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apollyonsdarksecrets · 2 years

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A part of you, a part of me

Summary: Joel’s been down this road before, he’s seen all the signs, and he knows before you ever do that you’re pregnant.

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, unplanned pregnancy, crying, fluff, pre-outbreak Joel. Established relationship, cream pie, pet names, cussing, pregnancy tests, just a bunch of happiness because that’s all Joel deserves in this world. 💜😭

A/n: I can’t say Joel has a breeding kink… but I can certainly say he makes me have one 😌

Joel Miller Master List

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Joel remembers everything from Sarah’s mother’s pregnancy, all of the signs that lead up to them finding out. And surely enough it was beginning to show in you.

It started one autumn morning, when he woke up to find you nestled in beside him, face pressed into his chest, snoring slightly, hair in disarray. You were the picture perfect definition of someone getting the best sleep of their lives.

The only reason it concerned his was the fact that you never slept in past 6. You were always up before Joel, making breakfast for him and Sarah and more often than not Tommy, taking Sarah to school with a sweet kiss to his lips before you’d dash off to work yourself.

Brushing the hair from your face he whispers softly, “Honey?” You grumble something unintelligible, pulling a smile from him. “Honey it’s 7:20.” You’re slow to open your eyes, hazy and still leaded with sleep as they focus in on him, his dark hair sticking up around his head like every morning, “You okay?”

“M’ just really tired… think you can take over this morning?” You whisper, reaching up and cupping his cheek, the stubble of his beard scratching your palm.

“Of course baby. You need me to call work? Want a day to relax?” You smile at his concern, knowing he’s already gearing himself to go the extra mile to make sure you start to feel better.

“That would be really nice.” He kisses your lips gently before leaving you to sleep in, and you end up sleeping most of the day away.

Joel’s quick to notice that you start to get more tired as the days progress, usually a morning person you were now sluggish and downing two cups of coffee just to stay alert, you’d stay in bed a little longer and go to sleep a little earlier.

Initially he’d chalked it up to being stress at work, you were an associate for a designer company, making all the hotels and houses around here ‘fancy looking’ as he would say. It was a big, busy job that you were very passionate about.

But then came the emotions and cravings, not anger or frustration like Sarah’s mother, but you cried, and you cried a lot. The alarm bells should of gone off when he found you one night in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. You were sitting at the counter crying, no you had been sobbing, and Joel feared the worst until you blubbered out that you just really, really wanted ice cream.

Him finding you like that only embarrassed you more, adding to the water works as he dragged you in for a tight hug, smoothing his hands up and down your back.

“I-I think I’m just PMSing.” You hiccuped bashfully, hiding your face against his chest as he kissed the brown of your head.

“It’s okay, we will go get some tomorrow, it’s Saturday and we can take Sarah with us to the little parlor in town.”

Two months in to your sudden changes is when it all came to a head, he wasn’t being nosy, had actually just walked into the house about to announce himself when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t know Jenny, works been stressful, I definitely haven’t been eating right and I just don’t have the energy to go to the gym like I use to. Hell even my periods plying hide and seek with me. I thought about making a doctors appointment-“

Whatever else you say is lost on him as he stops dead in his tracks, his muscles tensing and mouth drying up. He makes his legs move, taking him around the corner and into the kitchen. You don’t notice him at first, giving him the perfect opportunity to just look at you, to really look at you.

At the sake of sounding corny… You really were glowing, face a little rounder, body filling out in different ways, curves softening under your clothing. The changes were slight, not so prominent yet, but he can see it.

His heart speeds up, emotions rolling through him like the ocean in a storm.

You are pregnant.

Walking closer he catches your attention, making you crack a wide smile that has his knees going weak. “Hey, Jenny, Joel just got home I’ll talk to you later… love you too, bye.”

Setting the phone down, you go to stand but Joel’s in front of you, dropping to his knees and capturing your hips in his hands. You let out a startled yelp, hands coming to rest on his arms squeezing gently.

“As adventurous as I am, I don’t think the kitchen is t-.”

“We need to talk.” His serious expression extinguishes your excitement, panic flashing through you instantly.

“What’s wrong? Is Sarah okay? Tommy?”

“Yes, they are fine, we need… we need to talk about you.”

“Me? Honey I’m fine, what do you mean?” Nervous laughter bubbles up in your throat, mind racing in every possible direction this conversation could go.

Joel rolls his lips together, glancing to your stomach then back to you. Your face is contorted with confusion, your grip tightening on his arms. “When… how long has it been since you’re last period?”

You scoff at his question, eyes rolling slightly as your posture relaxes. “Baby I don’t know, I haven’t been tracking it like I usually do. Between Carol and Tray calling out of work I’ve been given both of their projects to present, that’s two on top of my other two. And -.” You roll your eyes, temper rising, “and get this, two of them are so within three hours of each other, now how in the world am I supposed to-.”

“Darlin’.” Joel cuts off your rambling, one large hand shifting to your softer stomach, rubbing slow circles as he watches the confusion melt into realization and then back to panic as your eyes drop to your stomach.

“N-no… no Joel we.. we always use condoms.”

He gives you a look that says you’re lying through your teeth, which you are, there has been a few times over the past couple of months, after you’ve both had one to many drinks where you’ll wake up in the morning, slick between your thighs.

Joel watches your face pale, body shaking in his grasp and he pulls you a little closer with the hand on your hip. “How long?”

Swallowing you finally look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, expression pinched with… worry? Upset? Is he scared? Your own fears rise eyes flicking between his and something in his chest cracks open at the look on your face.

“M-maybe two months… I-I really don’t k-know.”

He nods, rubbing slow circles into your stomach, already knowing but needing to be sure. “Let’s take a trip to the store okay?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You’re both quiet sitting on Joel’s bed, two positive pregnancy tests laying in between you. You are fighting back tears, stiff and trembling, waiting on Joel to blow up.

