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bqstqnbruin · 5 months ago

Text

Always the Bridesmaid

I'm interrupting my regularly scheduled programming (again)(please read this series) with a fic that I came up with when I was writing a happy ending for @laurenairay, which, considering that is weird for me, I had to balance out the universe with this fic instead.

This is reader insert and for the most part the reader is gender neutral, but does present societally more feminine (mention of doing their hair and makeup, wearing a dress).

Have fun!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, I was mean to Quinn

WC: 5528

______________

You were always told falling in love with someone would take every part of your heart and have you give it to someone else. Falling in love was supposed to be a whirlwind of joy, sadness, anxiety, excitement, fear, happiness, pain, and bliss. Your parents made you believe that loving someone meant your life would change, hopefully for the better, and you would be able to share your life with someone who wasn’t supposed to leave.

He told you he was taking you out for dinner, to be ready when he got home. You knew you were going to one of the fancier restaurants in town, taking special care to do your hair so not a strand was out of place, do your makeup just the way you liked it, and wearing your favorite outfit that you took the time to steam the wrinkles out of so that you didn’t look like you had spent the entire day rotting on the couch, even though you did.

You knew what he was going to ask.

____________________

“What are you doing right now?” Quinn’s head pokes through your bedroom window, your boyfriend climbing into your room, trying not to laugh as he struggles to bend the right way to make it through without getting hurt.

You turn the page in your book, not bothering to look up. “I’m in the middle of taking over Poland,” you deadpan as he makes his way over to your bed, plopping himself down at your feet. “One day, you’re going to break your leg or something doing that.”

Quinn’s bedroom in your respective family’s lake house’s was opposite yours, allowing the two of you to see what the other was doing whenever the curtains were open. Since you were younger, that was your signal to each other that they could come over. You thought it would involve using the front doors, but Quinn took it as an excuse to truly act like a twelve year old, despite being older than that, and makeshift a ladder from the tree that was right there.

He grinned at you, leaning against the wall and starting to fiddle with the fringe of the blanket sitting at the foot of your bed. “I want to go do something.”

“We haven’t even been here for seventy two hours and I’m pretty sure you’ve been active for seventy of them.”

“Please,” he whines, leaning over so that his body is parallel with yours. You try to ignore him as you attempt to focus on your book, feeling his eyes practically pierce your shin. “I want to go for a walk.”

“If you can scale the side of this house, I’m sure you can do that just fine.”

“I want company.”

“You have two brothers.”

“They’re asleep.”

“We both know if either of them wanted something from you, they would not hesitate to wake you up.”

“But I want you to come with me.” You put your bookmark in to save your space, giving him an unimpressed look. “Please? How often do we get to do things where it’s just us?” He takes your hand in his, the calluses on his hands from using his stick in his driveway back home without his gloves surprisingly soothing to you. You roll your eyes, Quinn nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as you can’t help but smile.

You pull him off the bed, your book all but forgotten, Quinn trailing you like a love-sick puppy.

____________________

You got ready way earlier than you needed to be, anxiously pacing around your apartment you shared with him. You could see him in every corner; it was his apartment first that you had eventually moved into. The furniture was all his, the decorations that were there were chosen by someone he paid rather than the two of you picking it out yourselves like you wanted, even the books in the bookcases weren’t ones you picked; half of them were just for show, those coffee table books on topics you didn’t care about, but looked impressive to those who didn’t know either of you.

____________________

“This is how you decorate?”

You roll your eyes at him as he flops on your bed. As usual, Quinn was being no help to anything, but it was your first time being with each other since you left for college. “I’m going to be here for a year, why do more?”

“You don’t even have a picture of us in here.” He sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. He kisses the top of your head, you letting your eyes flutter closed as you exhale against him, curled into his chest.

“My roommate keeps bringing guys back,” you tell him. “Four of them would see a picture of you and ask me to send you their highlights.” Quinn burst out laughing, throwing his head back and sending a shiver through your body. You missed hearing him in person, being with him and being able to touch him.

You missed him.

You pull away from him slightly to kiss him, his hands tightening, bunching up your shirt in his fists. Thank god your roommate was away this weekend.

“Leave room for Jesus,” one of your friends barges in, Quinn practically launching you off him. You could feel the heat rush to your face, convinced it was visible from space by the smirk on the intruder's face. “Party tonight at Kappa house.”

You exchange a look with Quinn, trying to get a read on his face before looking back at your friend. “Ok?”

“Are you two coming?”

Quinn shrugs, leaning back on your bed, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin that made your heart race. That stupid smirk on his face told you his answer. “Sure.”

Your friend squeals, launching into talking about you borrowing clothing, getting ready, making sure all three of you look as fantastic as possible for what was all, apparently, your first college frat party.

Two hours later, you were in a different room down the hall, pre-gaming, cringing as your friend thrust a shot of rosé wine into your hand, immediately following it up with raspberry vodka. You nearly gagged after downing the combination that never should have existed, looking at the disgusted look on Quinn’s face that mirrored your own. “I wish I never drank that,” he sputters out, sticking his tongue out as if the air around him would get rid of whatever that lingering taste was.

“I’m never drinking vodka again.”

Quinn shrugs. “You never liked it much anyway.” You look at him for a second, not sure if you were unable to see the connection he was trying to make because you genuinely didn’t know, or if the horrible alcohol was somehow already fogging your brain. “Remember a few summers ago when some of our hockey friends came up to visit? They brought vodka and you hated it.”

“Was that the night I fell asleep in your bed and your parents freaked out when they found us?”

“It was the night you fell asleep in the bathtub with Jack, actually.”

You cringe, biting your bottom lip, wishing that he hadn’t brought that night up. Nothing happened between you and his brother, but it was easy to see why Quinn was annoyed at the sight of the two of you. Actually, you remember telling him nothing happened, because nothing did. So why did he get mad at it? “Why would you bring that up?”

Quinn shrugs, turning his attention to the group of guys cheering on another as he shotgun a can of beer. “Just made me think of it.”

____________________

He texted you that he was downstairs, ready to pick you up, just as you agreed he would do that morning. He was late coming back from practice, letting you know that he took the time to get ready at the practice facility so he wouldn’t have to come up and do it.

You felt yourself exhale, the anxiety in your chest dissipating ever so slightly. Him being downstairs gave you more time before you had to see him.

You didn’t want to see him.

____________________

“I want to see you, though.”

You roll your eyes, thankful that Quinn called you instead of Facetimed you, knowing he would get upset over your reaction. You were having this conversation for the fifth time now, Quinn begging you to come see him when you told him it wasn’t possible. “I have four exams this week and I have a job interview. I need to be here.”

“Where’s the job?”

You hesitate for a second, trying to figure out if you should lie or not. “New Jersey.” Quinn doesn’t say anything. “Q?”

“I thought you were applying for jobs here?”

“I am,” you say quickly, “But I need a job after graduation, regardless of where it is. I can’t move to Vancouver if I don’t have a job, too.”

“I can take care of both of us.”

You let out a loud sigh, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. “I don’t want you to have to ‘take care of me,’ Quinn, I can do it myself.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to.”

“And what happens if we break up?” you snap. “What happens when you and I aren’t together anymore and I have nothing because you controlled everything? I’ll have no job, no experience, nothing to fall back on and I’m screwed.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything for too long, your heartbeat getting faster with every second he was silent. You didn’t know you were afraid of that. “You think we’re going to break up?” he finally asks, his voice barely audible.

“Quinn,” you start.

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re right. You don’t want to bank on us being together forever.”

“Quinn,” you try again.

“Hey, I have to head to the arena, and you have to study. I’ll talk to you later.”

The line goes silent before you can say anything else. You check the time, taking into account the time difference. You knew Quinn’s game-day schedule. He still had two more hours before he had to leave.

____________________

You get downstairs, seeing your boyfriend leaning against his car. He was in a suit, one you hadn’t seen before. He bought a new one for tonight. It fit him well; you could see the curve of every part of his body, every crevice that you knew by heart, everything that was stashed in his pockets outlined. You could see the box in his pant pocket.

He was looking down at his phone, a lock of his hair falling into his eye without even hearing you coming towards him. That sight of him used to make your heart skip a beat.

He finally looks up, the grin on his face growing with every step you took towards him. He shoves his phone in his pocket, pulling you in for a kiss. His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressed to yours, you praying he doesn’t notice the slight sweat you felt forming over your entire body.

He opens the car door for you, running around to get into the driver seat and take you into the city.

“You are gorgeous,” he breathes out, his hand resting on your thigh as he drives.

____________________

You stare at your phone, praying that someone would email you or call you. If you watched your phone enough, you could will them into getting back to you, right?

“You’re next,” your cousin’s hand finds your shoulder, making you jump out of your skin. “God, ok.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, putting your phone down and getting in the makeup chair. The person your cousin hired to do the bridal party makeup was talking to you about what you wanted, you barely paying attention while your mind wandered, trying not to be rude and check your notifications every time your phone screen lit up.

“What’s with you?”

You look to your left, the makeup artist turning your head back toward them. “I’m supposed to be hearing back from that job,” you tell her.

“So why do you look like you want to throw up?”

You hesitate, a text from Quinn showing up on your screen to let you know that he was almost ready to head to the wedding venue.

“Because it’s my dream job, but,” your voice trails off. She eyes you, the look on her face burning a hole in the side of your face. “It’s not in Vancouver.”

She nods. “So it’s not near Quinn.”

“It’s in New Jersey.”

“Are you going to take it if you get it?”

You exhale. The job was everything you wanted; in the field you studied in college, in a great place where you didn’t have to spend what felt like millions on rent, the people seemed great, the benefits were perfect.

It was just in the wrong country.

“You know what? You’ve just graduated, we’re getting ready for my wedding, and your boyfriend is out there probably thinking about the day that this is the two of you, instead. Relax.”

Before you could give an answer, it was time for you to get your hair done, your cousin being whisked away by the photographer to start getting some pictures taken. You didn’t even have an answer.

Your phone buzzes, another text from Quinn, a new email in your inbox.

You don’t check it, your thoughts lost in the whirlwind that became getting ready to join your cousin to walk down the aisle to who was supposed to be the love of her life.

The bridal party ahead of you starts to enter, your cousin behind you pacing while the music continues to play. She calmed you down before when she was the one who was supposed to be anxious. What could you do now?

You walk forward, the aisle seeming much longer than it did during the rehearsal dinner considering you were now in much higher heels, with makeup that you hoped wasn’t running down your face from the heat you felt.

You catch Quinn sitting by himself, the smile on his face making your heart skip a beat.

You felt yourself calm down, all the worries you had melting away as you headed toward the altar.

You wanted to be walking toward him, to see him waiting for you, ready to tell everyone you cared about that you wanted to be together forever.

The entire wedding went by in a blur, your conscience focused entirely on you picturing yourself with Quinn standing at the altar.

When you finally get the chance to check your phone on the way to the reception, the email notification sits on your screen, unanswered. You open the app, your heart racing.

‘Good morning, we are pleased to offer you the position…”

____________________

The two of you fall into mundane conversation once you’re seated. He had asked for a table away from everyone, off to the side where the two of you had privacy, just as the two of you had liked it. You felt awkward being in the middle of any restaurant; he hated having people stare at him because they were sure they knew who he was and spent the entire time gaping at him once they realized who he was.

He asks about your day, about your job.

You relay to him the events of the day, just as you did every single day the two of you had time to sit down and eat together. It was the same conversation every time, yet he seemed to love to hear about it.

“I remember when I was excited about this job.”

“Do you still want to quit?”

____________________

“How do we manage this?” Quinn’s voice comes through your phone, an exasperated plea.

You hesitate, trying to figure out what to say. “I have no clue,” you admit. “Do we try long distance?”

Quinn sighs, the sound of his car starting up in the background. “We’ve been doing that for the last four years. Do we really want to keep doing it like this?”

Silence comes from you again, this conversation going exactly how you thought it would; neither of you sure what you wanted to do.

Your dream job made you an offer that you couldn’t refuse. Your boyfriend was on the other side of the continent in another country. You couldn’t do both.

“It’s that or we aren’t together anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to take this job?” Quinn’s voice cuts you off before you can say more.

“Quinn.”

“Is this job this important to you? Did you try to look for something near here?”

“You know that it is and you know that I did,” you reply, your tone getting defensive. “I’m supposed to be meeting my friends tonight and I still need to get ready,” you lie to him, giving yourself the best out you could. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You pace around your apartment, pulling up the email chain with the offer letter attached. It was everything you could want. It just wasn’t close enough to the person you wanted.

You end up falling asleep on your couch, waking up in pain from the angle you somehow thought was comfortable the night before, with someone pounding on the door to be let in. Your phone starts buzzing, your brain barely functioning to register anything other than the time, almost noon.

“I’m coming, calm down,” you rasp, hoping the banging would subside. “Quinn?”

“I can’t have this conversation with you over the phone,” he barges in, pushing past you.

“How did you get here?”

“I took the first flight out.” He sits down on the couch you were just asleep on, making no comment of your obviously disheveled state. “We can’t break up. I love you and I don’t want us to break up.”

You sit down next to him. “I love you, too.”

“Do you want to break up?” he asks, panic in his voice. You study him for a second, knowing that the silence you were giving him wasn’t settling him in any way. He was clearly exhausted; his skin was more pale than normal, his hair poking in every direction possible. The bags under his eyes were darker than you had ever seen him, and you’ve seen him after he pulled an all nighter for a final, running only on energy drinks, french fries, and pure hope that he would pass the exam that morning.

“I don’t want to,” you start, your voice trailing off. “But, Quinn, this job.”

“Marry me.”

You jolt back. “What?”

“Marry me. Don’t worry about the job. You don’t have to worry about anything. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.”

“Quinn,” you scoff, a laugh bubbling into your voice. “We can’t get married.”

____________________

“You could easily find a job somewhere else, though, right? If you wanted to?” he asks.

You nod. “But it was already overwhelming trying to figure everything out when I first started. Do I really want to do that again?”

____________________

“How are you settling in?” Quinn’s question made your heart ache, the first time you’re talking to him since you moved only able to be a few minutes over Facetime. “Has Jack helped you?”

You let out a laugh. “You know he’s only helped eat my food.” Quinn’s laugh matches yours, a tightness in your chest at the sound. “I miss you.”

Quinn lets out a sigh, closing his eyes. “I miss you, too.” Both of you stare at each other in silence for a moment, you looking away to pretend to continue unpacking. You were still trying to find everything in the boxes you hastily packed up, the start date your job provided you only giving you a week to pack and find a new place. Everything was in unlabelled boxes and just thrown together, meaning you were finding multiple pairs of underwear mixed into a box of dishes and books. “I wish we didn’t have to break up.”

You feel a sob creeping up your throat, the same sentiment you had being verbalized by the one person you wished didn’t feel the same. If this were a clean break, everything would be so much easier. If it were a clean break it would be easier to get over and move on. If it were a clean break, then you wouldn’t have what you were sure was a permanent pit in your stomach telling you that this was the wrong choice.

Before you can answer, someone knocks on your door. “Um, I’m gonna go. I think that’s Jack or Luke. They said they were going to come and help today.”

“Tell them to behave.”

You force a smirk through the tears that were brimming in your eyes. “We know they won’t.” You say your goodbyes, the tears finally falling down your cheeks when you open your door. “Oh, Nico,” you sniffle, Jack and Luke’s teammate standing in your doorway without the two boys who were supposed to be there.

Nico’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” he takes a small step towards you, gently resting his hands on your arms. His attempt at comfort sends a shiver through your body, the attempt to hide your physical recoiling at his touch unsuccessful. It wasn’t one of disgust, it was more out of shock. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” you tell him, tugging his sleeve to pull him into your apartment. “I’m just,” you hesitate. Telling an attractive guy that you were crying over your ex seemed like a bad idea. Especially when that ex is the brother of two of this guy's closest friends. “I’m overwhelmed from unpacking.”

Nico nods, looking around at the mess of boxes that are cluttered in what is supposed to be your living room. “When was the last time you ate?”

You stop and think, checking your phone to see it was closer to dinner than any other normal meal time. “Yesterday?”

“Come on.” Nico holds out his hand to you, ignoring the uncertain look on your face. “Jack and Luke asked me to come because they’re doing god knows what, and we both know dealing with them when you’re hungry is going to end up with one of them dangling from that window by their sock.”

You can’t help but laugh knowing that you and Quinn have done something like that to Luke when you were younger over the summer. There’s a reason there’s now a small balcony outside Quinn’s window. The thought of you and Quinn makes your heart hurt again, the threat of tears coming back.

“Hey,” Nico’s voice goes soft, pulling you into a hug. You melt into him, the comfort of his cologne making you exhale. “Whatever it is, you’ll be ok.”

____________________

“Remember that one wedding we went to, one of your college friends?” he reaches across the table to take your hand, his voice shaking as he abruptly changes the subject. He waits for you to nod. “Do you think about what it would be for us to get married?”

As soon as you hear the words starting to form in his mouth, you grab your water with your free hand, gulping it down to give yourself time. “Um, yeah,” you lie.

____________________

“Jack, you fucking idiot,” you scold him, grabbing the napkins and trying to get as much red wine off your white shirt as you could. It’s your fault, really. You’ve known Jack long enough to know how dangerous of a color it is to wear around him.

“I’ll grab you something to wear,” Nico mumbles, glaring at his teammate. He heads to his room, the base of his neck turning bright red as he walks away.

Jack looks sorry, giving you a puppy-dog pout that you were all too used to from your childhood. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. Nico comes back with a sweatshirt, a Devils logo and the number 13 on the breast for you to throw on while you’re here. He plants a kiss on the side of your head once you pull it on, sitting down next to you.

The rest of the night passes by, Jack spilling two more drinks all over Nico’s table that made Nico send his teammate home.

You settle in his bed, letting out an exhale as you sink into the soft mattress. Nico comes into his room, your shirt in hand. He tried his best to get the stain out.

“I think it’s a lost cause,” he tells you, tossing the shirt into his hamper. “I’ll see if the cleaners can get it out when I bring my suits in next time.”

“I know better than to wear white around a Hughes brother,” you joke, Nico climbing in next to you and pulling you close.

You hear him sigh, tucking his arm under his head as he lays down. “Do you still miss him?”

The silence between you two is palpable. You never talk about your past with Quinn, awkwardly dancing around the subject whenever he inevitably gets brought up. You weren’t completely over him, but how could you tell your boyfriend that? You lived here, Quinn was in Vancouver. “I miss my friendship with him.”

It wasn’t totally a lie. Even before you started dating Quinn, he was your best friend. Now, you could barely talk to each other.

“I get that,” you hear him say, not without you noticing the strangled tone in his voice.

Your phone buzzes, Jack tagging you and Nico in a story from your dinner, captioning it ‘taken moments before disaster (myself) struck.’ You can’t help by laugh, showing Nico the post. He smiles, the two of you taking in the photo. The way Nico looks at you makes your heart flutter. He loves you. You know he does. And you do love him.

You look at the time, the late hour making you groan. “Ugh, fuck.”

“What?”

“I’m only going to get, like, three hours of sleep if I want to make it home in time to get ready for work.”

“Why don’t you move in here?” Your head whips to him, feeling a pain in your neck, trying to hide your wince so that Nico doesn’t think you hate his idea. “I mean, you spend more time sleeping here than you do at your actual place.”

“Are you serious?”

Nico smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. “Of course.”

You mirror his smile. “Yeah.”

You eventually fall asleep, an excited feeling about a new chapter in yours and Nico’s relationship keeping you awake.

