhood, just bits and pieces, stills taken from a movie. But what went down on November 2nd 1983, the one day he wishes he could erase from his memory, he can recall in detail.

He remembers how he was comfortably sitting in his mother's arms. She held him close, she always did. She carried him into Sam’s room and they wished his little brother goodnight. Dad was there too, it was the last time he remembers him truly smiling. He remembers being tucked in by both of them. ‘Angels are watching over you,’ Mom said, right before he drifted off. Then he was awoken by the chilling cry that would continue to haunt him until this day. He remembers rushing out of bed and into the hallway, where he froze to the ground. From Sam’s nursery, a rage of flames heated up the entire house. Then his father appeared from the fire, holding little Sam in his arms, handing him over.

Take your brother outside as fast as you can, don’t look back! Now, Dean! Go!

Even though the heat was unbearable, as was the toxic smoke that filled every room of the house, he ran downstairs as his father told him to and eventually found himself in the front yard, looking up at his burning home. Then Dad came out, snatched both his sons from the grass, and carried them away from the house, after which moments later the second floor exploded. As he looked over his Dad’s shoulder at the burning remains of their house, he knew: he would never see his mother again.

Dean swallows with difficulty, coming back to the present. “Believe me. I know.” A bit surprised by that statement, David looks up into Dean’s eyes, holding his gaze for a few long seconds. “You’ve lost your family too?” “My mother,” he replies. “She was murdered.”

Dean looks away for a brief moment. His Mom’s death was hard on him then, it still is now. It might have happened twenty-two years ago, yet avenging her is what motivates him to keep going. She is the reason his father is willing to go to the edge of the earth and beyond to catch the son of a bitch that killed her. That defining moment kickstarted the hunt that would turn out to be his life’s work. That night, he lost so much more than just his mom.

Dad never recovered from her death, condemning his boys to a career of hunting. They are soldiers now, fighting a war of which they can’t grasp the magnitude. A crusade against the monster that tore the family apart. Ironically and sadly, that same crusade seems to have driven the Winchesters apart even further than Mary’s killer ever did.

Look at him; he has no idea where his father is and he got into a huge fight with Sam. He is truly on his own right now, unsure if his remaining family will return. What if right now, Sam walks into a trap? What if Dad gets killed by the same thing that killed Mom?

Suddenly it strikes him. David is what Dean is afraid to become; he’s alone.

“What happened on that mountain?” Dean asks, trying to focus on the case again before his mind spirals out of control, but the only survivor cuts him off immediately. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” “I think you do, but you’ve given it up because no one believes what you are saying,” Dean replies, seeing right through it.

Perplexed, David looks aside, eying the stranger who is still standing in the aisle, in the middle of the church. “Like I said, I know how you feel,” Dean repeats, reading the question from his face. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” The young guy shakes his head, defeated. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.” “Try me,” Dean encourages.

With a sigh, David looks down at his feet while the hunter observes him. His dark hair is a mess and he has a stubble growing. Blood and dirt has embedded in the prints of his fingers and around his nails, the blood of his family that seems impossible to wash off.

“Dad, Ruth and I were hiking on the north side of Whitehorse Mountain. We started out early in the morning and everything went smoothly. We had about an hour of light left, when me and my sister reached the location where we planned to set up camp first. Then it started…” he tells as he folds his shaking hands together. “Ruth and I heard a cry of some sort of animal. For a moment we thought it was a grey wolf, but I’ve heard them before, this… this was different. It took Dad ages to get over the Lone Tree Pass, I thought he might have some equipment trouble or something, so I went back.”

His jaw clenches and he takes a breath, now he has come to the hard part. Tears fill his eyes, but he is able to hold them back. “I found him, against a tree. There was blood everywhere, his chest was… he was torn into pieces. He - he had bite wounds and nail scratches all over him, so deep that I - I could see the bone, his - his intestines. His arm was s - severed,” David stammers. “And your sister?” Dean asks sympathetically.

A short pause and he can see in David’s eyes that he relives the haunting memory every time he talks about it. “Same thing... I heard her scream, but by the time I got there, it - it was too late. There was barely anything left. She was only sixteen,” he reveals with a trembling voice. David rubs his face and wipes away the tears, but he stays strong. “Then I heard it, this deep growl. It felt like it was right behind me. When I turned around I didn’t see it, but I heard the call again. Then everything returned to normal,” he remembers. “What do you mean, back to normal?” Dean questions, curious about his choice of words.