You’ve only been dating for three years, kids have never been a topic of discussion seeing as Joel already has Sarah, he’s been through the baby phase. Then there’s the fact you don’t officially live with him, though you’re apartment in the city is only visited when you need to do laundry. Almost every moment of the day is in this house or at work… does that me this will change everything?

“I’m… I’m so sorry Joel.” You finally whisper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.”

“What?”

“I should… I should of been on the pill, I should of been more careful… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” The absolute devastation in your voice makes Joel move, kneeling down in front of you like earlier, this time his hands are on your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your changing belly.

“Don’t you dare talk like that, you didn’t do anything to me. Yes I’m scared, I’m scared shitless but fuck baby… I’m over the moon.” Your watery eyes dart to his and he’s smiling, joy shining in his soft drown eyes making something inside your body relax for the first time in hours. “Now… I know-I know we didn’t plan this but I mean… This is us. This right here.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your stomach making you giggle breathlessly. “This is a part of me and a part of you that… God it’s so wonderful and you’re so wonderful and I love you so much, I love this so much.”

Tears brim his own beautiful eyes, hands gently squeezing your sides, curling into the fabric of your tank top as he searches your tear streaked face. “You my sweet girl, are going to be the most amazing mother.”

Whatever reservations, whatever doubts you were holding onto flood from your body with the shaky breath that escapes through your trembling lips, and without thought you lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss, one that pours every little emotion you don’t know how to communicate into him.

Joel stands, lips never leaving yours and pushes you back gently onto the bed, fitting himself between your legs as the kiss slowly turns hungry. You’re burning from the inside out, tears still escaping down your cheeks, as Joel settles himself over you, mindful of his weight.

“Shhh don’t cry honey.” He breaths, lips moving down to your jaw, working the skin with sloppy kisses.

You tilt your head back, body thrumming with sudden need. “H-happy tears.” You manage to squeak out, hands tugging at his t-shirt wantonly. “Joel… I want you, please I want you.” You beg, arching your back pressing your hips up against him searching for some form of friction.

“I know baby, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” He mumbles against your throat, a hand finding your pajama shorts and tugging them down, exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. He sits back, pulling your shorts over your ankles with a low growl. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me already.” Joel swipes a fingers through your folds, gathering your juices and circling your clit.

You whine into the air, closing your eyes as another pulse of arousal shoots through you, heart hammering against your ribs. “Please… Don’t tease me please.” The tears now streaming down your cheeks are out of desperation, your hands finding his belt and yanking at the worn leather.

Joel only chuckles with a shake his head, helping you unbuckle the belt and open his jeans, shoving them down far enough for his cock to spring free. You groan at the sight, letting your legs fall further open as you grab a fist full of his t-shirt pulling him to you.

“Need my cock that bad baby? Can’t wait any longer?” He groans as he runs the tip along your soaked folds, bumping your swollen bud making your hips jerk.

You shake your head, watching his cock as he slowly presses the head into your opening, your lip caught between your teeth.

“Hey,” Joel’s fingers find your chin, lifting your gaze to his and he feels like he might blow his load then and there. Your eyes simmer with pure lust… pure list and want and love and your looking up at his through your long lashes making his breath hitch in his chest. “Eyes on me when I fuck you, wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum.”

“Y-Yes sir.” You nod weakly, head resting back on the pillows as you hook your ankles around his waist.

“What a good girl you are.” He slowly thrusts in, savoring how you stretch around him, always so tight and warm. A low moan falls from your lips, legs tightening around him encouraging him to go deeper and he obeys, sinking into you completely.

You both stay still for a moment, breaths labored and hearts pounding. Joel keeps himself propped up with one hand, the other pushing your shirt up just under your breasts, finding its place on your small bump.

Joel pulls out half way before sinking back in, moaning and closing his eyes briefly as he finds his pace, deep and slow making your eyes roll and body languid below his. You can feel each bump and ridge of his cock, rubbing your walls in just the right way that your orgasm builds quickly. “So pretty, always wanted to put a baby in you, never thought I’d get the chance.” Your pussy squeezes around him your soft whimpers follow. “Yeah? You like that?”

“F-fuck… yes Joel… yes.” Your grip tightens on his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as pressure begins to build in the base of your spine.

His voice drops, the timbre in his drawl making your blood thick in your veins, head heavy and empty. “Just gonna have ta’ keep you pregnant then, barefoot in ma kitchen, swollen with all my babies.” Joel’s thrusts speed up, his mental image of you driving him closer and closer to his own orgasm. “I need to feel you cum for me, cum on my cock baby.”

His fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you nearly scream, the pressure radiating out into your abdomen pulling your muscles tight. You nod feverishly, panting out some form of yess and please, teetering on the cusp of oblivion, just for him.

Joel groans, eyebrows drawn together and thrusts turning sloppy, he can feel your pussy spasming around him and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“Let it go baby, let it happen, cum on my dick like the good girl you are.”

And it snaps, the tension flooding from your body as your orgasm erupts, a silent scream forming your lips into that perfect O shape that Joel loves so much, and as your cunt clenches down on him he stills, rope after rope of thick cum painting your quivering walls. He moans loud and deep, a shudder raking through his body as his eyes close and he basks in the euphoria washing through him.

Your legs shake around his twitching hips, whining pitchy and out of breath and Joel finally moves his fingers from your sensitive clit, splaying his hand across your stomach.

“You’re gonna be such a good mama.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You both wait until after your first doctors appointment to tell Sarah and Tommy, over a lovely family meal.

“This is so good.” Sarah mumbles out around a mouth full of homemade lasagna making everyone laugh.