When your alarm finally goes off, you let out a groan, Nico stirring beside you as he wakes up with you, despite not needing to. You see a text on your phone, sent not long after you went to bed.

It was from Quinn.

‘Does he at least make you happy?’

____________________

Nico is clearly nervous, his free hand rubbing against his thigh. You can feel the sweat forming on his hand in yours. “We’ve been together for how many years now? Three?” You nod. “I love you.”

____________________

Every time Vancouver came to play in New Jersey, Ellen and Jim insist on you joining them to watch the game. They think of you like a daughter, despite the hopes of you actually joining their family dwindling down to nothing with every year that passes by with you staying in New Jersey.

Of you staying with Nico rather than Quinn.

It doesn’t get easier any time you see Quinn. According to a drunken Jack, Quinn still loves you. You know you love Nico, but can you also still have feelings for Quinn?

The Hughes parents weren’t there yet, you sitting alone as the two teams come out onto the ice for warmups. You see Quinn, the sight of him making your heart skip a beat, even after all these years of falling in love with Nico. He looks like he’s zoning out while skating in a circle around nothing, his stick in both his hands parallel with the ice. You know him well enough to know that this is how way of focusing, reviewing everything he could remember about the game tapes he had spent the last few days studying, as if this weren’t the third time this season he was playing against his brothers.

Against your boyfriend.

The three brothers meet at center ice, taking a picture as they did before every game, the tradition somehow never losing its magic and never getting skipped over no matter how many meetings the two teams had. You feel your anxiety go up when Nico skates over and joins them, the smile on Nico’s face not being matched in the slightest by Quinn.

The last time you saw Quinn, it was like you were two strangers who were forced together by accident, rather than being two people who grew up with each other, who knew everything about each other. His sentences and comments to you were short, his eyes never meeting yours.The only thing he said that really mattered to you was him telling you he wasn’t sure he would ever stop loving you.

You didn’t remember how that even came up.You had been talking about the wedding you were in, one of your friends from college getting married a few months before yours and Quinn’s last meeting. Quinn was invited, but, according to Jack, he couldn’t get himself to go once he saw you were in the wedding party.

Your phone buzzes, a text from your boss. You can’t help but let out a groan, knowing that nothing good could come of him texting you on a Friday night when he knew you were at the game.

You skim the message, hoping that it was something that you could ignore for a few hours until you and Nico got home that night. One word catches your eye, causing you to choke on the sharp breath you took in.

‘Vancouver’ is right there, your boss telling you that there was an opening in your company’s office there, that you would be perfect for it, that you would get a higher salary, a relocation fee, the company would take care of everything you needed to have you move to Canada.

You would be near Quinn.

You let your boss know that you would think about it, reminding him that you were out with your friends at the game, just as you told him that morning. He sends back a simple thumbs up, as if that was a good enough reaction to letting you know that your dream job just got better.

The Hughes finally join you right as the anthems begin, pulling you in for hugs. The game begins, your attention anywhere by the actual game. You were facing the ice, but your mind was back to your phone. During the intermissions, you’re completely anti-social, looking at the application your boss sent you that you would need to fill out. He was right, you were perfect for the job.

The game ends, you heading down with the parents to see the guys, Quinn the first one out. He talks to his parents, you awkwardly standing off to the side.

He finally acknowledges you when his brothers come out of their locker room.

“So, how are you?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground.

“Good. You?”

“Good. How’s the job?”

“Good,” you let out. “There’s an opening in our Vancouver office,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Quinn’s eyes light up, the smile on his face one that you hadn’t seen from him in a while. It made you smile. “Really? Are you going to take it?”

You sigh, the smile melting from your face. “I’m not sure yet. I would have to move. I would have to figure out Visa’s and everything. I would have to figure out things with,” your voice trails off, both of you knowing what you meant without you saying it. “Nico.”

Your boyfriend appears behind Quinn, a sudden panic coursing through you. You remember the idea of being away from Quinn tearing you apart inside, the thought making you sick. The idea of being away from Nico didn’t have that same effect.

____________________

“Will you marry me?” He asks, the look on his face hopeful and nervous while he waits for your answer.

You hesitate, knowing that he was panicking, hating that you made him feel that way. Your phone buzzes with a text from your boss before you can answer, your eyes flicking down to the screen. ‘Still interested in Vancouver?’ You hadn’t told Nico you applied for the job. You told yourself you didn’t want it that much but that it wouldn’t hurt to apply. Seeing Quinn keping coming up in your mind each time you lied to yourself, how you would be back in the same city as him.

You still love Quinn.

“No.”

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cowboyfromh3ll · 2 years ago

Note

Hcs for how each of the boys to react to "I'm pregnant"?

Any of them that you want to write for :)

So excited

English not my first language. Sorry

Van Der Linde Gang's Boys' Reactions To "I'm pregnant" (And Eagle Flies)

Hehehe this was so cute and also I didn't edit this ❤️

Warnings: none

Arthur Morgan

He'd be so fucking happy

Probably in disbelief at first but oh my God he'd be overjoyed

Ask you if you're serious over and over

Once he's convinced he's gonna ask all these questions about your physical and mental wellbeing

Celebrates with you (whatever that entails wink wink)

In his elated haze he's gonna wanna ask all these questions about your future together as parents

Is aware the gang ain't the best place to raise a kid but he'll reassure you that you'll have the whole gangs support

John Marston

Oh god

Let's just say he wouldn't be the most elated parent 😭💀

He's already got Jack and now he needs to take care of another?

If this were a revelation that came earlier in the game he's gonna be very irresponsible but I feel like he wouldn't deny that the kid was his

So at that point he's sort of forced to actually give a damn about him

And believe me he'd try but he wouldn't be the best at it, would need guidance

If this came later in the game like epilogue he'd probably be WAY more happier.

Your lives are finally settled and you can afford to have a kid

He'd be the happiest and more supportive husband and dad

Still wouldn't be sure about all the ropes but he'd try

Dutch Van Der Linde

He'd be SO happy

Like genuinely he'd shower you with gifts and praise and reassurance

I feel like part of it would be a power thing for him because not only can he lead a gang, but now he can lead a family

Also some sort of weird power symbol for him. Idk how, but it is

Wouldn't let you lift a finger

Would probably keep you in his tent to rest 24/7 and only allows a few people (Grimshaw, Hosea) to see you

He's going to hope and pray it's a boy

Charles Smith

HE'D BE IN SO MUCH SHOCK AND FEEL SM HAPPINESS IT'D BE SO CUTE

You sorta have to repeat the news to him a few times for him to fully absorb it

Literally a dream of his to start a family one day so now that he has it he's ecstatic

Probably incentive to leave the gang though, doesn't want his child growing up in that environment

Would prefer if you sit back and rest but won't hold you back if you don't want to

Javier Escuella

This is cause to celebrate

Takes you into town on a date

Offers you massages, foot rubs, hand massages

Sings to you to calm you

Holds your hair when you throw up (true love)

Buys you clothes to accomodate to your changing body

Kieran Duffy

THE SWEETEST REACTION

I feel like he'd start crying

Asks to touch your belly and would speak to it

That night he'd fall asleep while holding it

Wakes up the next morning and remembers you're pregnant and his day is already off to an amazing start

Get drunk while celebrating it and he'd boast to everyone about how he's gonna be a dad

Sean Macguire

He'd say some stupid shit I already know it

Probably crack a sex joke

He's getting stupid, fucking drunk. I'm talking black out

He's probably gonna wanna celebrate if you catch my drift HAHAHA

He'd forget to be gentle sometimes out of excitement, like carrying you around and cheering

Refuses to let you do any work

In private I feel like he'd cry

Lenny Summers

He'd probably panic a bit at first

Ask all these questions about how you guys are gonna be parents and if you're even ready

Once the two of you talk through it a little more he'll calm down and his nerves turn to excitement

I'm assuming y'all would be real young so he'd seek for a lot of guidance in the others

Constantly asks you questions about what you want and need

Bill Williamson

He'd be so flustered and nervous

Probably in disbelief for a while and asks if you're serious

I wouldn't blame you for thinking he's upset with the news at first

But he just needs time to process how his life's about to change!

He becomes even more gentle with you, more than he already is

Will argue with Miss Grimshaw about letting you rest/lightening your work load

And let's be real, she would lower your work load but he'd insist it stops altogether

Micah Bell

He'd be in disbelief, but bad disbelief

That or the sleaziest reaction

I'm leaning more towards sleazy reaction

Talks about how he's gonna raise the bravest kid and he's constantly gonna reference to the kid as he because I'm convinced he wants a boy

Brags to the others

Don't get me wrong the gang's happy for you but the way Micah uses it as a point of elevation is IRRITATING

Hosea Matthews

He's the cutest like seriously

He'd be sooo happy

Probably in disbelief that he even managed to get you pregnant

I believe he'd cry, and openly, he's not ashamed! He's happy!

Announces it to the whole gang, means for celebration

Takes you on dates to buy cute little baby items ahhh

Eagle Flies

HE'D FREAK THE FUCK OUT

Pace around the room asking if you're for real, contemplates his entire life, curses himself for cumming inside

You'd have to calm him down and talk him through it

It'd be a super emotional moment for the two of you, eventually he'd realize he's fine with the idea of kids and he's just nervous!

Would ask his dad and a lot of tribe members for advice

Over time he'd get way more excited and bring up the topic more often

2K notes · View notes

kayewrite · 21 days ago

Text

Leave Before You Love Me

Minho x reader!! Leeknow x reader!! genre; fluff, angst. word count:6.8k

summary; "Two hearts met at the wrong time, but maybe—just maybe—the wrong beginning could lead to the right kind of love." 💔➡️❤️ an: i think.. im back? huhu. hi guys please enjoy this fic! ill make it up to you guys ill update. i hope you like this

I was always faithful.

Faithful to my long-term girlfriend.

I loved seeing her wake up beside me.

I loved how her eyes fluttered open slowly, how her lashes brushed her cheeks, and how she smiled half-asleep the moment she saw me watching.

I loved how she giggled when she ate her ice cream, always with that little crinkle in her nose.

How her eyes lit up like fairy lights whenever I surprised her.

How she looked funny, cute, and stunningly beautiful all at once—especially when I took stolen shots of her. She hated them. But I loved them. I loved her.

I loved how her hair smelled like home.

I loved when she cooked me my favorite dish, even after a long day.

I loved how she immediately hugged the stuffed toys I gave her like they were her most prized treasures.

How she teared up when I gave her flowers like it was the first bouquet she ever received.

How she kissed me with pure joy and whispered, "I missed you," every time I came home from work trips.

How she cried and hugged me tight like I was the only one she could hold on to.

I loved her.

Her touch.

Her kisses.

Her voice.

I loved her so much that I could picture us sitting on a porch at ninety—wrinkled, slow, but still hand in hand. Kids calling us Mommy and Daddy. A lifetime of shared mornings and sleepy goodnights.

I loved her so much that I’d give her the world, without hesitation.

I was sure of it.

Really…

Really?

I love her so much…

But then… why am I feeling this way?

I love her so much—I’m confident in it.

But why, when I see her smile… does my heart flutter in a way it shouldn't?

I love my girlfriend. I do. But why do I find myself hoping that the smile of that girl with the yellow top never fades?

Why does it hurt seeing her cry silently after getting scolded by our boss, even though she tries so hard not to show it?

Why…?

Just why?

Maybe… maybe I only feel sad for her. She told me her life’s been hard. No parents. No one to go home to. Maybe I just pity her.

Yes. Maybe she just needs someone. Maybe she’s like a sister to me.

Right?

Right.

Of course.

I love my girlfriend so much that when summer break in our company starts, I’ll finally take her on that trip. I’ll kneel, open the little box, and propose like I’ve always planned. Like I should.

I was about to smash the printer when all the papers came out blank. Again.

Like seriously—why do printers break only when you're in a rush?

“Woah! Don’t do that to Mr. Grr!”

I froze, caught off guard by the familiar voice of Y/N, my co-worker.

“You call it what?” I raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused.

“Mr. Grr,” she repeated without blinking. “And you shouldn’t hit him. He gets worse when he’s scared.”

She took the paper from my hands like she was a printer whisperer, tapping the buttons gently and patting it like it was a crying baby.

“Mr. Grr, not now please. We’re all stressed. Just do your thing, okay?” she mumbled, still gently coaxing it.

I couldn’t help but stare. “Gentle parenting doesn’t work on machines,” I muttered, half-laughing.

But she didn’t even hear me—she was too focused.

“I promise! This worked last time!” She tapped it again, pressing a different combo of buttons, like she was entering a cheat code for patience.

Still… nothing. The printer continued to spit out blank sheets like a passive-aggressive ghost.

I sighed, frustrated, about to raise my fist—

—and she beat me to it.

“YOU USELESS PIECE OF—” she kicked it. Then again. And again.

I should’ve stopped her. I really should’ve.

But all I could do was laugh. Laugh like an idiot.

Because it was so her.

Unpredictable.

Passionate.

Weird.

And when the manager started walking over, already frowning, I stepped in without thinking.

I grabbed her hand gently. “Hey, hey. Calm down,” I said, still laughing.

She looked at me, cheeks flushed, eyes wide. And suddenly it was too quiet.

Too soft.

Mr. Grr, huh?

It was lunchtime.

As usual, if you’re an employed person—even if you're starving—you can’t fully enjoy your food. Your mind stays glued to deadlines and unfinished reports. Even if the food tastes good, your body just… doesn’t digest it well.

I was about to call Kim-- my girlfriends, and tell her I’d be doing overtime again because of the mountain of work. But she didn’t answer her phone. I understood. She was a virtual assistant—she had her own deadlines to fight.

I missed her.

We only saw each other twice a week now—every weekend because she works in another city.

Our apartment felt emptier without her.

I took a bite of my braised pork and lazily looked around the cafeteria. That’s when I saw something at the counter.

Her.

Y/N. Again.

Why do I keep seeing her everywhere lately?

"I'm really sorry! I tripped!"

A flustered employee bent down, trying to help wipe Y/N’s now-stained uniform.

A lot of food had splashed onto her. The floor was a mess. People were scrambling to help clean up while others just stood awkwardly watching.

But what caught me wasn’t the mess.

It was her expression.

No anger. No disgust. Not even a frustrated sigh.

She just stood there—shocked, maybe—but then took a napkin from her tray and simply said, “It’s okay.”

And smiled.

If it were me, I’d understand the employee too. Maybe they were tired. Stressed. We all have off days.

But I didn’t expect her to be that calm. Most people—especially girls with nice clothes—would’ve at least frowned or snapped.

She left her tray on the table and quietly walked away, probably heading to the nearest restroom.

I shrugged and continued eating.

She’s fine.

She can handle herself.

Everything has a solution.

Right?

I waited outside the nearest restroom.

Leaning against the wall, jacket in hand, I checked my watch.

Only five minutes left in my break.

I kept glancing toward the women’s restroom, only to awkwardly look away whenever someone came out. I must’ve looked suspicious, standing here like some confused mannequin.

Where was she?

She never came back to her seat. The food on her tray was left untouched. That’s why I brought this jacket.

Wait… what am I even doing?

What are you doing?

I blinked at the realization.

Why did I even care that she didn’t come back?

Why was I picturing her silently crying in a cubicle, trying to wash off stains that wouldn’t come out?

I turned, ready to walk away.

I’m just helping her because I’m a good guy. Yes. That’s it.

I’m concerned.

Any friend would be.

Other co-workers probably worried about her too.

So it’s fine. I’m just… thoughtful.

Stop overthinking. Not everything has to mean something.

I checked my watch again. Still waiting.

And then—finally—she came out.

Her uniform was a little damp, her hair slightly messy.

“Oh! Mr. Lee?” she blinked in surprise when she saw me. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I saw what happened earlier. Thought maybe you needed help,” I said, stumbling a bit over my words. Why was I nervous?

“Ah, yes. Haha…” she let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Thanks for the concern. I actually found a solution.”

She glanced down at her shirt.

“I washed it in the sink and stood under the hand dryer for like ten minutes. It’s not fully dry, but it’ll do.”

Of course she figured it out.

Of course she handled it herself.

“Well, that’s good,” I said, looking at the jacket in my hand. It wasn’t needed anymore.

“I guess I’ll head back to work now.”

“Okay. Thank you again,” she said, smiling.

“…Your food is cold now.”

That slipped out before I could stop it.

I turned and walked away.

“Thanks again!” she called out from behind.

We had an emergency meeting this afternoon.

It was serious. Heavy. Like we were all standing on the edge of a cliff.

The manager stood at the front, arms crossed, his usual light tone replaced by pressure. "Our company’s performance has dropped significantly this quarter,” he started. “If this keeps up, the next step is downsizing. We need ideas—concrete ones. What can we improve? Streamline? Cut back on?"

Silence.

The room was stiff. You could feel the tension in the air as everyone exchanged glances. No one wanted to speak first.

I cleared my throat and slowly raised my hand. “Well, I’ve been checking our logistics reports… and I think we’ve been spending way too much on outsourced tech services that we can actually handle in-house if we just retrain some of our own staff. It’ll cost less long-term, and we already have the talent.”

There were murmurs. A few people nodded. The manager raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That’s… a very valid point, Mr. Lee. Retraining instead of outsourcing could cut costs and boost productivity. Noted.”

I nodded and sat back down, feeling that slight burn of attention. But just before I could fully relax, I caught her eyes.

Y/N.

Sitting right across from me.

She had her pen poised over her tablet, her eyes laser-focused like she was calculating something. Then, she blinked and looked away, fixing her gaze on the monitor. Was she thinking about what I said?

The next speaker was called. I tried to listen.

Then came her name.

I thought she'd just stand up and share some points verbally like the rest of us, but to my surprise—she stood, walked to the front, and connected her tablet to the monitor.

Wait… she made a presentation? Just like that? How?

And then she started talking.

She outlined all the ideas discussed—mine included—but added layers to them. More logic. More context. She tied them together into a cohesive plan, all while speaking with such quiet confidence that even our manager stopped frowning.

I’d known she was smart.

But I didn’t know she was… this.

Maybe I never really paid enough attention.

But now I couldn’t stop.

After the meeting, everyone looked… lighter. Like that tight knot in our throats had finally been untangled. We’d done something good. Maybe, just maybe, we bought the company some time.

I packed my things and sent Kim a quick message:

“Finished work early tonight. Hope you’re doing okay. Get some rest.”

Then I joined the others by the elevator.

"You wanna come with us, Mr. Lee?" Chan asked. “We’re going for a drink—just to celebrate not crashing and burning today.”

“Maybe next time,” I smiled politely. “I just wanna sleep right now.”

"Can I go with you guys?"

We turned around.

It was her.

Y/N. Still full of life, like she hadn’t just gone through a draining day.

“Of course, come on,” said Mr. Han cheerfully.

I sighed quietly. I really didn’t want to go. I hated hangovers.

“You should join us, Mr. Lee,” she said, turning to me with a small smile. “Little wins should still be celebrated.”

“He’s tired,” Chan answered for me, smiling knowingly.

I don’t know how I ended up here.

A round table filled with hot soup, sizzling grilled meat, and coworkers laughing too loud. Juniors passed around shot glasses like it was tradition. Someone cranked up a K-pop song in the background.

Maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt.

But this girl beside me?

She clearly didn’t stop at just one.

“Stop drinking already!” Jisung nudged Y/N’s glass away.

“What are you, my boyfriend?” she slurred, laughing as she tried to pour herself another shot. “Why would I listen to youuu?”

“Because we’re concerned! Jeez!”

The others laughed, shaking their heads.

I looked at her.