The young guy looks up at him again from the bench. He hesitates, as if what he’s about to say will just confirm that he’s completely losing his mind. “The mountain came back to life. Birds started singing again, the wind blew through the trees. Right after the first cry, everything went dead. You could hear a penny drop in that forest,” David tells him. “I don’t know how to describe it. It… It was surreal.” Intently, Dean listens to him and doesn’t give any sign of disbelief what so ever. “Then what happened?” he asks, intrigued.

“I ran. I knew I needed help and the only place where I could find it was down in the valley. So I ran.” David drops his gaze again, ashamed. “I’m such a coward. I should’ve called it in with the satellite phone. I should’ve stayed by their side.” “There’s nothing you could have done for your family. You would’ve ended up dead if you had stayed,” Dean says, trying to relieve him from his guilt. Carelessly, the lone survivor shrugs. “Maybe that would have been better.”

Dean keeps quiet, because he understands where he’s coming from. If your entire family ends up dead, what is there to live for? He wouldn’t want to stay behind either.

“You - you know what the worst part is?” David stammers. “I have absolutely no idea how to explain what happened. It wasn’t an animal, I know that much. But if it wasn’t, what the hell was it? There’s just no explanation.” “There is,” the hunter states. “What? That it was bigfoot?” David scoffs sarcastically. “There’s no such thing as bigfoot… I think,” Dean answers, doubting his own words the moment he says them. “Then what killed my family?” the young Cleveland wants to know. “I’m not sure yet, but I can tell you, it ain’t no wolf. It’s not from our world,” Dean states. “I don’t care from what world it is. I want it dead,” David makes clear.

“I’ll track it and get rid of it,” the man next to him promises. Determined, the mourning teenager gets up from the bench. “Good. When are we heading out?” But Dean holds out his hand in front of him, stopping him. “Whoa, dude. I don’t think it’s wise for you to come along.” “Do you know anything about that mountain? Do you know anything about the trails? About hiking?” David questions. “I’ll manage, that’s beside the point. This is gonna get ugly, David. You don’t want to be a part of this,” Dean makes clear, trying to discourage him.

“Trust me, that mountain is one big monster by itself. If you don’t know her paths, you’ll get lost and die. I know these woods like the back of my hand. Together we’ll have a chance. I’m not gonna sit here while you go up there and get killed just like those three hunters,” he argues, his voice gaining strength. Dean huffs. Smart kid. He’s got spunk, alright. “Whatever it is, it killed my family. So don’t tell me I can’t be part of this,” the young guy insists firmly. “If you had the chance to face who killed your mother, wouldn’t you take it?”

Dean doesn’t have an answer ready for that one, he wasn’t expecting a curveball. David is right. If he had even the smallest opportunity to have a share in the fight against the monster that killed Mom, he wouldn’t even have to think about it. “Alright,” the hunter sighs. “But if anything happens to you--” David doesn’t even let him finish and walks past him towards the exit. As he does, he looks over his shoulder. “What? Like I have anything to lose?”

Dean watches him leave, the corner of his mouth pulling into a small smile. He recognizes himself in the kid; hands on, not cowering in the face of danger, willing to do everything for his family. He won’t be able to stop the only remaining Cleveland, and so he follows.

As he descends down the steps of the church, he finds David standing on the sidewalk, staring up at the sky. Before them, Whitehorse Mountain stands tall, looking down on them like a dark, looming thunderstorm. That’s what they need to overcome, that’s their challenger.

It is going to be a difficult climb, but fighting a vicious creature along the way makes things a little more complicated. Dean wishes he had Sam to back him up on this one, because he’s sure his smart brother would have an idea what they are up against. Even though he’s not fond of having a civilian to worry about on a hunt, David does know this terrain. Dean has to face reality here; he’s going to need a guide. He only hopes that he can bring the kid back down, safe and sound. Enough people have died on that mountain already.

Story fact: the church mentioned in this chapter was the actual name of a church in Darrington in 2005. Came across in during research, and just had to use it!

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part 5 here

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