“Thank you, it’s my mamas recipe.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours, a smile tugging at his lips as your heart pounds in your ears, ready to spill the beans like you’ve planted. “I hope one day I can pass it on to you and your little sibling.”

It takes Sarah a minute, but Tommy stops eating immediately, his eyes growing wide, head wiping up to look between you and his brother, the smile that spreads across his face makes your heart warm.

“Ooo I’d love to try and cook it with you some time, I like learning new…” The realization dawns on her then, her jaw dropping open, shock taking over her expression and Joel can’t help but laugh.

“Really?” Sarah turns to you, and you’re already nodding, tears filling your eyes at the same time hers do. “I’m going to be a sister?”

“Oh honey…” She’s out of her chair and crashing into your open arms in an instant, crying against your chest as you bury your face into her curls, holding on tightly.

Tommy embraces Joel, patting his back roughly as Joel beams, watching his two girls over Tommy’s shoulder. This moment, this instances is all he’s ever dreamt of.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller #smut #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #apollyonsdarksecrets #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #the last of us smut #Joel Miller breeding #pregnancy #happy

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lisired · 7 months

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honeymoon avenue

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, a pinch of angst, fluff, stuck in an elevator with your ex-fiancé, exes to lovers, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)

summary: A year ago, wedding bells were ringing and you were screaming, “Yes!” at the top of your lungs. Last Christmas, you were supposed to be wed under a mistletoe. This Christmas, company finds you in the form of your ex-fiancé that broke off your engagement after you’re both inconveniently trapped in an elevator.

word count: 12.3k (complete opposite of a slow burn)

a/n: inspired by honeymoon avenue and my everything by ariana grande, undo (back to my heart) by tinashe, and ice queen by baekhyun. ‘tis the season! (it was xmas when this was originally posted lol). as always, feedback is appreciated!

Last year around this time, you had arranged to be wed. You recalled restlessly counting down the days until your lover would meet his lips to yours in front of all of your friends and family once granted the greenlight to kiss the bride.

You had everything planned down to a “T.” The banquet hall would be emerald and burgundy. There would be an arch above you where a mistletoe would hang. The wedding cake would have Jaehyun’s surname. And everyone’s attire would be formal, though seasonal.

It was supposed to be the best day of your life.

A winter wonderland wedding seemed like an apt choice for you. You were so, so cold, but there was still an air of warmth to you. Now, your heart was unthawed.

This Christmas - much like the last - you would be alone.

It stung knowing you would be lonely for the second Christmas in a row and there was nobody at fault but yourself. You were miffed at your own behavior, but gave yourself no time to dwell on the past, doing what you knew how to do best - work until your brain went numb.

There was plenty on the roster today. A corporate meeting, phone calls to answer, and reports that wouldn’t type themselves. And that was to be brief. Speaking of which, you needed to brief employees about new protocols.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you chanted impatiently to yourself, tapping your foot against the floor. The elevators in your apartment were running later than usual today.

You heaved a breath of relief when the doors chimed open. Out went a group of people and in went you. Maneuvering your body to press the first floor button, you came to a halt when you noticed it was already selected and gleaming.

That was when you finally noticed the man in the elevator - the only other person there with you - glancing down at his phone. You leaned against the railing and shifted your attention to the door nonchalantly, writing off the stranger as the very least of your concerns. Getting to work on time was paramount.

As it always was.

Morning traffic is going to be brutal, you thought with a grimace. Every thought in your head revolved around work and how long it would take you to get there.

It would seem you would have no time for your morning coffee run. You remembered those times when you’d stay the night at Jaehyun’s, waking to a hot cup of coffee that he’d made just the way you liked it waiting for you.

Four words would permanently be etched into your memory. Have a good life.

With some disdain, you bade the thought retreat. Jaehyun was no longer a part of your life and you doubted he would want to be ever again. Not that you blamed him. It was your punishment alone.

The elevator gave a jolt and you gripped the elevator for dear life, screeching, “What the…?”

The floor indicator donned the number one in a big, bold shade of red, though ironically, the door gave not an inch. Which was odd. You pressed the button that ostensibly opened the door in these types of situations, but to no avail.

“Are we stuck?”

Your head snapped behind you and you nearly broke into a cold sweat when you noticed that the man lone in the elevator with you was no other than your ex-fiancé.

Living in the same apartment complex as the man you were once fated to marry was no easy feat, but the multiple years of seeing each other made it simpler to avoid him. For one, you knew one another’s routines and thus what time to be out the door either before or after the other.

That said, you had seen Jaehyun a couple of weeks ago, but the last time you’d spoken was when he returned all of your things from his apartment. Have a good life. Those were the last words he’d exchanged with you.

That had been approximately a year ago, a couple of weeks before Christmas and the day you were supposed to say, I do.

“Appears that way,” you replied, clearing your throat.

Jaehyun had his phone in his pockets now. You held your breath as you gave him a once-over. He was still handsome as ever, though that was to be expected. As far as you were concerned, he looked more or less the same as the last time you’d spoken, only his hair was a little lengthier. He still looked rather displeased to see you.

And he was wearing a suit. Which meant he was most likely also trying to go to work.

You frowned. Now you were thinking about Jaehyun in suits. Needless to say, that was a sore spot.

A voice came over a speaker and you recognized it as Yangyang’s, one of the apartment staff. He spoke like he was reading from a textbook, “Passengers, do not be alarmed. Our technical team will be arriving shortly to repair the service. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

You mused aloud, “Can he hear us?”

“Loud and clear,” Yangyang chirped.

“How long will it be before someone can help us?” you asked, never keen on being late.

“I can’t say, ma’am. Anywhere from fifteen minutes and a couple of hours.”

You interjected to screech, “A couple of hours?”

Jaehyun clamped a soothing palm on your shoulder to calm you down. It was almost embarrassing how effortlessly his touch could ease you even a year after he broke off your engagement.