Cheeks flushed. Hair a little messy from moving too much. Eyes gleaming under the dim lights.

She was loud and chaotic and real.

The kind of person you couldn’t ignore, even when you tried.

Then she turned to me.

"You were cool today, Mr. Lee," she said casually, almost like it didn’t mean much.

But her eyes were warm. Steady. "Like… really. The way you spoke earlier during the meeting? I don’t know, it was… I guess I never really noticed how sharp you are when you’re focused."

I blinked.

I’ve heard compliments before. I know I do my job well. I’ve been praised by higher-ups. Kim always tells me I’m smart and capable.

But for some reason… Hearing it from her felt different.

It didn’t just land in my ears. It hit me.

Right in the middle of my chest.

Like something warm I wasn’t ready to feel.

I looked away for a second.

And I smiled. Softly.

“…Thanks,” I said.

And in that exact moment…

I felt something I shouldn't.

Morning came. I arrived at the office earlier than usual. My coworkers trickled in looking like zombies—sleep-deprived and dragging themselves through the door like they had no choice but to exist. Which, honestly, they didn’t.

I buried myself in emails and paperwork, trying to focus, when the door opened.

Y/N walked in.

Late.

Not drastically, but still late.

…Wait. I noticed that?

She looked wrecked. Probably from last night—Mr. Han had to make sure she got home safely because she drank way too much. Her face said it all: puffy eyes, tired gaze, the kind of look that screams “please not today.”

I almost chuckled to myself.

Days passed. Life moved. Work piled up. But lately—no matter how much I buried myself in tasks—I noticed something else piling up too.

My awareness of her.

I caught myself glancing whenever she shifted in her seat, whenever she stood up to make coffee, even when she went to the balcony just to breathe. It's not like I was trying to notice her—it just happened. Like some involuntary reflex I couldn’t control.

And the way I looked at her…

It reminded me of how I used to look at my girlfriend. Back when everything between us was fresh. Back when just watching her do nothing felt like a privilege.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I needed to fix myself.

Maybe a strong, bitter coffee would snap me out of it.

I stood up and headed to the pantry.

“Make me one too, please,” Mr. Chan said as I passed by.

I nodded, barely listening.

I mean—Y/N is beautiful. But so are a lot of people here. And it never bothered me before.

This… this was different. And I hated that I couldn’t explain why.

I needed Kim.

She always made things feel clear.

I pulled out my phone and called her.

“Hello, babe?”

Her voice was soft and familiar. I instantly smiled. Just hearing her calmed the noise in my head.

We talked for a short while. She told me about her day, reminded me to rest, and said she missed me. I wanted to say more—but I kept it short. I felt… guilty. For reasons I couldn’t even explain.

Like I had done something wrong even though I hadn’t.

Like I was standing too close to a line I didn’t intend to cross.

What am I even doing?

Maybe I was just stressed.

Work can twist your thoughts, right?

When we ended the call, I stood there, hand on the coffee machine, zoned out completely. The machine beeped.

“Your coffee’s ready.”

I blinked.

Right. Mr. Chan’s coffee.

“Is that for Mr. Chan?” a voice said beside me.

I turned. Of course, it was her.

Y/N.

I gave a small nod, pretending I didn’t care. Pretending I didn’t notice her hair still a little messy or how tired she looked but still managed to smile.

“Well, guess I won’t make him one anymore,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Took you too long.”

I almost smiled. That impatient dumb.

“I think I’ll go now,” I said flatly, picking up the cup.

“Wait—can I ask you something?” she said, stopping me.

I paused.

“I know this is probably dumb,” she continued, shifting awkwardly, “but… the boss just called me into his office. He wants me to attend a seminar in the next city. He said I could bring someone along. I know you’ll probably say no but… still. I wanted to ask anyway.”

I stared at her.

I should say no.

I should tell her to ask Mr. Chan instead.

But that city… it’s where Kim is.

Maybe I could visit her too.

“…I’ll think about it.”

Lie.

I wouldn’t.

The office was quiet. Too quiet, actually. The only sound that filled the space was the rhythmic tapping of keyboards and the occasional sigh from someone trying not to lose their mind.

Everyone was buried in deadlines. Eyes glued to screens. Coffee mugs half full—or half empty, depending on how their day was going.

I was deep into my task… until I hit a wall.

Of course I would. Because the next step of my work relied on Y/N’s output. Her report. Her data.

I leaned back in my chair and let out a quiet breath.

Why does it have to be her part that I need?

I stood up and walked over to her cubicle. She looked focused, her pen tapping against the desk while her eyes darted between tabs.

“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She turned and blinked. “Oh—yes?”

“I’m stuck. I need your report to move forward with mine.”

“Oh shoot—yes, I just finished the outline but not the graphs. Wait, I’ll show you.” She shuffled to the side and gestured to the seat next to her.

I sat down beside her, leaning slightly to see her monitor. She clicked through a few windows, and as I leaned closer, a soft scent hit me.

Her shampoo.

It smelled like something floral. Clean. Calming. Not too strong, but… noticeable.

I almost forgot what I came here for.

Focus. Work. You’re here for work.

She pulled up a chart. “See, I just need to match these values to the quarterly format, but it’s already linked to your file. I didn’t want to mess with your part.”

“We can fix it together,” I said, pointing to a row. “If you duplicate this logic and apply it here—”

She finished the thought with a click. “—then it connects to your formula. Got it.”

I looked at her. “You’re quick.”

She smiled. “You’re easy to work with.”

…Great. Now my brain had officially melted.

Later, during lunch.

I sat alone at my usual spot in the cafeteria, pushing the food around my plate again like a child who didn’t want to eat vegetables. The rice was warm, the meat was tender—but my appetite was missing.

Again.

I picked up my fork and forced a bite. It tasted fine. Just fine.

I sighed, glancing toward the counter where employees lined up for food.

That’s when I saw her.

Y/N.

She was laughing softly with someone.

Standing beside her was Seungmin, the new junior hire. Fresh-faced, eager, and frankly too charming for his own good.

She was assigned to guide him. Of course. Introduce him around, help him settle in. Probably explain all the chaotic systems we never bothered to document.

Still… watching her there—standing next to someone else, someone younger, someone smiling back at her like he had all the time in the world—something twisted in my chest.

Why does it feel like this?

Like something dull and uninvited had made its home just beneath my ribs.

They grabbed their trays and found a seat together.

She’s just doing her job, I reminded myself.

Still… it didn’t stop the way my appetite completely vanished.

I found myself back at the printer again.

Same spot. Same machine.

This time, I was hoping it wouldn’t decide to ruin my life the moment I needed it most. I pressed the buttons, fed the documents, and braced myself for the worst—

Whirrrrr. Print. Slide. Whirrr. Print.

Huh.

The papers slid out smoothly, one by one, like the machine suddenly decided to be a good citizen of the office world. No jams. No blinking red lights. No threatening to catch fire.

Just… printing. Like a normal, well-behaved machine.

I blinked at it.

“Wow,” I muttered, genuinely impressed. “You work now?”

I waited for the last page to drop into the tray, then reached out and gave the side of the printer a light pat.

“Good job, Mr. Grr.”

I didn’t even realize I said it until the words left my mouth. I paused, lips pressing into a line.

Mr. Grr.

That nickname.

The memory flashed in my mind: Y/N tapping the printer, whispering to it like a child calming down a tantrum. That stubborn look in her eyes. Her laugh when it still refused to work. The way she lost it and kicked it before the manager almost scolded her.

That day was chaotic.

I smirked a little to myself and shook my head.

“Don’t get used to the compliments,” I muttered to the printer. “You still suck 99% of the time.”

But I picked up my papers with less frustration than usual.

Maybe Mr. Grr just needed a little belief. Or maybe he worked better when he remembered her hands tapping gently on his side.

Or maybe I was just too tired and giving personality to a piece of plastic.

Either way, I walked back to my desk—printer papers in hand, and a tiny smile on my face I didn’t bother explaining.

I was already halfway back to my desk, papers in hand, when I heard a voice behind me:

“Did you just say Mr. Grr?”

I froze.

That voice.

I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

I slowly glanced over my shoulder.

Y/N was standing near the printer, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised and the most obnoxiously smug smile playing on her lips.

She heard me.

“I—I didn’t,” I said, too fast. Way too fast. “You’re hearing things.”

She walked closer, casually leaned against the desk beside mine, and tilted her head. “So now I’m hallucinating nicknames for printers?”

“I mean… maybe you’re just stressed.”

“You patted it.” She pointed at my hand. “Like it was a living, breathing thing.”

“I was—thanking it. That’s different.”

“Ohhh, thanking Mr. Grr, huh?” she grinned, clearly enjoying this too much. “Interesting. I thought you said gentle parenting never works here?”

I groaned and rubbed my face, trying to hide the fact that I was smiling. “Are you seriously going to bring that back?”

“Are you seriously calling the printer the same name you laughed at me for?”

“…Okay. Fine. Maybe I said it. Once. Out of instinct. Happy?”

She chuckled, and for some reason that little sound made my chest tighten slightly.

“You’re lucky Mr. Grr worked this time,” she said, walking past me. “Or else I would’ve kicked him again. With heels.”

“I think that’s why he listened,” I called after her, watching her head shake as she laughed on her way back to her cubicle.

My smirk lingered even after she disappeared from view.

Mr. Grr, huh.

Guess the name’s grown on me, too.

It’s been three days since I last got a full reply from Kim. I tried messaging her again this morning, but it was left on read. She’s probably busy. I mean, she is a virtual assistant—always juggling clients and shifting schedules. That’s what I keep telling myself.

So I didn’t mind it.

Or at least… I tried not to.

I didn’t tell her I’d be in her city next week either. Thought it’d be a nice surprise. Maybe it would fix whatever this strange distance is between us. I already agreed to join the seminar anyway. I told myself it was the perfect opportunity—to support the company, and at the same time… see her. Just like old times.

The office was quiet again—our usual afternoon rhythm. Everyone was focused, typing intensely on their keyboards. The silence was only interrupted by the occasional mouse click or cough from across the room.

I was reviewing a document and preparing it for submission when I got stuck again. I needed a set of numbers from Y/N’s report—the final piece before I could send mine out. I sighed and stood from my chair, walking over to her cubicle.

She was typing quickly, brows slightly furrowed. “Hey,” I said, leaning down a bit to peek at her screen.

That’s when I smelled her shampoo. Clean. Subtle. Like freshly cut apples and a little vanilla.

Focus.

She glanced at me and blinked, “Oh, you need the numbers from this morning, right?”

I nodded, and without hesitation, she scooted slightly to the side and tilted her monitor toward me. We went through the spreadsheet together—quietly, efficiently—and before I knew it, we finished the task faster than I expected. We made a good team.

Again.

Back in the office, I forced myself to focus on my screen when I heard it.

The manager’s voice, louder than usual, cutting through the quiet.

“Mr. Seungmin! This file was not supposed to be sent out like this! Did you even review it?”

Everyone subtly turned their heads, pretending to work but clearly listening.

Y/N stood up without hesitation.

“Sir, I asked him to handle that. I should’ve reviewed it before submission—it was a misstep on both ends.”

Her voice was firm. Steady.

She then looked at Seungmin and gently patted his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’ll get better. Just keep learning.”

He thanked her quietly, head low.

And I?

I clenched my jaw.

He did mess up. He’s done it several times. Why is no one pointing that out?

But before I could say anything, she spoke again, as if she already anticipated what I was thinking.

“He’s still new,” she added. “Everyone needs someone to believe in them when they’re starting out.”

She didn’t say it with pride.

She said it with warmth.

I sat back in my chair and stared at my screen.

For some reason, her words echoed louder than they should have.

The seminar hall was packed with professionals from different firms, all seated neatly in rows, facing the wide stage. I adjusted my blazer and took my seat near the aisle, glancing around casually until—

My heart skipped.

There she was.

Y/N, walking in.

Wearing a dress that flowed just past her knees, simple but elegant. It wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t loud—but it was her. And somehow, it caught me off guard. She’s always been beautiful, I’ve always known that… but this—this felt different.

New.

She caught my gaze and smiled briefly before taking the seat beside me. We said nothing at first, just a quiet exchange of breath and glances as the opening remarks began.

Throughout the seminar, we sat side by side, listening, nodding, jotting things down on our pads. Every now and then, she leaned a little closer to whisper something about the speaker, or a slide that flashed too fast. I responded with a smirk or a soft reply, careful not to let my voice carry. We weren't even saying anything important. But the way her shoulder brushed mine every time she leaned in—it was enough to keep my thoughts distracted.

Too distracted.

—

It was already dusk when the seminar ended. The crowd slowly spilled out of the building, some chatting, others already planning their evening dinners.

Y/N and I stepped outside. The air was humid, and she was quiet beside me. I noticed her slowing down.

“Hey,” I asked, concerned. “You okay?”

She stopped walking. “I just… got a little dizzy. Maybe the room was too stuffy.”

Without hesitation, I steadied her arm. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

She didn’t argue.

I walked beside her, steady and slow, keeping a hand just behind her back, just in case. She leaned on me slightly—not too much, just enough to make me feel the weight of her trust. My mind ran faster than my footsteps.

I didn’t plan for this.

I didn’t expect this.

We reached the hotel entrance, and I guided her through the lobby, toward the elevator. She looked pale, but she still tried to smile. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I said, firmer than I meant to.

The elevator dinged. We stepped in.

Just a few more steps to her room.

But just as we rounded the corner of her hallway—

“…Babe?”

I froze.

That voice.

I turned around, and there she was.

Kim.

Standing a few doors down, her arms holding a coffee tray and some files, clearly not expecting to see this.

She looked at me.

Then at Y/N.

Then at the way I was holding Y/N’s arm gently, protectively.

Silence.

Too long of a silence.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Y/N stood up a little straighter, her hand subtly slipping away from mine.

And just like that—

The hallway felt heavier than any seminar room we had just left.

“Kim—wait!” I called out, but her figure had already turned the corner.

She was running.

And so I did too.

“Kim, please, it’s not what you think! I swear!” My voice echoed down the hallway.

But she didn’t stop.

She didn’t even turn back.

I chased after her out of instinct, out of desperation, but I never caught up. She was gone before I could explain… before I could even process how everything flipped in seconds.

I stood outside the hotel alone, breath uneven. All I could do was whisper a weak, “I’m sorry,” to the night air. But no one heard it. Not even her.

That night, I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t.

I stared at the ceiling of my room, tossing and turning, hearing the echo of her footsteps in my head, the way her eyes clouded with hurt, the disbelief on her face. I told myself over and over again that it didn’t mean anything. That what I felt for Y/N was just—just confusion. Work stress. Proximity. Something meaningless.

And if it wasn’t meaningless?

It should be.

I have a girlfriend.

Or at least—I did.

I had to make things right.

Morning came heavy and unforgiving. My body wanted to shut down, but my mind was already set. When the rest of the team checked out and headed back to the office, I stayed behind.

I told them I had something personal to handle.

And I did.

I passed by a flower shop on the way. I picked out her favorite roses—white with soft pink edges, the kind she once mentioned liking when we passed by a garden, back when things were still simple.

I held them tightly, determined, as I approached her apartment building.

Maybe she wouldn’t forgive me right away. Maybe she’d shout, or cry, or not even open the door.

But I had to try.

I just wanted her to know I chose her.

I reached her door—and it was already slightly open.

“Kim?” I called gently, pushing it a bit.

What I saw stopped me in place.

She was there. —with someone else.

My friend.

And before they even noticed me standing frozen at the door, I heard their voices—clearly, painfully.

“Yes… I saw him cheating on me!” Kim said, her voice breaking.

“But you cheated too,” the man said, his hand on her back. “You’re both just… cheating with different people.”

Kim covered her face and sobbed. “I don’t know… I just—It hurts. I know I’ll hurt him if he ever sees me like this. But it also hurt me so much… to see him with her.”

“Then why did you do this?” he asked softly.

Kim was quiet. Then, almost whispering:

“Because he never had time for me. I have needs too, you know…”

And just like that, she leaned forward and kissed him.

That was the moment she finally saw me.

She pulled away from the kiss and froze. Her eyes widened in horror.

I was just standing there—roses still in my hand, heart now shattered on the floor.

I didn’t say a word. Couldn’t.

Because yes, maybe I cheated… mentally. Maybe thinking about Y/N too often was already a betrayal. But I fought it. I tried. I stayed. I loved Kim through all the chaos in my mind.

I didn’t cross that line.

But what I just witnessed… was different.

That wasn’t a feeling.

That was a choice.

I didn’t even know when my legs started moving. Only that they did. I turned, and I ran.

Ran from the sight. Ran from the pain. Ran from everything.

A few days passed. Kim’s messages came in like small aftershocks. At first, there were questions. Then, accusations. Then silence.

Until the last one finally came:

“Fine! I cheated! I’m tired of fixing this relationship.”

I stared at the screen for a long time.

I waited for more. For something softer to follow. But nothing came.

She gave up. Just like that.

Maybe she was already tired way before I realized it. Or maybe I just gave her too many reasons to be.

But me? I didn’t stop.

I worked nonstop.

Didn’t even notice how many hours passed—didn’t care either. I skipped breaks. Skipped meals. Skipped feeling.

Maybe that’s what a broken heart does. It doesn’t scream, it doesn’t cry. It just… turns you quiet.

Colleagues were starting to worry. I’d hear them whisper sometimes.

“He’s still here?” “It’s almost 10PM…” “Did he even eat lunch?”

But I just kept working. It was easier. Easier to drown in reports and deadlines than to sit with my thoughts. Easier to feel the weight of stress than the weight of what I lost.

So I stayed late. Again. And again. Sometimes, I’d be the last one to turn off the office lights. Sometimes, I wished I didn’t have to turn them off at all.

I guess this is what pain and guilt does—it doesn’t always hurt like knives… sometimes it numbs you so deeply, even exhaustion loses its meaning.

I was tired.

But even that… I couldn’t feel anymore.

I was just here.

Working.

Breathing.

Trying.

Because if I stopped… if I slowed down for even one second, I knew I’d remember everything.

And I wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.

One morning, as I scrolled through a dull chain of emails, a cup of coffee slid silently across my table.

I looked up.

Y/N.

She gave me a soft smile, hesitant, almost like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to still be kind to me.

“Thanks,” I said, voice quieter than I intended.

She nodded and walked away.

I needed air. The kind that didn’t taste like burnt coffee and broken expectations.

I went to the office balcony.

The cold breeze slapped my face—finally, something I could feel.

“Hey,” a voice spoke gently from behind.

Y/N.

She stood beside me, eyes searching mine.

“I… I feel guilty,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I hadn’t gotten dizzy that day… if I hadn’t needed your help, maybe you two wouldn’t have…”

Her voice trailed off.

I exhaled. “It’s okay.”

I didn’t say more.

Because how do you say, “It’s okay because I found out she was already sleeping with someone else”?

“I messaged her,” she added, voice trembling. “Tried to explain that it wasn’t what she thought. That you were just helping me… but she blocked me.”

Of course she did. Why would Kim want truth now?

“I’ll go talk to her,” Y/N insisted, eyes pleading. “She has to know. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll make her understand.”

“Don’t,” I said, finally turning to look at her.

Her brows furrowed. “Why not?”

I stared at the horizon.

“Because there’s nothing left to save.”

Her lips parted, confused. “What do you mean?”

I forced a breath. The truth sat like a stone in my throat. Heavy. Sharp.

“She cheated,” I said. “And not just with anyone. With my friend. And I also did..”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “No… no, you didn’t—”

“We did.” My voice was calm. Too calm. That kind of numb calm that only happens when you’ve run out of tears.