Yangyang explained in his usual exuberant tone, “The weather and usual early traffic may cause a delay, ma’am. They will be arriving as swiftly as possible and servicing is already underway by our maintenance staff.”

“Thank you, Yangyang,” Jaehyun said, smoothing his palm down your back.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Jung. You too, ma’am.”

You heaved a breath. “So, it looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

“Hopefully not that long,” Jaehyun said, recouping his hand.

Though it stung, you understood. It went without saying that being trapped in an elevator with the ex that abandoned him was not part of today’s plan. He may have called off the engagement, but you were the one that left him high and dry.

You broke his heart. Not only that, you stole his future. Everything he ever dreamed of, a wife and children, was thrown out the window because of your selfishness.

Jaehyun recognized you would both be stuck together for a while and rather than sit in awkward silence, he asked, “How’s life?”

Darn him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the last words he had said to you out of your head. Have a good life.

The breakup was bitter and stone-cold. Jaehyun made a couple of things unmistakably clear with those four words alone. For one, he was cutting you out of his life for good. And he no longer desired to be imprisoned within yours, being punished for no good reason at all.

And you never fought him - never fought to win him over. Maybe because you had already known for some time that your engagement was in danger. It was beyond reclaim. Irrevocably damaged.

Never one to appear weak, you said, “Good. Really good. I was promoted to secretary.”

Jaehyun perked up. You got what you wanted. But did I deserve to be the sacrifice, baby? Was it worth it?

“Still a workaholic I see.”

You frowned. “Old habits die hard. How have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Jaehyun said. “I wasn’t promoted or anything, but everything’s been pretty good over here.”

You had no doubts. Jaehyun was an editor and his line of work gave him plenty of leeway. For the most part, he worked from home, though there were instances where he came into the workplace. At least, when you last spoke, that is.

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” you said, willing yourself to smile. A part of you was strangely bitter. It didn’t want to see him happy without you.

Though you no longer followed each other, Jaehyun still popped up on your Instagram homepage every now and then. And perhaps you’d searched his page more times than you cared to admit. Everything about his page was achingly sentimental and reminiscent of your past together.

Pictures of him at museums or bridges at nighttime or parks with his hair whipping through the breeze. Once upon a time, you were the one taking those pictures of him. Now, you wondered who was behind the camera, living the life you’d carelessly given away.

“Thanks,” was all he willed himself to reply.

Your eyes instinctively fell to your watch and your head fell back as you groaned, “God, I’m going to be late for work.”

Jaehyun fought a snort. “Yeah, me too. At least there’s still some good news.”

“Like what?”

“It’s warm in here,” Jaehyun commented lightheartedly.

You chuckled. What a way to relieve the tension. Though Jaehyun never failed to make you laugh with ease. Except for when you broke up. Nothing was funny then.

Those weeks leading to the breakup may have been worse than the day it actually happened altogether. The feeling of knowing something was inevitably bound to happen yet being unable to prevent it was arguably worse than the emptiness you felt when Jaehyun announced he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

Emptiness numbed you to the pain for a couple of days. You couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. All you could feel was a bitter, nipping cold enveloping you, eventually splitting you right down the middle.

Jaehyun subtly eyed you as you typed a message to your boss, warning him that you may have been late for work and telling him to proceed without you. Maybe some things never changed. You were still gorgeous, that was for sure. But you were also still married to your work. Ultimately, that would always prove to be your downfall.

It seemed like only yesterday you were his. He was planning to meet you at the altar, itching to sweep you into his arms and kiss you the moment you were pronounced husband and wife.

You had always been a workaholic. At one point, Jaehyun loved it about you. He never thought your relationship would be foredoomed because of it. Devoted and loyal were two terms that described you strongly.

Although, maybe you had been too devoted to the wrong thing.

Your broken engagement was a prime example of what happened when you applied too much pressure to one thing and neglected the other. It was the wretched result of not finding balance.

Everything you ever hoped and dreamed of flashed before your eyes. Once upon a time, you were both making plans to move into a house together. You wanted a pet. And you were thinking about children.

Now, you were all alone. And you had never felt colder.

For some reason, the absurdity of your predicament hit you merely moments after you sent the text message. It just didn’t seem probable to be trapped in an elevator with your ex-fiancé. Much less alone. You threw your head back and whined, “I mean, what are the odds.”

Jaehyun pitched you a confused glance.

You winded a hand through your hair and elaborated, “Us being stuck in the exact same elevator and forcing ourselves to pretend we don’t mind. If I remember correctly, you had no intention of hearing from me again.”

“I think we should spare each other the awkwardness,” Jaehyun replied, donning an impassive expression. And tone.

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Jaehyun being kind to you should not have been mistaken and was probably more or less because he wanted to avoid as much tension as possible - not because he didn’t hate you.

Jaehyun spoke up again to ask, “How long have we been here?”

You glanced at your phone and read the time. “About fifteen minutes, I guess.”

“So, we’re going to be here for a couple of hours,” Jaehyun quipped, trying to lighten the mood the best way he knew how.

You winced, hoping there was an in between. “Not like I had anything else to do,” you mumbled.

Jaehyun himself wasn’t exactly bummed about missing a day, or at least a couple of hours. Though this was you. He used to joke that hell would freeze over the moment you decided to actually take a day off. “They will survive without you for a while,” he comforted softly.

You scoffed. You were carrying that company on your back. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. The whole building will be in flames if I’m not there within an hour tops.”

“I’m sure,” Jaehyun scoffed. “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you do.”

I have, you thought wistfully. Jaehyun fought harder for your relationship than you ever tried, but enough was enough. He was at his limit, giving more than he was receiving and he couldn’t let you take advantage of him anymore.