She didn’t say anything.

So I added, “And the worst part is… I don’t know which one of us started cheating first.”

Her voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

I finally looked her in the eye.

“You asked who I cheated with,” I said quietly. “And the truth is… I didn’t. Not with my body. But…”

I paused. Looked away again. Swallowed hard.

“I cheated with my heart.”

The breeze was suddenly colder.

“I cheated every time I looked at you and forgot what love was supposed to feel like with someone else. Every time I laughed at your jokes. Every time I noticed your perfume. Every time I stayed a little longer in your orbit because it felt… lighter.”

A long silence. Her breath hitched.

“What I felt for you,” I said, voice breaking, “was real. But it was wrong.”

Y/N stayed still. I didn’t expect her to speak. But she did.

“I think…” she began slowly, “this really was my fault.”

I turned to her.

“Because I fell for you too,” she whispered, her voice raw and shaking. “The man I knew could never be mine… because he already belonged to someone else.”

And there we were.

Two people standing still, with too many feelings and nowhere to put them.

Not together.

Not apart.

Just suspended in the heartbreak.

Y/N didn’t speak right away.

But when she finally did, her voice carried the weight of everything she’d kept in.

“I tried to impress you, you know?” she said, looking down at her fingers as they fidgeted. “Back when we had that emergency meeting, I was saying things I barely even understood—just hoping you’d notice me.”

I blinked, surprised.

She smiled faintly. “And that night I got drunk? I was so embarrassed… but a part of me was glad you saw me that way. Not perfect. Not composed. Just… me. That girl who liked you so much, she said things she shouldn’t.”

I didn’t interrupt. Just listened.

“I stared at you when you were working,” she confessed, cheeks turning a little red. “Not just once. A lot. Maybe too much. And when you got stuck in the printing room—Mr. Grr,” she added with a soft laugh, “I knew you were stressed. I wanted to help… even if it was just with a jammed printer.”

I chuckled lightly. “Mr. Grr did finally behave.”

“And when you came to my desk asking for my part,” she said, her smile turning gentler, “I liked those moments. I liked that you needed me, even if it was just for work. I liked seeing you up close.”

She paused for a breath.

“When you said yes to the seminar, I couldn’t even hide how happy I was. I know it was wrong. To want you like that. To hope for something when you had someone already. But… I liked you too much, Mr. Lee. And being wrong? It just… faded.”

She looked up at me, guilt shimmering in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded slowly. “It’s okay.”

Because it was.

Not because we were blameless—but because I understood now.

“It was the mentality,” I said. “If I was really faithful, nothing would’ve swayed me. But I let myself fall… fast. Too fast. That’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

We both laughed softly.

“Who even says sorry to who first in this situation?” she asked, eyes glinting through the sadness.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “But here we are.”

Two hearts, sitting with the wreckage of what they felt.

Two people who didn’t mean to break anything.

But did.

She took a deep breath. “I guess feelings really can’t be stopped, huh?”

“No,” I said quietly. “But they can be understood.”

She nodded. “I know we started… the wrong way.”

I looked at her. “Yeah. But if—if we were given a chance someday… maybe we could start right.”

A silence hung between us.

Hopeful. Gentle.

“But not now,” I added.

She nodded again. “Not now.”

Because right now…

We need to work.

We need to heal.

We need to grow separately from the mess we made together.

We exchanged one last look—neither heavy nor forced. Just something real. Something honest.

She smiled faintly and turned to walk back inside the office.

And I followed.

Because even if the heart aches, life goes on.

—The End.

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libraincarnate · 2 years ago

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🦋 astrology notes: 14 🦋

quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some of my observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences. with that being said, i'm still learning along the way & i may come back to edit this post to make corrections. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!

ꕤ venus-mars aspects: people with this aspect may feel good/beautiful when moving their body. they could really enjoy sex, stretching, exercising, playing sports, dancing, etc. could be into getting massages, doing their skin/hair care routine, eating healthy & more cause overall, they’re taking care of their body/themselves and they’re into that. there’s a desire to connect with their body and actually listen to what it wants and/or needs. they want to feel good and look good & they probably have a nice body too.

ꕤ neptune-uranus aspects: can indicate a wild sleeper. the type to shift the blankets from one end of the bed to the other, waking up with their pillow in weird positions or they themselves are hanging off the side of the bed. could accidentally hit people while they’re asleep if they share a bed with someone. may have strange dreams, possibly spiritual/prophetic ones too.

ꕤ libra venus: they want an equal relationship with equal effort. if they have kids with someone, they expect that person to be as involved as they are when it comes to parenting. it's a partnership so no one should be doing more than the other, it should be *balanced*. they absolutely know how to make a person feel loved, adored, and appreciated. they can be quite lovey-dovey & they also want to be doted on too. they want someone who makes them feel comfortable enough to not have to look or act perfect all the time. they want their partner to see their beauty on the outside & the inside too. even if it's not fun to admit, they know they’re not truly perfect and they want someone who will accept the parts of them that aren’t beautiful, the parts they're insecure of. yes they love compliments but genuine ones from their lover that aren’t always about their appearance are meaningful and cherished.

these people are so caring. this is a sweetheart placement. with that being said they expect their partner to be nice to them 98% of the time. this doesn’t mean you can’t tease them or make jokes, but just don’t overdo it or be rude. so this doesn’t necessarily mean that they want an extremely nice or gentle bf/gf, but rather someone who’s never truly mean to them and shows them the same amount of love, respct, & consideration.

ꕤ virgo lilith/rising/venus & lilith in the 2nd house: may feel ugly or uncomfortable wearing heavy makeup. they’re so used to being natural that they feel as if they look too different wearing lots of makeup or even a little. could feel as though it emphasizes their features in a way that they don’t like because it comes off too strong. they’re just used to & prefer that natural look, but they may prefer light/subtle makeup, like that “no makeup” makeup look.

ꕤ if you feel like you don’t relate to certain placements in your natal chart, check the persona chart of that planet and look for that same planet within that persona chart. you may find that you can relate to it a bit more or it can reveal something else about that part of you/your life, maybe help you connect the dots.

for example, if you feel like your venus placement in your natal chart doesn’t really apply to you, check your venus placement in your venus persona chart. or if it’s your moon then look for the placement of the moon in your moon persona chart.

ꕤ the placement of sagittarius in your chart can show you where you might be afraid to commit:

in the 4th house - could be afraid to start a family of your own because of how much your children/family would depend on you and because of how much you’d be responsible for another person.

in the 7th house - could be afraid to commit to long term relationships that may lead to marriage because you view it as something spiritually and/or legally binding (to an extent), and the idea of that sounds restrictive or "too permanent" & daunting, even if you're in love, so you may self-sabotage. your lack of commitment here might also be because you don't feel comfortable trusting others/being vulnerable. plus, sag is an honest sign that cares about integrity so if they make a vow they won't want to dishonor it. but then there's the possibilty/fear of being trapped in a miserable or lifeless marriage, or being unable to leave without conflict or upsetting consequences.

in the 6th house - could run from your daily responsibilities/routine if it lacks variety. can be afraid to commit to jobs that may have the potential to become mundane & monotonous, jobs that don't have many opportunities or room for growth and advancement.

ꕤ saturn in the 9th house: may not enjoy going to church, if you we’re born into a religious family this could have been an issue for you, perhaps you have a religious father that is strict and religion may have been a persistent theme that brought about conflict.

ꕤ aries moon: when they’re pissed off you’ll know because they’ll express it verbally and/or physically (this doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll put their hands on you). out of all the different emotions, they probably feel anger the strongest. they’re not the type to hide their emotions like capricorn moons and that’s probably because they usually can’t no matter how much they want to or try to.

they are direct & unafraid of confrontation, but if they tell you that you hurt them then they care about you because that’s not something they’ll easily and openly admit. they’re loyal so they take it to heart when someone they love/trust wrongs them. if that person doesn’t have a good reason then they’re most likely cut off because aries now sees them as disloyal & untrustworthy.

aries likes to be in control, but with the moon here they can struggle to have control over their emotions because they feel things so forecully, not being in control only makes them more irritated, and they can be quite irritable.

ꕤ sun in the 7th house (synastry): it can create such a strong bond that it feels like they are your soulmate. it could be hard to separate from each other because it feels like you guys are meant to be. they’re someone you want to share your life with. life is better with them. things can feel gloomy when there are problems between you two or when they’re not around & so this can also be a clingy placement. but that’s probably because they make you feel warm, safe, and overall they’re just one of your favorite people.

ꕤ leo mercury / leo in the 3rd house: they’re quite descriptive & they incorporate lots of figurative language in their everyday speech whether it be personification, exaggeration, or similes/metaphors. with that being said they can be funny and make good story tellers. they draw people in with the way they speak and keep them interested. could be good at voice acting and imitating the voice of another such as singers or actors. these individuals have some bright ideas & they could probably write great books too.

ꕤ lilith in the 6th house: i’ve mentioned that taurus in the 6th house can have messy traits but lilith in the 6th house takes the cake imo. like they can be straight up dirty, sorry not sorry. the types to not clean up after themselves. they’re not afraid to get their hands dirty and i mean that literally. like no gloves needed ever lol & then they’ll “clean” their hands by running it under water for 2 seconds. also the types to not follow the rules or the steps of doing something. they do things their way or in a way that’s uncommon/different but they can also remain calm and focused in chaotic & unorganized environments.

ꕤ sun in the 4th: these people would make really good house wives or stay at home moms. they’re just good at being domestic and naturally good at running a household. they’re the glue to the family. i know the 4th house isn’t related to marriage/romantic relationships but to me, women with this placement exude the traits of the perfect/noble wife described in Proverbs 31:10-31.

or if a guy has a capricorn sun here for example, he may be an absolute family man. someone reliable and a true provider who is dedicated, involved, and loyal to his family.

overall these people can be very family-oriented.

ꕤ chiron in the 5th house: you have a bold/bright personality that makes you stand out. when you’re expressing yourself or simply being yourself, you might get negative reactions and unkind comments from others which causes you to shrink back and hide that awesome personality of yours. you feel insecure about being yourself & so you may also have self-esteem issues. but that confidence is definitely within you, it's innate.

those reactions/comments probably come from people who are unhappy, not comfortable with themselves, or they're jealous & they wish could get the attention that you receive without trying. but that’s not your fault so keep being you!

these natives could also be the type to come off as quiet/shy but they aren’t. they’re actually fun, creative, talented, and a joy to be around, but they struggle to see that for themselves.

ꕤ gemini or pisces rising / in the 1st house - especially if you also have a gemini/pisces moon or your chart ruler (mercury/neptune) is in the 5th house of fun, games/toys, & creativity:

* this is so long i'm so sorry *

i feel like these natives had lots of dolls, toys, and/or stuffed animals growing up. they probably always had at least one throughout their life and they still do even if they’re now older, mature, or no longer play with them because gem and pisces both have this playful, fun, & childlike energy.

the rising & 1st house is heavily focused on how you project/express yourself and who you are, both your inner & outer self. so regardless of age or maturity, these traits typically remain present in gem/pisces because it’s just a big part of their identity. & the moon is how we experience, process, and express our emotions. so for some, it becomes less of a toy and more of a sentimental item, something they’re emotionally attached to.

with gemini & pisces, it’s like they are here but they’re not lol they’re physically present but mentally elsewhere in some other world of their own. they’re the types to entertain themselves in their minds.

gem is ruled by mercury so they’re always in their head talking to themselves, thinking of anything & everything whether it be funny, brilliant, bizarre, or ingenious. they get lost in their thoughts. but we do the same with toys, we talk to them as if they were real or could respond, we create these conversations and social interactions, we give them a voice, “making” them say the most silly, funny, and crazy things.

pisces is ruled by neptune and so they’re creative and always in their head day dreaming of different scenarios, people/characters, and possibilities. they get lost in their imagination. and with toys, we become both actors & directors, assigning different roles/characters to different dolls and stuffed animals, but also to ourselves. we set the scene, dress them up, do their makeup, and “make” them act out whatever we imagine.

& when you think about dolls/toys/stuffed animals and the way that they’re typically played with, you think of personification or a sense of bringing to life/animation, imagination, children, entertainment, pretending, creativity, etc. plus, the whole concept is kind of bizarre if you think about it lol

this made me look up barbie’s chart because she’s one of the most popular dolls/toys and it’s so funny how she’s a gemini rising & pisces sun/moon.

if you read this until the end, i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

#astrology #astro notes #astrology notes #astro observations #astrology observations #libraincarnate

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year ago

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Sneaking Around

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and Spencer are keeping a relationship a secret from your brother, Derek

Square Filled: "don't you touch her." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You don’t ever want to leave this bed. It feels too damn good to want to start your day. Spencer has been up for a while just watching you sleep. He likes to see your eyes flit back and forth underneath your eyelids as he wonders what you might be dreaming about. Where do you go when you fall asleep? Based on the smile on your face, your dream is about him.

“Darling. Wake up,” Spencer whispers and nudges his nose with yours.

You scrunch up your nose in the way he loves, the way that makes you look like a squirrel, and you open your eyes slightly. He waits until he sees your bright eyes before kissing the tip of your nose. There you go again with the cute nose scrunch.

“Why did you wake me? I was having a great dream,” you sigh happily.

“Was it about me?”

“When is it never about you?”

“Tell me what it was about.”

You yawn and move away to get a better look at him.

“Well, I was on this boat and it wasn’t a cruise ship-type boat but like a sailboat. You know, the one Rossi lets us use sometimes. We were in the middle of nowhere but we didn’t feel lost or felt scared. We felt content. I decided to go swimming so I jumped into the water, but then I grew a mermaid tail and you were so jealous because I swam faster than you. You jumped into the water to see if you could grow a tail but couldn’t. So, I decided to take you to my underwater world where we had fish children and ate kelp all the time.”

“Sounds adventurous,” Spencer laughs.

“It was weird,” you giggle.

“So, while you were snoring,” you push Spencer away playfully, “I was thinking maybe we can go up to your parents’ cabin this weekend.”

“That sounds ama—wait,” you sigh, “we can’t. Derek is having his friends over. He’s taking the weekend to do whatever it is they plan on doing. The last thing I need is to be caught by him.”

It’s not that Derek doesn’t approve of your relationship with Spencer, it’s just he’s so protective over you. You have nothing to do with the police or the FBI, and he doesn’t want you getting mixed up in that life. It’s bad enough he’s in it, he doesn’t want to add another person you could possibly lose. He’s only looking out for you, and you understand that, but you fell in love with Spencer the second he introduced you two.

You two have been seeing each other behind his back, and it’s been working out so far.

“Maybe we can rent a hotel room, then. I really want to go away with you for the weekend.”

“I’d like that,” you grin.

You lean over and kiss him, but the kiss is anything but short and sweet. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your head spin. The kind of kiss that makes you want to do very bad things with him. The kind of kiss that makes you fall in love with him all over again. The kiss gets heated very quickly and he pulls you onto his lap so you can feel how hard you’re making him.

Suddenly, the front door slams open and your brother can be heard laughing downstairs.

“Reid! You here?”

“Shit,” you gasp.

You scramble off Spencer and fall off the bed toward the window. Spencer laughs at your panic just as you crawl underneath his bed. Seconds later, Derek opens Spencer’s bedroom door, and you cover your mouth to keep quiet. Spencer doesn’t mind that Derek barges in whenever he wants. With him are Matt and Luke, and the latter smirks at the flushed look on Spencer’s face.

“Why is Y/N’s car here?”

“She dropped it off here,” Spencer thinks quickly. “She took an Uber to hang out with the girls. She didn’t want to drive, and it was cheaper to get one from here than her house.”

Luke looks around the room and sees your toes underneath the bed. He smirks but doesn’t comment on it.

“When she gets back, she can sleep in the guest room.”

“No problem,” Spencer shrugs.

“Don’t you touch her,” Derek points at him.

“I won’t. Why did you come here? Not that I don’t love your company.”

Spencer doesn’t want to get up because then they’ll see the boner he has.

“We’re going to a baseball game. Want to come?”

“No, thank you. I have a bunch of books to get through.”

“I can wait ten minutes,” Derek laughs.

“Maybe next time.”

“Alright. Let me know when she gets home safe.”

“Sure thing.”

The three men leave the room and Spencer busts out laughing at the situation.

“Shut up,” you glare and hit the underside of his bed. You crawl out from underneath it when you know it’s safe to do so. You kneel on the bed and kiss him lovingly. “Derek may be my brother, but he’s not the boss of me. I love you with all my heart, but I better go before he sees me.”

“We gotta tell him soon.”

“I know but sneaking around with you is so much fun,” you wink.

Instead of leaving through the bedroom door like a normal person, you sneak out of the window where there is a tree that slopes down, giving you the perfect escape route. Spencer watches you go with a chuckle, glad that someone like you is in his life.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fictino #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

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t4kalcvr · 26 days ago

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WHERE THE WAVES BREAK

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀 word count :: ( 11,019 ) genre :: fluffyyy, angsty, && romance content contains :: deceased parents, drowning, surfing, fights mentioned, arguments, and more stuff!! part one right here !!

₍^. .^₎⟆

the kitchen lights were dim — just the under-cabinet ones humming quietly above the sink. the rest of the house was asleep, even the air felt still, but you stood there barefoot in your oversized tee and pajama shorts, fishing a bag of mini marshmallows from the highest cabinet like it was some sort of treasure hunt.

behind you, haruka dragged his feet across the tile with the slow, defeated pace of someone who had clearly lost a silent battle with your lumpy couch.

“you weren’t kidding,” he muttered, eyeing the box of cereal like it might lunge at him.

“nope,” you said around a yawn, tearing open the bag of marshmallows with more force than necessary. “we’re in survival mode. carbs and sugar. the cornerstones of a good 1 a.m. meal.”

“chef’s choice.”

you poured half a bowl of cereal, then tossed in a generous handful of marshmallows — because, honestly, it was that kind of night. he watched as you pushed it toward him, then made your own.

you both sat at the tiny kitchen table — you cross-legged on the chair, him hunched with elbows on the table like he might pass out face-first into the bowl. the silence between you was thick with sleep and sugar and things unsaid.

a spoon clinked.

“thanks for not asking me why,” you said after a moment. “about everything. kai. dcfs. my weird hours. all of it.”

haruka didn’t look up right away. he just took a slow bite, chewed thoughtfully.

“figured you’d tell me when you wanted to,” he said finally. “or not.”

you stared at your cereal, suddenly finding the swirling milk much more interesting than it should be.

“…no one’s ever really waited.”

haruka gave a soft snort. “well, they’re missing out on quality marshmallow cereal conversations.”

you laughed — quietly, but genuinely. and for once, it didn’t feel forced. it didn’t feel like you had to keep everything together in front of him.

“hey,” he said a little while later, when the bowls were mostly empty and the air had gone a little heavier with sleep.

you looked up.

“i meant what i texted earlier. you’re doing a good job,” he said, eyes meeting yours, softer than usual. “even when it feels like you’re not. especially then.”

you blinked — a small breath catching in your throat. because the words landed exactly where your doubt usually sat.

“…thank you,” you whispered.

he didn’t need you to explain. didn’t ask for more. just stood and carried both bowls to the sink like he’d done it before, like he would again.

as he turned back toward the hallway, he paused.

“…wake me if kai declares war in the morning.”

you smiled, already half-laughing. “you’ll be the first line of defense.”