Though it was intended to be a compliment, for whatever reason, your heartache was only amplified. You swiftly changed the subject. “So, what are your plans for the holidays?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special. I’m going to spend some time with my family.”

That caught your attention. “You haven’t been seeing anyone?”

Jaehyun only shook his head. He was afraid of opening his mouth and saying something that would make shit awkward again. For all he knew, you two would both be stuck together for potentially the next couple of hours and he did not want to spend it in suffocating silence.

Unfortunately, Jaehyun couldn’t deny that after your engagement was broken off, finding other girls had been hard. They came a dime a dozen, but none of them remained. Even after you were long gone, bits of you lingered, scattered everywhere across his life.

Jaehyun went to bed and thought of nights spent cuddling you to sleep. He visited his favorite cafe and thought of your go-to order. Jaehyun hooked up with other girls and thought of how beautiful you looked writhing underneath him, your voice calling out his name in a cry, dripping with sweet honey.

Though you were forever gone, the memories of you still haunted him everyday. For so long, he had been convinced he was made for you. You were the only woman he ever wanted.

And he couldn’t have you.

Jaehyun commanded the thoughts to go away. You stopped being his long before the breakup. “You?”

“Oh, you know. With my line of work, I just don’t have the time,” you replied bashfully.

That Jaehyun knew all too well. Just a little.

He bobbed his head. “Sounds like you.”

Guilt suddenly plagued your chest. Every second beside him you were reminded of the fact that you were the one who ruined a beautiful thing. You had gotten what you strived for, though in hindsight, the lengths you went to get it were brutal and cold-hearted.

You had sacrificed so much of yourself to get to where you were. And now that you were standing at the top, you could finally see the collateral damage you’d inflicted at the bottom.

There was only a good couple of feet to separate you and Jaehyun. And you absolutely loathed it. There was more distance between you when he uttered those four words permanently etched into your memory, before turning and heading out of your front door.

Jaehyun fancied it no more than you did. Walking away had been hard. He looked back, but never stopped. A year ago, he was convinced that he would have moved on by now. But no matter how far apart you were, his heart was still one of your captives. Not only did he leave a piece of it with you, but the whole damn thing.

He wanted it back. Damn it, he wanted you back. He wanted back every piece of himself he gave you, but above all else, he wanted back what you had. To go back to the way everything was the day he got down on one knee and asked for permission to hold your heart forever.

He remembered like it was yesterday. Earlier that spring, he took you to a bridge. Not only was it one of your favorite spots in the city, but it was where you both first said I love you.

Maybe that was why. Now, you couldn’t bring yourself to visit it anymore. The memories were too painful.

Just like the first time he took you there, night had fallen. The bridge overlooked a river, moonlight cast into the water. Purple lights made the trail glimmer. But the moon was a little fuller, the air a little cooler.

Not that either of you minded. To be with you, he was content.

You were beaming. Even before he proposed. None of you could stop thinking about the night you first said that you loved each other. But when Jaehyun asked you to marry him underneath the moonlight, you were over the moon.

You were chanting, Yes! Jaehyun had to sweep you into his arms and meet his lips to yours to cut you off. A very long time ago, the memory made him smile. Now, it made his heart swell with agony.

His eyes were sad. And understandably a little angry. Even after all these years, you could still read him clear as day. You wondered if he could read you, too. You whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun heaved a deep breath. An apology wouldn’t fix his broken heart and saying you were sorry wouldn’t undo the heartache you inflicted on him. It wasn’t okay. He hated you for leaving him lonely. For choosing your job over a future together. He would never forgive you for it. “I never wanted much. I never wanted all of your time. Only a little was all I was asking for.”

“I don’t want to go there with you, Jaehyun,” you said, exhaling a sigh of your own.

All Jaehyun did was shake his head and murmur under his breath, “Classic.”

A part of you bristled. Why Jaehyun always wanted to hash things out with you was a mystery. Fighting was draining and you never had the energy. A long day of work left you with only enough strength to take a long hot shower before crawling into bed.

Not Jaehyun. He would never understand. The pressure to succeed, the struggle to unlearn the definition of success you were taught even before your adolescence.

A year ago, everything was falling apart in your relationship. You were arguing more, spending time together less. Jaehyun was trying to salvage what was left. In his mind, fighting with you was better than not speaking to you at all.

Most of your memories with him were unforgettable, but when they were bad, they were excruciating to think of. You could still remember the last argument before the uncoupling.

December was still fresh and the air was frigid, numbing your senses until you stepped into your warm apartment. Jaehyun was waiting for you there. A smile tugged your lips when you hung your coat and excitedly bounced into the kitchen, smelling hot chocolate.

“Baby, I’m home,” you sang radiantly. At one point, it used to be your favorite line to say. A lifetime of obsessing over movie cliches was to blame.

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and simpered. You looked nothing less than exhausted, though he found it cute on you. “Hey, my love. How was your day?”

You instantly groaned, “I’d rather not talk about it. Or think about it, for that matter.”

“Will a cup of hot cocoa make it better?”

You propped yourself on the island and flirted, “Made by Barista Jaehyun himself? Of course.”

Jaehyun handed you a mug and you accepted it gracious, muttering, “thank you.” He was the sweetest thing you could ask for. Even sweeter than the hot cocoa warming your palms.

That was how the arguments always began. They were sweet, innocent moments - until they weren’t.

Your lover dipped behind the island and returned with a mug of his own, still steaming with freshly hot cocoa. You thought absolutely nothing of it. Not until he opened his mouth. “How does a date night on Friday sound?”

You frowned. “This Friday?”

“Well, yeah,” Jaehyun said, rubbing his nape. “It’s been a while, you know. Since we’ve gone out on a date.”

That was true. Jaehyun always had some extra time to spare. He wanted to spoil and indulge you at every given chance. But you were always busy. Even when you were off the clock, you were still on the clock. And more often than not, you brought work back home with you.