“lucky me,” he said, disappearing down the hall.

you stood there in your quiet kitchen, in the soft glow of the light, for a second longer.

and for once, the silence didn’t feel heavy.

just full.

you woke up to the low clatter of dishes and something that smelled like toast.

for a second, you forgot where you were — half-asleep in your own bed but not remembering how you got there. your shirt was wrinkled from the night before, and one sock was missing. you blinked up at the ceiling, trying to remember if you dreamed the whole cereal moment or if haruka had actually stayed the night.

the sounds from the kitchen answered for you.

kai’s laugh — light and sharp, muffled through the hallway. then haruka’s voice, low and teasing. something about eggs. something about burning them.

you slipped out of bed, shuffled toward the kitchen, blinking against the light spilling in through the windows. morning sun washed across the counters, illuminating a scene you weren’t used to:

kai sitting on the counter, swinging his legs in mismatched socks, licking jam off a spoon.

haruka standing at the stove — his hoodie sleeves pushed up, your bright yellow pan in his hand like it belonged there.

he didn’t notice you right away, not until kai spotted you and grinned.

“she lives!” kai cheered, mouth still full of toast.

haruka looked over his shoulder. “you missed the great breakfast debate of 7:42 a.m. — but i think we reached a truce.”

you rubbed your eyes, smiling through the haze of sleep. “and who’s winning?”

“me,” kai answered instantly.

haruka just shot him a look, then turned back to the stove.

you leaned against the doorway, watching the two of them move like this was normal. like your life had always included someone else in your kitchen, someone who offered help without asking for details first. the kind of help that showed up in the little things.

“you didn’t have to cook,” you mumbled.

“i didn’t,” haruka replied, glancing back with a smirk. “kai made toast. i’m just here for damage control.”

kai held up his jam-stained spoon proudly. “best toast in town.”

you walked over, ruffled his hair gently, and then reached for a mug from the cabinet.

“thanks, you two.”

“we accept payment in the form of pancakes next time,” kai said, hopping down from the counter.

“and coffee,” haruka added, watching you pour some into your mug. “strong. preferably not instant.”

you gave him a small, sleepy smirk over the rim of your cup. “you’re still here.”

he shrugged, like it didn’t mean anything. but he looked at you for a beat longer than he needed to, and his voice dropped just enough for you to catch the truth in it.

“you looked like you’d need a morning.”

and he was right.

you did.

₍^. .^₎⟆

it was one of those late afternoons where the sky looked like melted gold, and the ocean mirrored every shade of it — blue and amber and warm. kai had insisted on going to the beach again, buzzing with leftover energy after his school day, and you… well, you needed the water. it was the only place you ever felt like you could exhale.

haruka drove this time — kai in the backseat with his boogie board, humming a song you couldn’t place, occasionally tapping haruka’s shoulder to point out dogs he liked or cool skate tricks he saw.

by the time you pulled into the sandy parking lot, the wind was already picking up, salty and cool against your face. you stepped out of the car barefoot, your board tucked under one arm, already tugging your hoodie off.

“you two good here?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“we’re golden,” haruka said, lifting a small cooler from the trunk.

“i’m building a sandcastle empire,” kai announced.

“okay, king,” you grinned, ruffling his hair before jogging down toward the shoreline.

from where he sat, haruka watched you slip into the water like it was second nature — a quiet kind of grace in every step, every paddle. the board moved with you, not against you. he hadn’t seen you surf since that first morning, but it was still just as distracting.

kai set to work nearby, digging and packing sand, rambling about sea monsters and moat design. haruka helped him set up a little driftwood flag, watching you out in the waves between glances.

“…she’s really good,” he said aloud, more to himself than kai.

kai didn’t look up. “duh.”

“you come here a lot?”

“only when she’s okay.”

haruka paused at that. “what do you mean?”

“sometimes she doesn’t surf. like when she’s tired or when her brain’s all loud,” kai said, squinting into the sun. “but when she does, i know she’s okay. like, really okay.”

the answer was simple, and yet it echoed in haruka’s chest. he looked back at you again, catching the moment you stood tall on your board, arms outstretched like you were balancing more than just your body — like you were holding the day together with your fingertips.

you came back in close to sunset, towel-drying your hair as you made your way back toward the makeshift camp. kai had half-buried himself in sand, and haruka was lounging on a beach blanket, hoodie pulled over his head.

“how’s the empire?” you asked, dropping your board nearby.

“under siege,” kai said dramatically, motioning to the tide creeping closer.

“guess that means we should go soon,” you said, dropping beside haruka on the blanket.

you sat close, the kind of close that felt intentional without being obvious. you could feel his shoulder barely brushing yours. he passed you a bottle of water without a word.

“you looked happy out there,” he said after a while, low enough for only you to hear.

you glanced at him, hair still damp, the corners of your mouth tugging upward.

“for a little while,” you admitted.

“you should let it be longer than a little while.”

his voice wasn’t pushing. it didn’t demand. it just… lingered.

you didn’t reply right away. but your hand brushed against his, fingers tapping against the edge of the towel in a rhythm he swore you didn’t even notice.

kai eventually flopped onto the blanket beside you both, seaweed crown on his head, totally content.

“can we come back tomorrow?” he mumbled, already halfway to sleep.

“we’ll see,” you murmured, smoothing his hair away from his eyes.

haruka leaned back on his elbows, watching the sky shift to deeper orange. and maybe — just maybe — things didn’t feel so complicated tonight.

just soft.

and almost, almost simple.

the sun had already dipped past the horizon when you pulled out of the beach lot, the soft sound of waves replaced by the low hum of the car engine. kai was in the backseat, curled under one of the beach towels, arms wrapped tightly around a now half-deflated beach ball. his little snores filled the space like punctuation marks between silences.

you were riding shotgun this time, forehead resting against the window, the glass still cool from the breeze. haruka kept one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the volume on the radio until it was nothing more than a soft melody — instrumental, slow, something that matched the way the evening felt.

you broke the silence first.

“thank you… for today.”

he glanced over briefly. “you don’t have to thank me every time.”

“i feel like i do.”

“why?”

you hesitated, watching the blur of passing streetlights.

“because most people don’t stick around when it gets hard.”

haruka was quiet for a beat. then he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel softly and replied, “well… most people don’t have kai building sandcastles for them. kind of hard to walk away from that.”

you smiled despite yourself. “he likes you.”

“good. ‘cause i like him.”

he said it so casually — no drama, no need for some grand declaration — just honesty.

“and…” he added, his tone shifting, just slightly tighter at the edges, “i like being around you, too. even if it’s chaotic. even if you pretend like it’s not hard when it is.”

your breath caught, just for a second.

“i’m not pretending,” you whispered.

haruka glanced over again, and his voice softened.

“okay. maybe not pretending. just… carrying more than you should.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. it wasn’t an accusation. it wasn’t pity. just truth, folded neatly between his words.

“some days, it doesn’t feel like a choice,” you admitted quietly.

“i know,” he said. “but it still sucks.”

a silence settled between you again, but it didn’t feel heavy this time. just shared.

kai shifted in the back, mumbling something incoherent before settling again, face squished against the towel.

you glanced at haruka. “you tired?”

he huffed a small laugh. “a little sunburned. a little sand in my ears. not tired.”

“liar.”

“maybe.”

you smiled, watching him drive with one hand, steady and sure, like he’d done it a thousand times before — like he didn’t mind that your life wasn’t smooth or easy or sorted.

he didn’t push for more conversation. didn’t ask you to explain the chaos. he just drove, slow and steady down familiar roads, letting the night fold around you like it was safe here.

and maybe it was.

the truck rumbled to a stop in front of your house, headlights washing over the little front yard before cutting off and leaving everything bathed in porchlight and moonshadow.

haruka turned the key, silencing the engine.

kai stirred in the backseat with a sleepy grumble, face still pressed to the towel, lips parted and hair stuck to his forehead. you looked back at him, smile tugging gently at the corners of your mouth.

“he’s out cold,” you whispered.

haruka unbuckled and stepped out before you could reach for the door. you followed, hushed footsteps crunching against the gravel. without a word, he opened the backseat and bent down carefully, gathering kai into his arms like he’d done it before — like it wasn’t even something to think about.

kai didn’t stir. just curled against haruka’s chest, hands fisted in the front of his hoodie.

you unlocked the front door and held it open, motioning toward the hall. “his room’s on the right.”

haruka nodded, walking slow and quiet through your little home. it smelled faintly of ocean air and cinnamon from the candle you must’ve forgotten to blow out. you followed behind, watching as he gently settled kai onto the bed and tugged the covers up to his chin.

a soft exhale. a half-smile.

you stood in the doorway, arms folded loosely over your chest. “you’re good at that.”

haruka glanced over, lips tugging into a crooked smile. “i used to help with my little cousins. the trick is not waking them up once they’re down.”

“you’re like a kid-whisperer.”

“don’t tell anyone. ruins my whole image.”

you snorted under your breath as he walked past you, back toward the front door. you followed again, this time slower.

once outside, you stepped onto the porch beside him, the air cooler now — still salty, but calmer. the neighborhood was quiet, stars soft and blinking above.

you didn’t say anything for a moment. neither did he.

then, as he shifted like he was getting ready to leave, you broke the silence.

“you didn’t have to stay.”

“i know.”

“but you did.”

he looked at you, eyes unreadable in the low porchlight. “yeah. i did.”

you nodded, arms wrapping around yourself out of instinct more than cold.

“it’s hard,” you murmured. “figuring everything out. keeping it together.”

“you don’t have to say sorry for that,” he said gently.

“i’m not,” you replied. “just… saying it out loud, i guess.”

a pause. your eyes met.

he leaned slightly against the porch railing, hands in his pockets. “you’re not alone, you know.”

you looked down at your feet. “sometimes it feels like it.”

“i get that,” he said, voice low. “but you’re not. not anymore.”

the words sank in slow, like tidewater through sand.

you didn’t answer, not directly. just nodded once, slowly. then:

“get home safe.”

he stepped down from the porch, turning back for a moment with that half-smile still soft on his face.

“call me if you need backup,” he said. “for anything. surfboards, cereal… small dragons.”

you let out a quiet laugh. “thanks, haruka.”

“goodnight.”

you watched him walk back to his house as the street fell quiet again.

but the stillness didn’t feel so lonely this time.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the smell of toast and sugary cereal wafted through the kitchen as soft sunlight filtered in through the blinds. kai sat at the table in his usual saturday sprawl, legs swinging beneath his chair, a nearly-empty bowl of marshmallow cereal in front of him. he looked way too pleased with himself for this early in the morning.

you wandered in, hoodie half-zipped and hair messily tied back. “you’ve been up?”

“for like… an hour,” he said around a spoonful of cereal. “had to mentally prepare for surf stardom.”

you blinked at him. “what?”

“surf lessons,” he grinned. “you said you signed me up, remember?”

“oh— right,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “they’re free lessons at nine, right?”

“yup.”

you moved toward the coffee pot like it was life support. just as you poured your first cup, your phone buzzed across the counter.

[unknown number]

hey, someone called out— could you cover 10 to 5 today?

you stared at it, then sighed so loudly kai glanced over. “don’t tell me…”

“called in,” you muttered.

“but it’s saturday!”

“i know,” you groaned. “i thought we’d get a real day off.”

“this is why i can’t get famous,” kai deadpanned, setting his spoon down dramatically. “too many career interruptions.”

you let out a half-laugh as you scrolled to haruka’s name in your contacts.

“wait,” kai said, eyes lighting up. “what if haruka takes me?”

“to surf?”

“yeah! he lives right there. he’s cool. and you trust him.”

you eyed him, skeptical. “you just want him to think you’re cooler than you are.”

“mission already accomplished.”

you rolled your eyes, but hit call anyway. it rang twice before haruka picked up.

“yo.”

“hey, sorry to bother you. i got called into work— 10 to 5. kai has free surf lessons this morning. would you maybe be okay picking him up and hanging out after?”

he didn’t miss a beat. “yeah, of course. what time?”

“lessons start at nine and go until noon. i’ll text you the spot.”

“sounds good. i’ll be there.”

you sighed, a little too relieved. “thank you, seriously.”

“it’s no problem,” he said, voice warm. “kai’s fun.”

“he said i’m fun,” kai whispered, smug as ever.

you smiled without meaning to. “i owe you.”

“nah. this is just neighbors helping neighbors, right?”

“right,” you said, still smiling even after you hung up.

kai leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “so… should i start calling him sensei now or after i catch my first wave?”

“don’t push it.”

kai was already standing on the porch when haruka pulled up, a towel slung around his shoulders and flip-flops smacking the ground as he jogged toward the car.

“yo!” kai grinned, opening the passenger side door and throwing his bag in the back seat. “you’re right on time, sensei.”

haruka leaned an elbow against the steering wheel, raising an eyebrow. “sensei?”

“yep. surf master. wave whisperer. that’s you now.”

haruka let out a small laugh. “we’ll see how long that title lasts.”

as they drove toward the shoreline, kai chattered nonstop—half about the surf school, half about cereal brands and his future plans as a “sponsored pro with a cereal deal.” haruka listened, throwing in the occasional “yeah?” or “no way,” while glancing occasionally at the passenger seat with a crooked smile. he was definitely used to quieter mornings, but something about kai’s energy was contagious.

the beach was already glowing when they arrived. instructors were setting up foam boards and sun canopies, and a few kids were already stretching, sand sticking to their feet. haruka walked kai down to the lesson area, hands in his hoodie pocket, watching as the boy immediately fell into place with a group of other kids.

he didn’t realize he was lingering until one of the instructors approached.

“you dropping him off?”

haruka nodded. “yep. i’ll hang around for a bit.”

“cool—he’s got good energy,” the instructor said, waving to kai as the group gathered.

haruka took a spot near the rocks, folding his arms over his chest as he watched. kai was laughing, already trying to balance on a board laid flat in the sand. he fell twice, got up with a flourish, and threw a thumbs-up in haruka’s direction.

haruka shook his head, smirking.

hours passed in a blur of sun and foam. kai was soaked and salty, hair dripping, but his grin never faded. the instructors had let him paddle out once—he didn’t catch anything big, but it didn’t matter. he was glowing.

as the lesson wrapped, kai ran back to where haruka waited under the shade of a weather-worn umbrella near the board rental shack.

“dude,” kai panted, dropping onto the towel beside him. “i was in the ocean. like… in it. and i stood up. for, like, two seconds.”

haruka handed him a water bottle. “looked more like four seconds to me.”

“you saw?!”

“i’ve been watching the whole time.”

kai leaned back, sipping loudly. “you’re cooler than i thought.”

haruka shrugged, amused. “don’t go spreading that around.”

they sat in silence for a while, just listening to the waves and distant chatter. kai’s legs kicked sand idly.

“hey,” kai said after a beat, quieter this time, “thanks for coming with me today. i know you didn’t have to.”

haruka tilted his head slightly. “it’s not a big deal.”

“nah, it kinda is. my sister… she does a lot. she never really gets a break.” kai glanced up. “i think she likes having you around, you know.”

haruka blinked. the sand suddenly felt very interesting. “…yeah?”

kai shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but he was smiling. “just saying.”

haruka glanced out at the water, lips tugging slightly upward.

“you hungry?” he asked after a second.

“always.”

“then let’s find food before you pass out.”

the beach faded behind them, leaving the scent of brine and sunblock clinging to their clothes as they wandered into a small seaside diner nestled just off the boardwalk. it had chipped blue walls, surfboards mounted like trophies, and a fan that creaked as it spun overhead. haruka didn’t say much as they slid into a booth, letting kai settle in across from him with sandy hair and salt-dried cheeks.

a waitress dropped off two menus and a lazy grin. “water okay?”

kai nodded eagerly. “and fries. i saw someone with curly fries.”

“fries are later,” haruka said, glancing at the menu. “eat real food first.”

kai groaned. “you sound like my sister.”

“good. someone has to.”

they ended up with grilled cheese and tomato soup for kai, a plate of grilled fish and rice for haruka. kai dunked half his sandwich in ketchup instead of soup.

“this is the best day ever,” kai said through a mouthful. “better than last year’s school trip. better than the zoo. better than the time my sister let me have waffles for dinner.”

haruka raised an eyebrow. “that’s a high bar.”

kai nodded seriously. “it is. but surfing beats everything.”

a pause settled between them—easy, comfortable, filled with the clatter of silverware and the hum of ocean breeze outside the screen door.

then kai looked up, voice softer. “can we go back?”

haruka blinked. “back?”

“to the beach. i wanna try again.” he nudged a fry with his finger. “just a little bit. i kept thinking about that wave i missed. i think i can do it next time.”

haruka leaned back in the booth, eyeing him. “you’re not tired?”

“nah. okay—maybe. but it’s, like… good tired. like my arms might fall off but i still wanna go.” he glanced up hopefully. “please?”

haruka glanced out the window at the faint shimmer of waves in the distance, the afternoon sun stretching toward its slow descent. a few clouds hovered low, but the breeze was still warm, still light.

he exhaled, the corner of his mouth tugging up.

“alright.”

kai whooped.

“but,” haruka added, holding up a finger, “you wipe out more than three times in a row, and we call it a day.”

kai held up three fingers solemnly. “deal.”

“you’re gonna forget this deal in five minutes.”

“probably.”

they paid the bill, wiped sand from their clothes the best they could, and made their way back toward the beach—kai practically skipping ahead while haruka followed, a quiet warmth settling somewhere in his chest he didn’t quite have the words for yet.

the beach buzzed with late afternoon haze, the ocean glinting gold as the waves rolled in like lullabies. haruka sat on the warm sand with one knee pulled up, watching kai paddle out again. he’d fallen at least five times already, but every time he popped up laughing, cheeks flushed with joy and eyes bright with determination.

haruka couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

his phone buzzed, interrupting the calm. he glanced at it.

umemiya [2:03 PM]

yo. it’s happening. downtown. they called you out, sakura. whole crew’s headed there now.

haruka’s jaw tightened.

he looked up—kai had just mounted his board again, legs dangling as he floated peacefully for a moment. the kid looked steady, almost too confident.

haruka cupped his hands around his mouth. “kai! i’ll be back in a few minutes! stay close to shore, alright?! just practice the little stuff!”

kai raised a hand and waved without looking back, lost in the rhythm of the tide.

haruka hesitated, guilt biting at his heels, but the thought of letting his crew down—of backing out of something with his name on it—twisted his stomach.

he ran.

the minutes turned into an hour.

then two.

then almost three.

the sky deepened from peach to amber, and clouds began to blur the sun’s final rays. kai, in the water, was shivering. the waves had picked up. he’d gone farther than he meant to, chasing a swell that looked just right.

he fell again.

this time, the board slipped too far.

this time, the waves were too high.

this time, he couldn’t find the surface right away.

this time, he couldn’t breathe.

his screams echoed across the shore—choked, frightened, flailing.

“help! please!”

someone heard.

a familiar woman in a grey windbreaker, hair tied back, a folder clutched under her arm—she’d parked just across the street, halfway through climbing the porch steps of the reader’s home for a surprise follow-up visit.

it took her one second to drop everything and sprint.

kai was limp when she reached him, the tide dragging him in raggedly. she pulled him out of the surf with a strength fueled by panic, kneeling beside him in soaked khakis and sensible shoes. she tilted his head gently, patting his back, coaxing air into his lungs.

“breathe, sweetheart,” she whispered, pressing a steady hand to his back. “you’re alright. i’ve got you. breathe.”

he coughed violently—then again—and finally inhaled.

the sun had barely started to set, casting long shadows over the front of your house. the street felt heavier than usual. too still. too silent—until it wasn’t.