“I’m so busy and so tired, Jay,” you whispered gently. God knew you wanted to, but you didn’t have the time and much less the energy.

“I get that,” Jaehyun started. “But can’t you take even a day off?”

“I’m aiming for a promotion, Jaehyun. I have to prove myself. My boss has been dangling this shit in our faces for the past few months. I can’t let an opportunity like that slip away.”

Jaehyun was rapidly getting frustrated and reminded, “You do realize we’re getting married in a few weeks, right?”

Your eyes flickered. “Yes, I do. And I plan to be there.”

“At the rate you’re going, I wouldn’t be surprised if you stood me up.”

Your heart sank. “How can you say that?”

“How couldn’t I?” Jaehyun snapped, evidently pained. “We’ve been engaged for the past nine months, but it doesn’t feel like I’m about to get married. It feels like I’m losing you because you’re too absorbed in your goddamn job.”

“Are you asking me to choose you over my job?” you asked, standing to your feet. This entire argument was an affront to your pride.

“No. There is no point in giving you an ultimatum when I already know that you will choose your job every time without hesitation - you already do. I’m asking you to make room for me, but I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You countered, “I do want you.”

“Do you?” Jaehyun snapped, skeptical. “You can’t even go on a date with me. You want a promotion more than anything else.”

You sighed, “I don’t want to fight, Jay.”

“I know that. You don’t want to fight for anything,” Jaehyun said bitterly. “You would rather watch us burn to ash than fight for us.”

Anger plagued you and you were prepared to hurl something back, but he didn’t give you the chance.

Jaehyun added, “I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.”

Your words were cold as ice, “Then, leave.”

And the rest was history.

There was nothing you could say when Jaehyun left you, no fight for you to give. It was you that sent him away. It was you that made him leave. He had only given you what you asked for.

Old habits died hard. The one-year anniversary of both the breakup and the day you were supposed to be married was rapidly approaching and to distract yourself from the pain, you were burying yourself in work. You didn’t want to think about Jaehyun and what you almost had. Not even for a second. And then, today came and ruined everything.

Now, you were being forced to confront the past.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re stronger than this. God, you wanted to be anywhere but here right now. Tears burned your eyes, but you would never let them fall. Not with Jaehyun there. You didn’t want him to see the mess he’d left of you - how miserable you were without him.

You wanted to mend everything back together, but it was too late. Everything was irreparably broken. You had the opportunity to patch things up, and you passed it up. No more time could be wasted crying for the moon.

And still, somewhere deep inside, you knew Jaehyun would steal it for you.

Jaehyun saw your eyes and softened a little. Damn it, they still made him weak. Your tears were made of diamonds and they were priceless. Jaehyun said, “My mother still talks about you, you know. She asks me when we’re going to get back together.”

Your eyes flickered. “That’s… interesting,” you lied. “I thought she would hate me. And be more protective of her baby.” Because I broke your heart.

“You know my mother always loved you,” Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I don’t think anyone believed in us more than her - not even ourselves.”

Somebody had to, you thought weakly. Though Jachyun was a romantic to his core, even he had to eventually throw in the towel.

Everyone thought you and Jaehyun would be the perfect match. Each of your families were anticipating a beautiful wintry nuptial ceremony on Christmas day. And when news of the uncoupling broke loose, your people weren't exactly shocked, but they were heavily disappointed.

You were clearly the problem. Until you learned how to balance, you would never be happy in love. Up until now, you were beginning to become content with that fate.

Though now, your heart was greedy.

Jaehyun’s mother crossed your mind. She was the epitome of an angel and the fact that she still wanted you in her son’s life after all the pain you caused him was deafening. But what about what Jaehyun wanted? Does he even still love me?

Every moment spent with his mother had been wonderful. She spoke fondly of him and vice versa and supported him unconditionally. It was true motherly love and it made your chest stiffen, taut with envy. Ever since you were a kid, you only knew pressure. Your parents wanted you to have the life they didn’t when they were your age, but they were very strict in how they went about it.

Tough love was all you received. They didn’t help you through trying times. You were expected to suck it up. You were taught that tears were a sign of vulnerability and vulnerability was weakness.

You fought them back with everything you had and said, “How does she know I wouldn’t mess things up again?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun told you, not disputing the fact that you had essentially destroyed everything. It stung, but it was the truth. “She says ‘a mother knows best.’”

Jaehyun watched you struggle to hold yourself together. You were good at pretending to be okay and smiling through your pain, but he was even better at seeing through you. He saw you through a lens that only a man who loved you with his whole mind, body, and soul for years could see. He saw all your weaknesses, all your flaws. But he never judged and he saw something else in them, too. What made you beautiful.

“But what do you want?” It was killing you. For as long as you stood there, you needed to know.

“I wanted you,” Jaehyun replied honestly. “But you wouldn’t let me have you.”

You shook your head. “You had me. Every piece of me - it belonged to you.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Jaehyun muttered. “You had my heart, but your work had yours.”

“That’s not true.”

Jaehyun was firm. “It is and you know it.”

“I loved you,” you told him softly.

“Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

You gripped the railing to anchor yourself. It didn’t move, but you could feel yourself slipping into weakness. “I don’t know how to stop, Jaehyun. I think it’s a part of me now. It’s hard to stop doing something you’ve done your whole life.”

I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.

Maybe he was right. Maybe that woman was long gone.

A cloud of melancholy came over you, pouring over you and Jaehyun. He told you somberly, “I could have helped you if you would have let me in. But you were pushing me away.”

“I know,” you said, meeting his dark eyes. “But I wish I would have known back then. I never realized I was breaking us apart. Not until it was too late. I thought I was doing what was best…”

Jaehyun finished darkly, “You were doing what was best for yourself. Not for us.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but quickly accepted he was right and instead said, “I was wrong. I was selfish. I wasn’t considering how any of it made you feel and that’s a decision I have to live with now.”