“kai?” you called out, dropping your bag on the porch, heart already thudding painfully against your ribs. the door was cracked open. no laughter. no cartoons. just absence.

you burst in.

empty.

your gaze darted everywhere. the kitchen. the living room. then through the back window, you spotted it—kai, being gently ushered into the backseat of a plain, unmarked vehicle. beside him, the familiar figure of the dcfs worker, eyes stern and cautious.

“what the hell is going on?!” you shouted, rushing outside.

“ma’am, please calm down—” the social worker started.

“don’t tell me to calm down, he’s my brother!” your voice cracked. “what happened?!”

before she could answer, you caught sight of haruka rounding the corner. bruises littered his face. his knuckles were raw. blood trickled near his temple. his eyes locked with yours—then darted to the car.

“who the hell are you? get away from him!” he snapped, stepping forward, fists clenched as if ready for another fight.

“haruka, stop—!” you screamed just as the woman pulled out her badge and said, calm but forceful, “i’m mrs. shimizu with child protective services. and i was sent to check on the well-being of kai in your absence.”

your stomach dropped. “my what?”

“you weren’t home. your brother was found unattended. and he was drowning.”

“what?!” you staggered.

kai, still wet and trembling in the back seat, looked at you with watery eyes. “i—I didn’t mean to go out too far—”

“oh my god…” your hand went to your mouth, knees buckling slightly. “kai…”

“ma’am, we’ll be placing him in temporary custody for the time being,” the worker continued. “i’ve given you multiple warnings. and leaving him with a minor neighbor while you’re gone doesn’t qualify as stable care.”

“he’s not just a neighbor!” you choked out, glaring at haruka. “he was supposed to watch him!”

“don’t pin this on me,” haruka snapped, stepping closer. “you didn’t even tell me what was really going on. i thought it was just for a few hours—no one said anything about dcfs being involved!”

“because it’s none of your business!” you yelled. “i didn’t ask to be a guardian at nineteen! i didn’t ask to lose everything and take care of a kid on my own while working night shifts just to survive!”

“and yet you still found time to surf?” haruka bit, voice sharp.

you flinched like he slapped you.

“you don’t know anything about me,” you hissed, voice dangerously low. “surfing is the one thing that keeps me together. you think i’m irresponsible? you think this is easy?”

“it’s not about easy,” he shot back, chest rising with every breath. “i just—i trusted you to be honest. and you weren’t. not once.”

“and i trusted you to protect the one person i care about,” you spat. “look at him! look at him, haruka—he almost died!”

kai let out a sob from inside the car.

the air cracked with silence until you pushed past haruka and tried to open the door, only for the social worker to step in your way.

“ma’am,” she said firmly. “i have to ask you to step back.”

you stared, eyes brimming. “kai…” your voice softened. “baby, i’m so sorry. i swear i’ll fix this—i’ll get you back, okay? please don’t forget that.”

kai whimpered, nodding as the door shut.

the car began to pull away.

and you broke.

“you let this happen,” you turned to haruka, eyes blazing. “you let me trust you. and you left him. for what? some dumb fight?”

“i didn’t know it would take that long—i thought he was safe!” he shouted back.

“he was safe. with me. but you let your fists and your pride get in the way. and now he’s gone.”

“i didn’t mean to—” he tried to approach, but you stepped back, voice cracking.

“don’t. just—don’t.”

from down the street, umemiya, hayato, and ren came running, hearing the tail-end of your fight.

“what the hell is going on?” ren asked, looking between the two of you and the retreating car.

“you heard enough,” you muttered, brushing past them. haruka reached out, gently grabbing your wrist.

“wait—”

you turned sharply, eyes red and furious. “don’t you ever touch me again.”

umemiya pulled haruka back instinctively, sensing the weight behind your voice.

and with that, you slammed your front door shut, the echo of it ricocheting down the block like a final blow.

the night felt thick. like smoke without fire.

still, haruka couldn’t shake the image of your face.

you hadn’t just looked angry.

you’d looked broken.

the moment that car drove off with kai—something inside him twisted.

tight. ugly.

regret or guilt, he couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

he sat down on the curb outside your house, resting his elbows on his knees.

his knuckles stung from the fight he’d gone to earlier—pointless, juvenile, all fists and fury because someone from another school mouthed off.

and he’d left kai behind. because he assumed it’d be quick. assumed you were just overprotective. assumed so much he never should’ve.

“you good, man?” hayato asked carefully, crouching nearby.

“no,” haruka muttered. “not even close.”

“you didn’t mean for that to happen,” ren offered, quiet behind him.

“doesn’t matter.” haruka’s jaw clenched. “i still left him. she trusted me. and i let her down.”

he could still hear your voice.

the crack of it when you said kai almost died.

the way your whole body recoiled when he tried to explain.

he didn’t blame you. not for any of it.

he pressed his palms to his eyes, breathing hard.

you hadn’t told him the full story. about dcfs. about how fragile your balance was, how hard you were working just to stay afloat.

and he’d thrown judgment like stones into the only glass house left standing.

he hated the way his words echoed in his mind:

“you still found time to surf?”

he knew why you surfed.

he’d seen it—how the waves quieted the weight you carried. how you carved your breath into salt and sky, like it was the only way to stay human.

“i messed up,” haruka whispered, voice hoarse. “i really messed up.”

he stared at your front door, still shut, the porch light flickering.

all this time, he thought you were interesting because you didn’t talk much.

but now, he realized you’d been quiet because you were holding everything together.

kai. work. life.

alone.

and he’d judged you without asking if you were okay.

his throat tightened, a bruise swelling somewhere deeper than his skin.

“i need to fix this,” he said aloud, more to himself than anyone.

umemiya glanced at him, cautious. “and how do you plan to do that?”

haruka didn’t know.

not yet.

but one thing was certain—

he wasn’t about to let this story end here.

not when he finally saw the truth behind your silence.

not when he knew what losing kai meant to you.

he just prayed it wasn’t already too late.

₍^. .^₎⟆

you sat curled on the edge of the couch, a throw blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders though the morning was already warm. the phone balanced between your shoulder and ear, your voice quiet and dry from a night of no sleep.

“i understand,” you murmured. “i’m working on gathering the paperwork. the medical release forms and school records are still pending, but i should have them in the next few days.”

a pause.

the voice on the other end was steady, firm. the same social worker from yesterday. she hadn’t raised her voice once during the whole conversation, but her tone carried weight—a quiet kind of pressure that made your chest feel tight.

“we’re giving you time,” she said, “but please understand—kai’s safety is our top priority.”

your throat burned.

“i am keeping him safe.”

another pause. you weren’t sure if she believed you.

“i know this is hard,” she said at last. “but with no secondary guardian, and no stable childcare during work hours… it’s difficult to prove long-term placement in your home is viable.”

her words hung there.

clinical. impersonal.

like your life was a stack of files and checkboxes.

the call ended with a polite goodbye and the promise of another home visit by the end of the week.

you let the phone drop into your lap.

your fingers curled into the blanket, pulling it tighter around yourself like you could hide from everything spiraling around you.

the screen lit up again—your manager’s name flashing.

you didn’t want to answer.

you already knew.

still, you picked up.

“hey,” your voice came out flat.

“we’re short,” your manager barked, skipping pleasantries. “you’re on at four. we need you.”

“i—i can’t,” you said slowly, staring down at the scuff marks on the coffee table. “i had an emergency yesterday. my brother—he’s with dcfs right now. i have meetings, documents to file, legal—”

“then maybe you should’ve thought about that before signing up for a job you clearly can’t handle,” they snapped. “we’re running a business, not a charity. you’ve already missed two shifts this month.”

your heart sank. you knew where this was going.

“you walk out on this one, and don’t bother coming back.”

for a second, you considered fighting it. telling them to go to hell. that none of this was your fault.

but then you looked at the stack of unopened bills on the counter. the rent notice. the empty fridge.

“…i’ll be there.”

“good,” they said coldly. “don’t be late.”

you ended the call.

the blanket slipped from your shoulders as you stood, legs stiff. you moved slowly to the bedroom, pulling out your uniform from the hamper. the same one you hadn’t had time to wash since your last shift. it still smelled faintly of fry oil and stress.

you laid it out on the bed and sat down next to it, hands resting in your lap.

you were exhausted. from holding everything up. from being everyone’s safety net but your own.

but you had no choice.

today would be long.

and it would hurt.

but you’d show up anyway.

because you always did.

you were halfway through tying your hair up when your phone buzzed again. you expected another work message. another call from your lawyer, but the name on the screen made your hands freeze mid-motion.

haruka.

for a second, you just stared at it. your heart thudded in a strange, uneven rhythm.

his name looked too soft on your screen. too familiar. like it didn’t belong after everything, but your thumb moved on its own, and you opened the message.

haruka sakura

8:22 a.m.

hey

i don’t know if you want to hear from me

i wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t

but i’m sorry

for everything, for not seeing it sooner, for letting kai get hurt, for the things i said

a pause. a second bubble appeared.

you’re doing everything

and i didn’t get that until i watched you fall apart in front of us

and even then i didn’t really understand

but i want to now

i want to help

another pause.

if there’s anything i can do

anything at all

i’ll do it

just say the word

and then—

also

kai told me i’m not “completely dumb”

so i think that means he forgives me a little

maybe that counts for something

you stared at the screen, the corner of your mouth twitching slightly despite everything. a half-second of something that almost felt like warmth.

your fingers hovered over the keys for a moment.

you didn’t know what to say.

you were still angry. still tired.

but his words… felt real.

maybe too late. maybe not.

you glanced at your uniform, the sleeves wrinkled, the scent of your shift already clinging to the fabric.

haruka was barely listening to the conversation inside.

umemiya had said something about skipping practice, hayato was eating leftover curry straight from the container, and ren was half-asleep on the couch.

they were there, sure — but his mind wasn’t.

not since he saw your porch light flicker on.

from the window of his room, he watched as your door creaked open, just after 9:00 a.m.

no message back. no response to his texts.

you stepped out quietly, dressed in something simple and worn — hoodie, shorts, sandals that made soft scuffing sounds as you walked.

your keys jingled once in your hand, your head low, shoulders a little hunched.

you looked… tired.

not in the just-woke-up way.

in the i-haven’t-slept-in-days way.

haruka leaned against the window frame, arms folded.

he didn’t say anything. didn’t call out.

he just watched as you threw a reusable bag in the passenger seat and shut the door with your hip, the slam echoing faintly in the morning air.

your engine coughed to life. a second later, you were reversing down the drive, gone in a matter of seconds.

his fingers flexed a little against the sill.

“yo, haruka.”

ren’s voice floated in from behind him. “you good?”

he didn’t answer right away. just stared down the street, where your tail lights had disappeared.

“…she didn’t text me back.”

“she’s probably still pissed,” hayato said from the floor, mouth full. “you kinda did mess up, dude.”

“no,” umemiya added, quieter, “you both did.”

haruka didn’t argue.

he didn’t have the energy to defend himself anymore — not against them, and not against the voice in his head replaying kai’s scream, your broken expression, the way your hand had trembled when the social worker packed up his things.

“she looked… hollow,” haruka said finally, barely above a whisper.

“like she’s surviving on instinct now. like it’s the only thing left she knows how to do.”

his friends didn’t respond this time.

because they knew he was right.

and still — she’d left the house.

she was still trying.

he watched the empty street for a moment longer before turning away from the window.

the house was still and quiet when you returned — the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful, just empty.

you set the groceries down on the counter, keys still in hand, breath catching in your throat.

you didn’t even get a chance to unpack before your phone rang.

“this is marcia from dcfs — can you speak?”

your heart sank instantly.

“yeah. yes,” you answered, nearly tripping over your own words as you stepped outside, phone clutched tight against your ear.

“we’ve reviewed your case and the emergency response from yesterday. based on what’s been submitted, the department is willing to move forward with a negotiated custody reinstatement.”

your pulse quickened. “meaning?”

“meaning you will have temporary custody of kai — but only if you meet a strict set of conditions.”

you swallowed hard.

“you must submit all signed documents today. from there, you’ll need to pass every surprise visit for the next five months. if anything raises a red flag — emotional instability, absence, unemployment, unsafe living environment — custody will be permanently revoked. and—”

“—and i need to be employed,” you finished for her, voice barely above a whisper.

“not just employed,” she clarified. “employed somewhere that provides enough for rent, groceries, utilities, medical expenses, and school support. otherwise, you’ll be deemed unfit.”

your stomach sank. but you didn’t cry. not this time.

“i’ll bring the paperwork in now,” you said.

and you did.

you gathered the packet from your counter — the stack of custody forms, guardianship renewals, and revised placement evaluations. you sat at your tiny kitchen table and signed each one with shaking hands, rereading every paragraph twice, making sure nothing would be left incomplete.

you even checked the envelope three times before you sealed it shut.

by 11:00 a.m., you were behind the wheel again. by 11:30, walking into the dcfs building with your documents in hand. by noon, you’d signed the final agreement.

and as you walked out of that office, exhausted but determined, your phone buzzed again.

your boss.

you didn’t even hesitate this time.

“hi, yeah—i need to put in my two weeks.”

a pause.

“…no, not negotiable.”

he gave you grief. threatened to blacklist you.

you ended the call before he could finish.

the next few hours blurred together — a phone call, a wait, some tears, more signatures.

and then finally:

kai was sitting beside you in the passenger seat again.

back home. quiet.

hands folded in his lap, small backpack resting against his knees.

you glanced over at him, heart tugging painfully. “you okay?”

he nodded a little. “yeah. are you?”

you didn’t answer.

instead, you reached over and grabbed his hand.

“we’re gonna make it work,” you whispered, more to yourself than him.

his fingers squeezed yours once.

and that was enough.

you were home.

and so was he.

when you finally pulled into the driveway, it felt strange. like something had shifted. like the silence had moved inside.

kai followed you up the steps, dragging his feet a little as you unlocked the front door.

“hey,” you said softly, giving him a small smile as you stepped in and held the door open for him. “i grabbed groceries earlier. if you’re hungry, i can make your favorite.”

kai looked up at you, blinking.

“the stir fry with the egg and shrimp and the crunchy onions?” he asked, peeking past you toward the kitchen.

you chuckled, gently nudging him inside. “of course. is there any other version?”

he shrugged, toeing off his shoes.

you dropped the grocery bags on the counter and began unpacking, the rustle of plastic and clinks of jars filling the space. kai hovered for a moment, then leaned on the edge of the counter.

“…what about haruka?”

your hands froze for just a second, fingers curled around a bag of rice.

“…what about him?” you asked, not looking up.

kai picked at the skin on his thumb, his voice lower now. “he’s not in trouble, right?”

you exhaled, slow and deliberate, and turned toward him.

“no. he’s not.”

“you’re mad at him though,” kai said, watching you closely.

your jaw tightened, not from anger but exhaustion. and maybe a little fear. “i was. i am. but it’s not just that simple.”

kai nodded a little. then asked, almost too casually, “can he come over still?”

you blinked at him, then smiled gently. “you like him that much?”

kai didn’t answer right away. then he shrugged, cheeks turning faintly red. “he lets me win sometimes.”

you raised an eyebrow. “does he now?”

kai nodded again, trying not to grin. “and he always brings snacks.”

“ahhh, so that’s the real reason,” you teased, poking his cheek.

he laughed, then fell quiet.

you looked down at the rice in your hand and turned back toward the stove.

“if he wants to come over, i won’t stop him,” you said softly, tossing the rice in the pot. “but for now, let’s focus on getting you fed and settled, yeah?”

kai gave a small smile. “okay.”

he wandered over to the table and sat, legs swinging under the chair, watching as you moved around the kitchen — quiet, steady, maybe a little lighter than before.

and even if the air between you still held a hundred unsaid things, for now, it was enough.

you stood at the end of haruka’s walkway, fingers flexing against the container of still-warm stir fry you brought as a peace offering. your nerves twitched beneath your skin, unsure if this was more awkward or brave. probably both.

kai had asked—no, insisted—that you let haruka know he was back home. and as much as your pride wanted to keep your distance, your heart knew the boy was right. the quiet wasn’t helping anyone.

you knocked.

the door opened faster than expected. haruka stood there, slightly out of breath, like he had run to get it. his eyes widened when he saw you, his hand freezing on the edge of the door.

“…hey,” you said, shifting your weight. “sorry to just show up.”

he blinked. “no, i— it’s okay.”

you held up the container. “kai’s back.”

his shoulders dropped in the tiniest way—relief, maybe. hope, too. he stepped aside a little, as if he didn’t know whether to invite you in or keep leaning on the frame.

“he wanted me to let you know. and he was wondering if… you and the guys would want to come over for dinner?”

haruka stared for a second too long. then scratched the back of his neck, his voice slightly breathy. “yeah. yeah, of course. he’s okay?”

“a little shaken. tired. but yeah.” you glanced down. “he asked about you, you know. not even two minutes after we got in the house.”

a flicker of a smile broke through haruka’s usual guarded expression. “he always does.”

you exhaled a short laugh and passed him the container. “that’s his favorite, by the way. figured you might want some, too. if you’re still not mad at me.”

he took it slowly, fingers brushing yours for a second.

“i was never mad,” he said softly.

the pause between you lingered, weightless but meaningful. maybe the apology was already understood. maybe you both knew what was still too fresh to say.

you cleared your throat. “come by in like an hour?”

“we’ll be there,” he said.

you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you halfway down the porch.

“hey.”

you glanced back.

haruka shifted the container in his hands. “it’s really good to see you.”

you smiled, quiet and real. “you too.”

₍^. .^₎⟆

the house smelled like garlic, soy sauce, and warmth — familiar, grounding. kai had insisted on helping you set the table, even if that just meant uneven placemats and chopsticks placed at strange angles. he was humming as he did it, a tune you didn’t recognize but knew he probably made up on the spot.

by the time the knock came at the door, kai was already sprinting to open it.

“you guys took forever!” he announced, throwing the door open with a dramatic flair.

haruka stood there with a faint smile, his hair slightly windblown, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. behind him came umemiya, hayato, and ren — a mix of energy and calm as usual. ren held a large soda bottle, hayato had his arms full with a massive bag of chips, and umemiya had some cheap bakery dessert he’d proudly picked out himself.

“we didn’t take forever,” hayato muttered, ruffling kai’s hair as he passed. “your stomach’s just dramatic.”

“you guys came hungry, right?” you asked from the kitchen, wiping your hands on a towel.

“starving,” ren answered, sliding into one of the chairs like he already belonged there. he did. they all kind of did.

haruka lingered near the doorway for a beat longer than the rest, eyes drifting around your living room. maybe he was remembering how it looked the last time—loud with anger, filled with heartbreak. but now, it was different. still healing. still fragile. but home.

“you okay?” you asked gently, nodding toward the dining area.

he met your eyes. “yeah. i am now.”

the dinner itself was a mixture of chaotic conversation and second helpings. kai kept talking over everyone, trying to tell three stories at once, and haruka’s friends listened like he was the most important person in the room. occasionally, someone would sneak a look at you and haruka—especially when your knees bumped under the table and neither of you moved away.

“so…” umemiya leaned back, patting his stomach. “if we keep showing up like this, we get fed like royalty?”

“only if you bring desserts like that again,” you teased, pointing to the half-eaten lemon cake.

kai nodded, mouth full. “this is the best night ever.”

haruka smiled at that, looking from kai to you. “agreed.”

you caught his gaze, and for a moment, the noise faded. you could hear the soft hum of dishes being passed, kai laughing at one of ren’s terrible jokes, the buzz of the ceiling fan overhead. and under it all, a quiet sense of peace.

not everything was perfect. but something about tonight felt like a new beginning.

the house was quieter now, full of the clinking of dishes and the soft hush of running water. most of the boys had said their goodbyes already, pulling kai into one last chaotic hug before heading home, full and happy. only haruka had stayed behind, sleeves rolled up, drying the last of the plates beside you at the sink.

“you really didn’t have to help,” you said, voice low, a little tired. a little grateful.

“i wanted to,” he said, not looking at you. “figured it’s the least i could do.”

you glanced at him. “because of everything that happened?”

he shrugged, his usual cool expression faltering. “because i care.”

it came out quietly, like it surprised even him.

you paused, your hand tightening slightly around the dish in the sink. you weren’t sure if it was the weight of the day, or the way his voice softened on that last word, but suddenly the air between you felt thinner. warmer.

he passed you another plate, and your fingers brushed. just barely. but enough.

you looked at each other then. really looked.

his eyes weren’t distant or guarded — they were open, watching you like you were something delicate and on fire at the same time. he swallowed, throat bobbing.

“i haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said, voice low, nearly drowned out by the faucet. “and i’m not just saying that because kai likes me.”

you stared, heart thudding. something in your chest jumped at the honesty in his tone, the way he stood a little closer than before.

“haruka—”

“i know it’s complicated,” he interrupted gently, gaze flicking from your mouth back to your eyes. “but if you’d let me, i’d like to—”

“CAN I HAVE DESSERT OR WHAT?”

you both flinched at the loud voice from the hallway.

kai appeared in the kitchen like a lightning bolt in pajamas, rubbing his eyes and looking at the two of you suspiciously.

“why are you standing so close?” he narrowed his eyes at haruka, then looked at you. “were you fighting?”

you blinked, cheeks burning. haruka stepped back slightly, scratching the back of his neck.

“uh—no. just finishing the dishes,” he mumbled, passing you a towel like it was a shield.

kai yawned dramatically. “anyway, i want a popsicle. and i want haruka to pick the flavor.”

you gave haruka a look — somewhere between help me and sorry — as kai pulled him toward the freezer.

as haruka followed, he glanced back at you with the smallest smile. not disappointed. just patient.

whatever that moment was — whatever it could’ve become — it would wait.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the house was still. sun streaked across the floorboards, dust floating like lazy glitter in the golden light. you were asleep on the couch, an arm thrown over your face, an empty coffee mug by your side and paperwork still half-sorted from the night before.

kai, already dressed and armed with the quiet footsteps of a kid who’s learned how not to wake you, scribbled a quick note on a napkin:

“went next door. don’t worry c: !!”

at haruka’s house, the energy was much different.

umemiya was half-hanging off the couch. hayato was poking around the kitchen for breakfast. ren sat upside down on a beanbag, hair in his eyes, mumbling about needing more sleep.

haruka sat at the kitchen table, spooning cereal into his mouth in a daze — until kai pushed open the door without knocking.

“yo,” kai greeted, like he lived there too. “i need to talk to you.”

“hey, little man,” ren said, barely moving. “what’s up?”

kai marched over to haruka and pointed a finger at him. “you need to tell my sister how you feel.”

the entire room paused.

“…what?” haruka blinked, mid-bite.

“you heard me,” kai said, arms crossed. “she’s not gonna say anything first. she’s too scared. but she likes you. and you like her. and i’m tired of being the only one saying stuff around here.”

umemiya gave a low whistle. “damn. kid’s got a point.”

hayato grinned. “you got a nine-year-old doing emotional labor for you now?”

haruka flushed. “it’s not that simple.”

“why not?” kai asked, unfazed. “you care about her. you helped her. she let you into our house. and she made that spicy ramen you like. that means something.”

ren added sleepily, “you let people eat your cereal. that means something too.”

haruka looked down at the bowl, then back at kai — who was looking at him not just as a kid, but as someone who’d quietly learned the weight of being protective before he should’ve.

“…what if she doesn’t want me like that?” haruka muttered.

kai rolled his eyes, the way only a kid who’s been through too much knows how. “then at least you’ll know. but if you wait too long, you’re gonna miss your chance. and then you’ll both be sad and weird forever. and i don’t want that. it’s gross.”

haruka blinked, taken aback.

the others were already grinning.

“you heard the man,” hayato said, patting him on the shoulder. “go confess your undying love.”

“or, you know, talk to her,” ren added with a shrug.

“now,” kai demanded. “before she wakes up and gets all serious again.”

haruka looked down at the cereal, then at his friends, and finally at kai — who, for once, wasn’t joking.

“…alright,” he said softly, standing up. “alright. i’ll try.”

the air was still heavy with sleep. the kind that clung to your skin, making it hard to lift your limbs or focus your eyes. your neck ached slightly from where you’d curled up on the couch without meaning to, the light cotton throw tangled around your ankles.

a groggy breath escaped you as you sat up, the morning sun already pooling through the blinds.

you blinked at the coffee table. papers still spread out. a half-empty glass of water. and something else — a folded napkin. a kid’s handwriting scrawled across it in blue pen.

went next door. don’t worry c: !!

you stared for a second.

“…kai,” you mumbled with a sleepy sigh, pushing a hand through your hair.

he hadn’t even woken you.

you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stood up, feet padding across the cool floor. the quiet settled in a strange way — too still, too soft. almost nervous. like the house knew what kind of moment was waiting just outside of it.

you opened the door, stepped into the light.

next door wasn’t far.

but for some reason, the walk felt long — like you were crossing some invisible threshold.

you reached the porch, and lifted your hand to knock.

but before your knuckles could hit the door, it opened.

and there was haruka.

he looked… surprised. like he was just coming to get you. his dark hoodie was slightly wrinkled, and his hair was pushed back lazily from his forehead. his lips parted slightly, and for a second, neither of you said anything.

he held the door halfway open, and you held the napkin in your hand.

“…he left a note,” you said finally, a small smile curling at the edge of your lips. “real official.”

haruka chuckled softly, eyes lowering to the napkin. “yeah. said it was urgent.”

“he said that?”

“yep.” haruka leaned against the doorframe a little, voice quieter now. “he said i needed to talk to you.”

you blinked.

“talk to me?” you echoed, cautious.

he nodded. “yeah. and… i agree with him.”

you stood there, heart starting to pick up, like it was recognizing something it had been waiting to hear.

“…okay,” you whispered. “then talk.”

and haruka smiled — nervously, earnestly — and stepped outside, gently closing the door behind him as his friends listened silently from the kitchen, holding their breath.

haruka stepped off the porch, hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes flicking toward the sidewalk, then back at you.

“look, i’m… not really good at this kind of thing,” he started, his voice low and steady, almost like he was thinking out loud. “talking about stuff.”

you didn’t say anything. you just waited.

“but… i’ve been paying attention,” he said. “to you. to how hard you try. and how you never ask for help, even when you should.”

his eyes glanced up, meeting yours briefly, and something flickered there — a kind of nervous boldness, like he knew this might be too much but needed to say it anyway.

“and i used to think you were just… cold. hard to read.”

he exhaled. “but you’re not. you’re just tired.”

your chest tightened.

“and i guess i started thinking about you more than i meant to,” he added, almost like he was confessing to a habit. “wondering how you were doing. checking your window without really thinking about it.”

he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, eyes darting away again.

“kai saw it before i did,” he muttered. “kept asking me if i liked you. guess he was right.”

your breath caught a little.

he shrugged, awkward and quiet.

“i’m not trying to make things harder for you. or mess anything up. i just… thought you should know.”

you stood there, napkin still in your hand, wind brushing gently past you like even it was trying not to interrupt.

“you don’t have to say anything,” haruka said, softly, stepping back toward the door. “i just didn’t wanna lie about it anymore.”

he started to reach for the doorknob—

but your hand caught his sleeve.

and for a second, everything held still.

your fingers barely grazed the fabric of his sleeve, but it was enough to stop him.

haruka turned slightly, surprised. you weren’t sure what you were going to say yet — the words were caught somewhere between your throat and your heartbeat — but before either of you could speak—

“waitwaitWAIT—are you REALLY doing it?! are you saying the thing?!”

kai’s voice came screeching from behind the half-open door, followed by the sound of socked feet sliding on the floor.

you blinked as your little brother barreled outside, nearly tripping over himself in his rush. “i knew it! i KNEW you liked my sister! you two were being weird about it—”

“kai—” you started, but he was already throwing dramatic little hand gestures in the air.

“you were all like ‘oh, you’re tired,’ and she was all like”—he scrunched up his face in a mock swoon—“‘no, haruka, don’t look at me like that,’ and—”

before he could fully spiral into imitation mode, umemiya popped his head out of the door behind him.

“bro, c’mon,” he groaned, grabbing kai by the hood of his sweatshirt.

“but they’re in loooove—!”

“you are nine. you don’t get to narrate this part. inside.”

hayato gave you a sheepish smile as he pulled kai by the shoulders, and ren offered a quiet thumbs up from the hallway before sliding the door shut again.

then it was just you and haruka. again.

his hand was still halfway to the doorknob. you were still holding onto his sleeve. and the silence left behind was thick with everything unspoken.

haruka rubbed the back of his neck, eyes dropping.

“he’s… kind of intense.”

you let out a soft breath of a laugh. “you get used to it.”

another beat passed.

this time, it was you who spoke.

“i thought about you too,” you said quietly. “a lot more than i expected to.”

haruka’s eyes flicked up, not quite hopeful, but something softer, something like cautious relief settling behind them.

you swallowed, then added, “you made me feel seen. like i wasn’t just… surviving.”

his face shifted — only slightly — but it was enough. the stiffness around his mouth eased. his shoulders dropped a bit.

“you don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he said, voice gentle. “but i’m here. if you want me to be.”

he didn’t reach for your hand. he didn’t move closer. he just offered the words — steady and simple — the same way he showed up all those early mornings. no pressure. just presence.

and for once, you didn’t feel like you had to carry everything alone.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the sun barely cracked through the morning clouds when the chaos began.

“kai!” you shouted from the kitchen, one slipper half-on as you fumbled with the coffee maker. “your shirt is on backwards! and your socks don’t match!”

“that’s called fashion,” kai’s voice echoed from the hallway, muffled through a mouthful of cereal. “you’re just not ready for me to become a trendsetter!”

“you’ll become late at this rate,” haruka mumbled beside you, voice still rough with sleep as he poured a second cup of coffee — one for him, one for you — and gently set it near your hand.

you offered him a grateful smile, eyes tired but glowing with soft gratitude. he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, almost instinctively, then leaned against the counter beside you as the morning whirl spun faster.

kai was running through the house, backpack half-zipped, shoes barely tied. “WHERE’S MY ID? I SWEAR I LEFT IT NEXT TO THE TOASTER!”

“you left it on the dog,” ren called from the living room, already holding up his phone with a camera trained on the chaos.

“yep,” hayato confirmed, munching on a granola bar as he pointed to the couch. “he clipped it to choco’s collar. said it’d be safer.”

“choco is a dog, not a locker!” you yelped, running over to unclip the school ID from your very confused golden retriever.

kai was now spinning in circles trying to put on deodorant and his jacket at the same time.

“someone stop him before he applies that to his armpits AND his homework!” umemiya laughed, phone now filming in cinematic mode.

“this is gold,” hayato whispered to the camera, zooming in dramatically. “first day of high school: the documentary. coming soon to theaters near you.”

haruka moved calmly, sweeping up the lunch bento you prepped the night before and slipping it into kai’s open bag, zipping it like it was routine. you handed kai a banana as he passed, catching his forehead with a kiss when he leaned down without even thinking about it.

he groaned like it was the end of the world.

“ugh, mom,” he muttered, though he clutched the banana like it was sacred.

you smirked. “you’re lucky i love you.”

“nah, you love haruka,” he shot back, grinning wide and proud as he slid on his sneakers.

“she loves both of us,” haruka said calmly, squeezing your hand as you grabbed your keys.

kai blinked at the two of you… and despite all his teasing, he smiled. really smiled. that boyish, heart-on-his-sleeve grin you knew wouldn’t last forever — but right now, it was everything.

outside, the sun had broken through the clouds. kai stood by the car, adjusting his bag like he was about to climb a mountain.

you looked at him and exhaled softly. “first day of high school,” you murmured.

haruka wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “we survived middle school. we can survive this too.”

“ready?” kai asked, tapping the car door.

you nodded. “ready.”

“WAIT!” hayato shouted, racing outside with the others. “group photo!”

kai groaned again, but stood between the two of you anyway, letting you all smush together in a laugh-filled, slightly blurry, sun-washed picture.

the camera shutter clicked.

a moment frozen in time.

and just like that, kai’s first day began — a little messy, a lot loud, but wrapped in the kind of love that had been hard-earned and honest. you waved as the car pulled out of the driveway, haruka’s hand brushing against yours as he leaned down to whisper:

“we’re doing okay, huh?”

you smiled.

“we’re doing more than okay.”

｡𖦹°‧ the end ｡𖦹°‧

💬, well guys… THE EEEENNNNDDSD !!!! i tried really hard to keep haruka within his correct character personality im sorry if it wasnt to expectations 😭 !! but i hope you all enjoyed !! THANKS FOR READING SO MUUUUUCH !!!! LUV YOU GUYYYYS !!!

cuties that are invested @ake-min & @cristalania

look here for more reads 📚!

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

Text

sisters

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

TW: minor mentions of violence/parental abuse!! also this is suggestive pls read at your own discretion!!

“so did i grow another head or are you meeting up with sammy later?”

“what? how did you even know about that?”

sukuna lazily leans against you, still half asleep, as he breathes into your neck, a string of unintelligible noises coming out of his throat. you can tell that it’s still too early for him – and that your racket or your absence must have woken him up. you reach up, running one of your hands through his hair, before pressing a halfhearted kiss to his cheek and returning to your typing.

“google calendar.” sukuna responds.

you smile.

“i didn’t realize you actually looked at that.”

sukuna reaches forward, slamming the screen of your computer down, as you roll your eyes and lean against him.

“sukuna.”

“you can study in bed, y’know.” he responds.

“that’ll distract you, with the typing and the shuffling of papers and all that.”

“well, it’s already fucking distracting when i wake up and you’re not next to me, so…same shit.”

you roll your eyes.

“stop being dramatic. i could easily spend the weekend at my own place and you’d sleep just fine.” you respond.

“no, i wouldn’t. you basically live here now, i’d obviously notice if you just disappeared.” he deadpans.

you pause, clutching your pencil in your hand, before spinning it around in your palm. you can feel sukuna lean off of you, your silence clueing him in, as he now intently stares at you with his brown eyes, drowning in irritation. he’s clearly awake now.

“what are you thinking about?” he asks.

“nothing.”

“well, it’s certainly not nothing. and i’m almost positive it’s something annoying because you’re not telling me.” he responds, poking into your cheek.

you sigh.

“should i be paying rent? because…i really am here all the time…s’kind of unfair if you’re the one paying for the place when i stole all of your closet space and your bed and –”

“you’re making it sound like you’re such a nuisance to me. contrary to your beliefs, i actually love that you’re using my closet and that you take my jackets sometimes. and in my opinion, the only place you should be is in my bed anyway, so.”

sukuna can tell that you’re not really buying it.

“can you let me cover our groceries? i literally eat all of your food too. and –”

“it’s our food. i made it for you.” he complains.

“i’m probably emptying out your bank account and you’re just letting me. you should just –”

sukuna reaches for your legs, before sliding you sideways on the chair so that you’re facing him. and he takes his residence in between your legs, cupping his hands around your face, and angling your chin up so that you’re looking at him.

“you’re about to graduate. how about…you start splitting rent with me when you aren’t living in your dorm and you’re officially living with me? it doesn’t make sense to pay for two places right now.”

you bite down on the softness of your cheek.

“are you…asking me to move in with you?”

“you already live here.” he deadpans.

“no. but then we’d have to put me on the lease. i’d-i’d actually live here live here.”

“well, were you really thinking about moving back home? you would hate that.”

“i mean no. but i was going to look for an apartment and roommates and –”

“i have an apartment right here. i would be a great roommate – i feed you and i kiss you when you’re sad, which seems like a win win to me. but if it feels too fast for you to move in with me in a few months, that’s okay with me. i will help you apartment hunt if it comes to it.”

you frown.

“do you think people will judge us for moving in together so fast? i mean, by the time i graduate, it’ll only have been like…like half a year? and we still haven’t –”

“do you think it’s weird?”

“i mean, no but –”

“what other people say doesn’t matter. if you want to live here when june comes around, that’s really no one else’s business. i’m not going to murder you, i won’t be a bad roommate, and that’s kind of all that matters.”

you smile.

“do you want to live with me?”

“you. already. live. here.” he responds.

“no, but like. joint lease. like actually living here. you know you won’t be able to break up with me for like two years because we’ll be stuck here, right?”

“well, i was obviously not planning on breaking up with you, so that won’t be a problem, will it?”

you pause.

“i guess not.”

sukuna gives you a satisfied smile, before dropping his hand from your face to the chain hanging around your neck. you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm as he admires the little charms on the necklace he gave you, running his fingers over them.

“what?” you ask.

“you’re still wearing it.”

“are you crazy? i have to wear this forever now. i’m never going to take it off.”

“okay, but…i do take mine to get cleaned every few months so you will eventually have to take it off.”

you roll your eyes, as you bring one of your hands up to his, and squeeze.

“so…i’m taking your big avoidance of the question as a confirmation that you really are seeing sammy later?”

you sigh.

“yeah. i’ve been trying to make plans with her for two weeks and she was finally able to pencil me in.”

sukuna pulls up the chair next to you, sitting on it backwards, as he leans his chin against the back of the chair. he’s playing with the rings on your fingers, twisting them back and forth, as he listens.

“okay, but why? do i have to roam around in the mall at the same time as you guys just to save you in case she’s a bitch?”

“don’t call her a bitch, sukuna.” you groan.

sukuna’s eyes widen, as he jokingly presses his hands to your face and starts shaking your head.

“who are you and what did you do to my girlfriend?”

you swat his hands off, as you narrow your eyes at him.

“stop it! i’m just…trying to be nicer to her. you should be too, she’s still my sister.”

“wow. what brought on this sudden need to reconcile with the devil?”

“sukuna!”

“okay, okay, i’m done.”

you pause, leaning your cheek against the cold tile of the kitchen island. it bites into your skin, the shrill cold making the hairs on the ends of your arm stand up.

“you know how we hate that yuuji is so…so one track minded when it comes to you and me? how he kind of pushes his own feelings into what he thinks about us and that…that a lot of them are really immature things from when you guys were kids?”

“yeah.”

“it would be hypocritical of me to hate yuuji for doing that when i do the same thing to my own sister.”

sukuna raises his eyebrows.

“do you?”

“i think so. i’m just…i don’t know. i feel like dating you has made me more self aware.”

“well, obviously. i’m the epitome of emotional intelligence.”

“shut up! i was just saying because…well, i know why yuuji harbors so much dislike for you now that you’re dating me.”

sukuna pauses, leaning forward like he’ll almost miss it if he isn’t close enough to hear it.

“he thought it was really careless when you left for europe, that you just thought about yourself and no one else. he thought it was really unfair because he still needed you to be there for him and you weren’t anymore.”

sukuna can feel the guilt pooling in his chest.

“but now that i’m dating you…and i know why you left, i feel like he’s really immature. i know that yuuji needed you but you were still a kid too. it wasn’t your responsibility to take care of him and he can’t get mad at you for that. you were your own person and you picked what was right for you.”

sukuna reaches forward and cups one of your cheeks. you lean into the warmth of his hand, before pressing a kiss to his palm.