“Do you regret it?” I need to know if my broken heart was worthwhile.

Your eyes burned. “Every day of my life.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questioned, voice barely above a whisper. “You got the promotion. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I thought it was,” you muttered. Your chest was swelling with self-disgust and agony and anger. Not at Jaehyun, but at yourself. “But when I lost you, I realized that everything I needed was already right there. Until it wasn’t.”

Jaehyun was quiet but pensive. As if he was trying to trace exactly where everything started going wrong.

Even in school, you were devoted. You were the valedictorian of your class. Jaehyun used to steal you away to kiss you behind the bleachers. But you would always be there for his basketball games, cheering him on better than any cheerleader.

High school sweethearts, he thought wistfully. In high school, you won prom king and queen. Everyone thought you would last forever. That only God himself could part you.

How beautiful it was to be young, dumb, and in love.

Jaehyun knew your issues stemmed from your childhood. When you were still in high school, sometimes you had to blow him off to study. He remembered you cancelling hangouts because your parents refused to let you out of their house until you studied until you were cross-eyed. Their house, their rules, was the policy.

But he also remembered those nights when he would hear a knock on his bedroom window and smile when he saw you beaming at him through the glass. One December night, you were crazy enough to sneak out during the nipping cold, shivering and rubbing your arms outside his window.

Though it was many years ago, Jaehyun remembered that night clearly. His mother made you hot cocoa and promised not to tattle. She always had a soft spot for you and held some disdain for your parents. She claimed they worked you too hard.

Everything was so perfect back then. He knew what changed, but he couldn’t understand why. You used to make time for him whenever you could. As the pressures of adulthood caught up to you, it all came to a slow, brutal end.

But why?

Then, leave. Those were the two words he would never forget. They were powerful than the I love you’s - more powerful than the I miss you’s. Your clipped, icy tone, would maybe someday be forgiven, but never forgotten.

A stubborn wound was forevermore slashed on his heart waiting for you to heal it.

You were breaking. Every part of you was crashing down. A familiar ache split your heart right down the middle. “I’ll never forgive myself for throwing away the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone and I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

Your ex-lover was mawkishly nostalgic and sentimental and never said he forgave you, for that would take a while longer, but told you, “I knew I was the second priority in your life after your career. And I was okay with that. Then, it started to feel like I had no place in it at all. I was at the end of my tether, a stranger to the woman I was supposed to marry, and I knew we couldn’t carry on like that, my love.”

My love. That was what Jaehyun always used to call you. Your eyes flickered. “Do you still…?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever completely get over you,” Jaehyun admitted forlornly.

That was when the dam broke. Jaehyun had dismantled you piece by piece and left you vulnerable. You had no strength to fight back the tears rolling down your cheeks.

Jaehyun’s arms, as they always were, were wide open. He pulled you into his warm embrace and let you sob into his chest, smoothing his hand down your back and protecting you from the sharp coldness of your own pain. You were beleaguered to remember the last time you let yourself cry. You let everything pile up until the water pressure became too much.

“Shh. It’s okay. Let it out,” Jaehyun crooned, gently stroking your hair. “You’re not weak.”

There was an ache resurfacing in your body and it was purely unshakable. Your heart was whole, but hollow. Only its pleas to be back with Jaehyun - where it belonged - rang out in the icebound, empty void.

Being in Jaehyun’s arms only made you nostalgic and the pain hit you harder. You thought regretfully of those moments in the past when he would hold you for all to see. And you remembered going to bed and always knowing he was still there, because you would feel his arms still tight around you and smile. Like he wanted to protect you, even while asleep.

You sobbed, “I don’t deserve you.”

Jaehyun gently pushed you back only a little and looked you in your eyes. He wiped your cheeks with his thumb and told you calmly, “You made a mistake. We all do.”

The gesture made you soft and weak. Goddamn it, you were so weak for him. Like your knees would give in any moment now.

“Not like the one I made, though.”

“That’s true,” Jaehyun said. “But do you regret it?”

Your voice wavered, “More than anything.”

“Then, I forgive you.”

You shook your head, not knowing how to accept that. You didn’t deserve forgiveness. You didn’t deserve understanding. But that was the kind of person Jaehyun was.

He deserves someone better than me, you thought somberly. But you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if he found that someone.

“You should hate me,” you said softly, voice cracking. “I broke your heart. I broke us.”

Jaehyun shook his head. “You know what my mother always says?”

“It doesn’t only matter if you break something, but if you’re willing to put it back together,” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of his mother. She always treated you like you were her own.

Jaehyun nodded and asked, “Are you willing to put us back together again?”

You mulled it over. There was no doubt that you were willing. Back then, you were too in your head to notice reality. Now, you were blindsided by pain and regret and inclined to do anything to make it stop. “What it I mess up again?”

“Relationships aren’t perfect. People fuck up and people make mistakes. You’re only human,” Jaehyun told you frankly. “I’ll be there to help you clean it up. But don’t let me pull all the weight. We both have to fight together.”

“Okay.” You knew what you wanted now. It wasn’t that job. It wasn’t a promotion. It was the man that had spent half his life loving you, and would still love you for the other half. “I’m willing.”

Jaehyun smiled. A part of him couldn’t fathom how this was happening. The hole in his heart was steadily being sealed. He pulled you back flush against his chest.

The tension in the air seemed to alleviate then. You could finally breathe again. Being in a tight space with the love of your life didn’t feel suffocating anymore, but closer to relief.

You were talking freely again. You missed just being able to have a conversation with Jaehyun, recalling those times when you would discuss anything under the sun. Long nights of talking the moon away knowing full well you had work in the morning hit you. With Jaehyun, the small talk was skipped. You could discuss anything and everything.