“that’s why i hated sammy. that she would try to be fake and act like she was the best, when i knew she was getting drunk every weekend in highschool. i…i was always embarrassed because really, i just wanted her to take care of me the way you took care of yuuji. but that wasn’t her job and really, she still did that when it really mattered, anyways.”

“what do you mean?”

“that time i told you about, where i got caught in that car with mazzy and got in trouble. they called my mom, but…but sammy was the one who picked up. she was the one who came and got me and i had to tell her everything. i was expecting for her to tell me what everyone kind of did at that time, that he was a bad guy so what did i expect from being with him?”

“but?”

“but she just took me home and told me to take a shower. made me a really nice dinner. it meant a lot to me at the time, i-i basically started sobbing when she handed me my food because it just felt so nice to be around someone who just wanted to take care of me. she never even asked me twice about it, just…just kind of did what i needed.”

sukuna presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles.

“we’re older now. i want us to be better and just…be friends at least? i don’t know, i just think i’ve been really unfair to her when i’ve never even stopped to ask her if she needed anything from me.”

“well, you can start by asking her today.” sukuna offers.

you smile.

“yeah. yeah, i can.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“so what i’m hearing is…i’m the best, most self aware boyfriend ever who –”

“oh, calm down, narcissus. just when i think your ego can’t get bigger you go and start staying stuff like that.”

you wait for sammy across from the little donut shop at the mall. you get a set of two donuts – a maple bar for her and a sugar one for you – as you swing your legs over the bench and rehearse your little script in your head.

it felt a little evil given the conversation you had with sukuna earlier in the day, but you had a favor you desperately needed to ask her.

and surely enough, she comes right on time, hands shoved in her pockets as she gives you a halfhearted smile. you jump up, unsure if you should hug her or shake hands and then there’s too much of a pause when you don’t say anything.

“are you okay?” she asks.

“hm? yeah! yeah. how are you? also, i got you a donut. and it’s maple, your favorite! and –”

you pause – too much. but she fills the silence.

“you’re rambling.” she states, as she plops down on the bench.

she shoots you a grateful smile as she picks up the donut from the box, perfectly wrapped in the napkin, and takes a bite out of it. you mimic her motions, maybe scarfing down yours faster than you should have, from the nervousness.

she hates you.

“jesus. is this the first time you ate today? do i have to slap sukuna for not feeding my little sister properly?”

sammy reaches forward, an annoyed look on her face, as she wipes away the sugar around the edges of your mouth – and you shoot her a grateful smile, that she halfheartedly acknowledges, as you lean back on the bench.

“how’d you know about sukuna?”

sammy rolls her eyes.

“kisa. she was going on and on about how the ryomen sukuna is dating sammy’s little sister. half of the town knows by now, including the moms, who are planning to invite you to some big dinner where they start talking about your wedding.”

“huh? my what?”

“you should thank me, bitch. they were actually talking about your grandchildren and i told them that they need to tone it back fifty notches or you both won’t ever talk to them again.”

“well, sukuna definitely won’t if they say that.”

“tell me about it.” she responds.

you shoot her a grateful smile, heart warm that she had thought to advocate for you in the slightest, as you prep yourself to say your entire spiel.

“i asked you a question. is he good to you?” sammy asks.

“what?”

“sukuna. is he good to you or do i have to mutilate him?”

you smile and she returns it back, leaning back in her chair and hiking her legs to her chest.

“really good. i really love him.” you respond.

sammy smiles.

“i know.”

“what do you mean you know?”

“first and foremost, that poor kid has been so hopelessly wet in his pants for you since he was like a kid. do you remember that one birthday where he got you a bike that he built from scratch? second, i did hear him call you a pretty girl that one dinner he came to right before you started chewing him out.”

you cringe.

“oh god. we’re not actually like that – i was being really stupid that day. i just…”

“no, it was really funny. he came back looking like a kicked dog when mom asked him to leave.”

you smile.

“i bet.”

you pause. you had to be honest.

“we actually don’t fight that much, that was just one of the rare times. i just got kind of jealous. of you. when the moms were suggesting that you date him and you were buying into it. i thought he was actually going to do it and i just…got irritated and yelled at him. and trust me, i was even worse when we got home before i calmed down, so…”

sammy scoffs.

“i don’t want to date your boyfriend.”

“i know! it…it was my problem. i clearly have issues with insecurities, especially when it comes to you because of how the moms were sometimes, and i know that it’s my fault.”

sammy raises her eyes.

“what?”

“well, i don’t know. i mean, i feel like i’ve had big problems with what people have thought of me since i was a kid. but i always felt like they liked you better, and that because they liked you they couldn’t like me, and sometimes it made me resent you. and it was unfair, because, because…that’s not really your fault.”

sammy sighs, before demolishing her donut by splitting it in half.

“well, that’s not entirely true.”

“hm?”

“that’s not true. sometimes…i did do it on purpose. sometimes, i got a kick out of the fact that for once that…someone liked me instead of you.”

“you’re kidding.” you deadpan.

“i’m really not though. because you tend to forget, that i didn’t have friends like you did when you were a kid. you met yuuji the first day we moved into that house. sukuna basically followed you around after that. the three of you were friends and…and i was never included. so if the parents were the ones who liked to be around me, then…then that’s where i was going to be.”

you pause.

the worst part of it was that sammy was always your dad’s favorite. and he’s the one who picked up and left.

“you forget that your best friend before yuuji was me, y/n. i’m sorry that i was a bitch to you and maybe made some of your insecurities worse…but you did it to me first. i wasn’t exactly mature at that age so i just…that’s just what i did.”

you lean back, unable to stop thinking about it now. that when you and yuuji wanted to go to the park, sukuna was always the one who took you guys – and that sammy was the one who stayed behind. how you really can’t remember a time where it was ever the four of you, but hundreds of times that sukuna had followed behind you and yuuji under the guise of taking care of you.

and then you feel horrible. because every time you got drunk in highschool, yuuji was always there covering for you, making sure that you made it home safe with water and aspirin in your system, when you almost always found sammy half passed out on the porch before you had to drag her back into the house before your mom noticed.

that maybe, sammy knew exactly how to take care of you that night she had to pick you up, because it was exactly what she had been longing for someone to do for her.

“i’m a really shitty sister, aren’t i?” you ask.

“yeah. but i am too, so…can’t really blame yourself there.”

“are you? because…because i literally abandoned you.”

“and i took it out on you and your friends after the fact so, relax. we’re both shitty people, it’s not a big deal.”

you pause. you suppose that she’s right.

“i was going to ask something really cheesy but i know you’d get really annoyed.” you state.

sammy curls her nose up in disgust.

“like what?”

“well, i was going to ask if we were going to be friends now? and –”

“you exercised the correct judgment. that’s disgusting, y/n.”

but then sammy brings her hand up and rests it against the top of your head, before brushing the stray hairs around your face to the backs of your ears. and you smile, feeling so oddly taken care of that it makes your heart warm.

“god. he really is good for you, isn’t he?”

“who?”

“pablo picasso. obviously, sukuna.” sammy responds, tone bitingly sarcastic.

“why do you say that?”

“dunno. we’re hanging out right now. talking about our feelings. if he makes you realize that you’re jealous of me and indirectly makes us talk about our…whatever…then he must be good for you. that and the fact that he’s been obsessed with you since forever so, he must be on top of the world.”

you smile.

“i don’t know. i kind of thought that some part of me was…ruined after what happened back then. like i came with this big thing that someone else would have to come to terms with if they were going to be with me.”

sammy glares at you, but you can tell that it’s laced with concern. that she thinks you’re being stupid.

“what?”

“i just mean. i always knew i’d have problems from my past relationship in my current one. and that maybe someone wouldn’t love me enough to be patient, because i would struggle so much.”

sammy sighs.

“but?”

“but, he’s so patient. sammy, sometimes i don’t even know what i did to deserve him. he’s…he does things just because he knows they’ll make me happy, even if he hates them, and…and he’s always so understanding about everything. he never pushes, he’s always so sweet and just –”

“it’s what you deserve.”

“what?”

“it’s what you should have had the first time.” sammy states.

you pause.

“yeah. but it almost makes me more grateful for him now. it’s almost like…i had to know the bad to really appreciate the good? and it makes it sweeter? i don’t know, i obviously wouldn’t have wanted it to happen if i had the choice, but i’m just really…really grateful for him.” you respond.

“i’m sure that means the world to him.”

“what do you mean?”

sammy nearly cringes.

“well, you know how his dad was. i’m sure it makes his entire life that someone actually appreciates him.”

you nod.

“i was going to call him after this actually. tell him that if he ever hurts my little sister, who is my friend now, i’m going to cut his dick off. but…same for you. sometimes i forget how much he suffered at the hands of his dad when he was little. he deserves good just as much as you do.”

you feel a shiver down your spine. on a topic you had yet to broach with sukuna. on the times that he’d fight so bad with his dad that he’d spend the night at your house. and the rare occasions where his dad would raise his hands on sukuna and when you had to watch your mom ice his skin from the door of the kitchen.

“you’ll cut my dick off?” you murmur.

sammy snorts.

“shut up. you know what i meant.”

sammy pushes up off the bench, as she gestures for you to join her with her head.

“so what did you need my help with?” sammy asks.

“huh? how did you know?”

“you’re annoying. you’re going to be nice to me but you’re also going to ask for a favor.” sammy states.

“okay, i’m sorry! but i really can’t ask anyone else, all my friends are all…weird about me and sukuna dating so i can’t just be like oh…oh come buy lingerie with me because i have no idea how any of it works.”

sammy raises her eyebrows, fighting the urge to laugh, as you shove her.

“shut up. you’re such a bitch.”

“you guys already hit a short fuse that you need to spice things up? he’s such a dog.”

“what? no, no we haven’t even done it yet.”

“what?”

“well, we had a whole talk. and now that we’ve waited for so long, i want it to be special. for me and him, and…and i want to feel good, okay? not that i think it’ll make me feel good but i just mean it would be nice to do something like that.”

sammy links her arm in with yours, turning on your heel towards the direction of the store, as she keeps laughing. you can feel the embarrassment in your cheeks, irritated, as you elbow her in the side one again.

“stop it!”

“i’m sorry! that’s actually like really cute and fucking romantic. but i can’t just stop laughing at you saying you don’t know how lingerie works.”

“it looks so complicated online. just so many…straps and stuff.”

“okay, okay, relax. my girlfriend loves this type of shit, so i’m basically an expert.”

you try to hide your shock – at sammy saying she has a girlfriend – as she drags you into the store and basically shoves you into a dressing room.

and surely enough, you leave the mall with a light pink set that she insisted on buying for you and a box of condoms that you swiped on your way out from the convenience store across the street.

sukuna comes home to dim lights and the faint smell of lavender. and shockingly enough, you serving dinner, perfectly plating and garnishing it with the little minced greens. he quickly decides that it’s his favorite sight – your eyebrows scrunched in concentration, drowning in one of his old t-shirts.

you feel sukuna’s arms wrap around your waist, as he sags nearly his entire weight around your back, and sighs heavily into your shoulder.

“hi doll face. what’s the occasion?” he murmurs.

you smile.

“does there need to be an occasion for me to do something nice for you?”

“yes. you’re cooking dinner, which is haunting, baby.”

“fine. you can starve then.”

sukuna laughs, before pressing lazy kisses into your neck, and loosening the buttons around his collar.

and throughout the course of the dinner, he can tell that you’re nervous. it would be a little off putting a few months ago, but he knows better by now – that you’re clearly going to ask him something important or say something big to him. and naturally, with how impatient he was, he was going to weasel it out of you.

“how was sammy?” sukuna asks.

you smile.

“good. she said she will cut your dick off if you hurt my feelings.”

sukuna snorts.

“i expected as much. did you give any thought to the apartment?”

“yeah. it makes sense and…and i really don’t care.”

you reach forward, pressing your hand into the warmth of his cheek, and feel your heart flutter at the smile he gives you back. you can feel the nervous anticipation pooling under your skin, entire body warm at the thought of him sitting across from you.

“i really love you, you know that?” you whisper.

sukuna narrows his eyes at you, the whisper of a smile still on his face.

“are you sure you’re okay? we can talk about anything that’s bothering you if –”

“no. no, nothing’s bothering me. really. i just really love you.”

sukuna shakes his head, the lightest pink dusting his cheeks.

“you silly girl.” he scoffs.

you smile.

“i love you more. don’t argue back because you won’t win.”

you shake your head, before reaching into the lining of your underwear, for the condom that you tucked into your skin. and you place it flat on the table, before looking up at him.

“wow. you’re serving condom for dessert? at least tell me it’s flavored.” he asks.

you groan, which earns you him a laugh from him.

“they come flavored?”

“yeah, but…but it’s weird so don’t buy those. also, don’t buy condoms. that’s my job.”

“i don’t know how you initiate these type of things!”

sukuna laughs, before cupping your cheeks with his hands.

“you’re like a cavewoman. initiating sex by giving me a condom. no foreplay? no kissing?”

“i mean, obviously. but like…we always kind of get close to it. i just wanted you to know that i was ready. and that i…”

sukuna grins and it’s enough to make your heart drop to your stomach.

“that you what?” he whispers.

“you know.”

sukuna shakes his head, as he reaches for your waist and pulls you off the chair, and starts dragging you towards his room.

“i don’t know, y/n. you have to tell me, princess.”

you feel your cheeks burn, as you press your hands to your sides.

“well…i want you.”

“is that right?”

“sukuna.” you whine.

sukuna locks his hands around your waist, as you lift yours around his neck, nervously crumpling the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you look up at him.

“i’m done teasing. you just make it so easy, baby.”

you bite your lip.

“well, i kind of like it. so you…you don’t have to stop.”

sukuna smiles, before leaning his forehead against yours.

“more of that, okay? you tell me what you like, more importantly what you don’t.” sukuna whispers.

you nod.

“safe word.” sukuna states.

“um…worm?”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“and what if i wanted to call you my pretty little worm? then what?”

“if i take all my clothes off and you even think about calling me a worm, i’m never speaking to you again.” you respond.

sukuna laughs, before giving you a nod, and leaning forward to close the distance before you. you can tell that he’s moving slow, tiny steps backing you up before you fall back onto the bed, and he’s hovering with his necklace dangling over you.

and his voice is quiet as he peppers kisses into your cheek and neck, so soft it makes your stomach rumble.

“just so you know, it does hurt the first time. need you to tell me, don’t feel embarrassed. and i –”

“i know. i know, i will.”

sukuna smiles, before hooking his fingers under the fabric of his t-shirt, before he carefully pulls it out from under you. and maybe it’s the sheer embarrassment that you went out of your way to buy lingerie – but you pinch your eyes shut when you catch the realization in his eyes.

“up.”

his voices comes out more gravelly than you’ve ever heard it, as you open your eyes, skin burning, as you give him a confused look.

“sit up, doll. let me look at you.” he whispers, this time more fervent.

you oblige, sitting up on the edge of the bed, as he kneels onto the ground, hands fixed on your waist, as he looks up at you. you cringe, shrinking your shoulders together, as you look down at him.

“too much?” you ask.

sukuna scoffs.

“are you fucking crazy?” he responds, tone dripping with disbelief.

sukuna stands up this time, pulling you up with him, as cradles your face with his hands, eyes so sickeningly sweet that it makes you smile.

“my perfect girl. what did i do to deserve you, huh?” he murmurs.

“what?”

“the dinner, the candles. this fucking set you bought. you ruin me, you know that?”

you shake your head, as he drops his hands, admiring the lace. and he lifts one of his fingers, making the gesture for you to spin, as you oblige, and get a barrage of kisses in response.

“i’m obsessed, you know that? with this, with you, with your smell.”

you smile, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck, as you shake your head, and he takes the hint to slow down. you relax into his arms, nervously toying with the buttons on his shirt, as you calm down, trying to ease the nerves, as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“i’m guessing you…you like it?”

“like it? i love it. it’s special to me.” he murmurs.

you look up at him, as he drops his gaze to yours, lovingly running his hands through your hair.

“really? you don’t think it’s cheesy right?”

sukuna shakes his head.

“s’really special. never had someone put in this much effort to make me feel special. i was supposed to be doing all of this for you, y’know? was planning it all out too.”

“really?”

“yeah. was gonna get you a whole weekend getaway for your birthday. whole rose petals on the bed and everything.”

you laugh.

“what the fuck is so funny? it’s romantic.” he complains.

“no, no it’s so cute! but you have to let me be the romantic too sometimes. i wanted to do all of this for you…and me too. i mean, i just –”

“i understand, princess. you’re perfect.” sukuna responds.

you pause.

“you can tell me if you don’t want this right now. i know i made us dinner and made it a whole thing with the outfit, but really, you don’t have to oblige just because i –”

sukuna responds by closing the distance, lips warm against yours as he pushes you back onto the bed, for a second time.

sukuna brings you two advils when you’re soaking in the bath. you can still feel your blood pulsating under your skin, the tiredness seeping into your bones as you lean back against the tile, with the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles.

and you can’t help but feel your skin burn when he walks back in – unable to stop thinking about how his head was just nestled in between your legs, of all the sweet nothings leaving his mouth, and the gentle way he carried you here after running the bath for you.

he crouches down by the side of the tub, holding his hand out for you as you oblige. he lifts the cup to your mouth, refusing to let you hold it, as you down the pills.

“i can’t hold my own glass now?”

“it's aftercare. shut up.”

he makes the motion to stand up and you reach out, slapping your wet hand around his wrist and pulling.

“you okay?”

“yeah. yeah, but can you stay?”

sukuna nods, as he sits flat on the tile of the bathroom, leaning his head against the side of the bath. he was intent on giving you the time to process and relax, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more to stay there, to possibly never leave your side again, and is pleasantly surprised by your request.

“bath okay?” he asks.

“yeah. thanks. for the pills too.”

“promise it’ll hurt less next time, yeah?” sukuna murmurs.

you nod, poking at the little indents of his dimples. you can’t help but admire him, the lightest sheen of sweat still stuck to his forehead, at the arch of his back and the tattoos littered over his skin as he lazily places his hand in the water and lets the soap run through his fingers.

“did you like it?” sukuna asks.

“are you a nut job?”

“i mean, what did you like? just so i keep it in mind for next time. s’my job to make you feel good, y’know?”

you smile, before feeling your chest ache.

“all of it.” you respond.

sukuna shakes his head.

“nope. specifics.”

you lean back, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair, as you think it over.

“well, i liked it when you would hold my hand. it made me feel really comfortable…and when you would ask before doing something different.”

“uh huh. what else?”

“um…the stuff you called me.”

sukuna grins.

“like what?”

you groan.

“you know…the usual stuff!”

“you like it when i called you my good girl, right? when you were taking me so well?” sukuna asks.

you can tell that he’s trying to irritate you and lightly splash the water at him.

“sue me! i like to be praised by my boyfriend!” you respond, glaring at him.

sukuna shakes his head at you, before reaching for your hands and pressing kisses to your knuckles. the spots he marked on your neck are starting to purple up now, as he reaches down for his own that you left.

“i liked it when you did this.” sukuna responds.

you smile.

“i’ll cover it up before you go to work tomorrow.”

“i liked all the pretty sounds you made. i go insane when you say my name.”

you shake your head, before splashing the water at him.

“quit it.”

“really. i love it all. i love you.”

you deflate. sammy’s comment from earlier, the harsh memory of him with his eye purpled over on your dining room table, runs through your mind, as you lean forward, and press a kiss to his shut eyelids.

“yeah, yeah. i love you too.”

sukuna smiles, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your knee.

next part linked here

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