There was no worry, no fear. Sometimes, there would be tension, but never the unpleasant kind. Only moments ago, those times seemed like merely a distant memory. Now, there was hope that you had Jaehyun back.

In his arms, you realized that was where you belonged. It was your safe haven in a world filled with danger. Your secrets were safe with Jaehyun and you were free to be vulnerable, because you knew he would never betray you. No matter what happened between you both, whether you were angry or in love, you knew whatever you told each other would forever remain under lock and key.

“Do you remember the arch?” you asked, wistfully recalling what could’ve been. “I wanted a mistletoe up there. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought of kissing you underneath it for the first time as your wife.”

Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I remember. I also remember you wanted John Stamos to marry us because he was your, and I quote, ‘true first love.’”

You nudged his side. “Hey, I would have also accepted Shemar Moore.”

Goddamn it, now Jaehyun was thinking about kissing you. His eyes fell to your pretty lips, still as enticing as they used to be when you were his. Never had he wanted to kiss you so badly. Like it would heal the wounds caused by missing you.

Can I… can I kiss you?” Jaehyun asked.

You said with no hesitation, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Now that he had your permission, Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to envelop your lips in his. Only then did you realize how much you missed feeling his lips on yours, how much you craved tasting his tongue in your mouth. You had gone so long without, but ironically, he still felt like home. And making out with him felt right as ever.

Jaehyun kissed you so fiercely that he nearly swept you off balance and caught your hips in his arms. Your fingers threaded through his hair, back against the railing. He kissed you to make up with the wasted times he spent with other people. You kissed him to make up for the wasted times you could have spent with each other. To fill the void and patch each other back up.

He taught you what love was. It was letting each other in instead of freezing each other out. It was was building something beautiful together and fighting to protect it instead of letting it all fall apart and into ruins.

Kissing you eased Jaehyun’s heart. His pain was forgotten and he was overwhelmed with his undying love for you. He would never get over you, no matter how hard he tried. A love like the one you had would take more than a lifetime to get over you.

The way you immediately clicked, it was like you knew each other in a past live. Even now, his feelings were unabating. In his next life, it would still be you and only you. Always and forever.

You were so besotted with Jaehyun and the way his lips tasted that neither of you noticed the elevator door opening.

Yangyang cleared his throat. “Um, guys?”

Both of you whipped around, more than a little shocked to see the door open with Yangyang standing in the middle to prevent it from closing on you.

Jaehyun looked at you and asked, “How long have we been in here?”

“Approximately two hours,” Yangyang chirped. “You’re free to go now. By free to go, I mean please exit the lift. As you can see, there’s a bit of a line.”

You looked behind Yangyang and saw a couple of people impatiently waiting to travel upstairs. You lowered your head and flushed. Jaehyun laced his fingers through yours and led you outside of the elevator, smiling like a dumbass. He didn’t care who saw. He couldn’t have been any more happy than he was right now.

“Well, we’re free,” he said once you were both in the clear. Then, he frowned. “But we still have work.”

You winced. “And I wasn’t kidding about the place burning down. I really need to be there. I know how that sounds, but I promise I’ll make it up to you later. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun said, grabbing your wrist and kissing the back of your hand.

Your heart tugged at the gesture. Why’d he have to be so goddamn perfect?

You got on your toes and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, feeling butterflies swimming in your gut. It seemed they had come to visit again. “I’ll see you later, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun told you goodbye and watched you leave. It hurt a little to see you go, but he knew you would come back to him. You always did, even if it took a year and unlikely circumstances.

When you were gone, he turned around and grabbed his phone out of his pockets. He had to tell his mother that maybe she knew best after all.

Night fell. Jaehyun still hadn’t heard from you although you should have been off from work hours ago. A part of him was worried, but he still trusted that you wouldn’t give in to your old habits. It was Friday night. Maybe you were resting and would see him tomorrow.

Jaehyun went into his living room and played some music. The atmosphere reminded him of you. Holding you in his arms and spinning you around. Everywhere he went, he could still hear your voice and laugher ringing in his hair, like the ghost of you was haunting him.

He shook his head. You drove him mad. He accepted that he would never forget you, much less the way it felt to love you.

The doorbell ring and he could barely hear it over his music. Jaehyun didn’t pause it, but went to open his door and was pleasantly surprised to see you standing there.

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asked.

“I told you I would make it up to you,” you said, breath condensing in the air. You gestured to the pair of grocery bags in your arms.

It was Jaehyun’s natural instinct to take them out of your hands, and turning, he said, “Hurry up and come in. It’s cold outside.”

You didn’t need to be told twice and followed him immediately, shutting the door behind yourself. It was warm and cozy inside his apartment, as always. You hung your coat on the rack and glanced around, memories hitting you tenfold, square in the heart. Everywhere your eyes fell, you saw figures of you and Jaehyun.

Dancing in the living room. Movie night marathons on the couch. And racing down the hallway with your lips on the other’s and your hands desperately trying to remove each other’s clothes as you messily stumbled into the bedroom for a long night of loving.

“I see you’ve already set the mood,” you joked when you noticed the music playing, watching him set the groceries on the counter.

Jaehyun beamed. “I wasn’t even expecting company.”

“Sorry for showing up unannounced.” You smiled coyly, approaching the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you. And no, you can’t help, Chef.”

“Please?”

You grabbed a gigantic wooden spoon and pointed at him. “Sit your ass down.”

“Jesus. Alright, then,” Jaehyun said, lifting his arms defensively. Ever stubborn were you. The reminder roused a chuckle from him. “Have it your way then, bossy.”

“I will.”

Jaehyun shook his head, still cheesing like an idiot. You were still iron-willed. That part of you would never change.

You cooked dinner in Jaehyun’s apron and he laughed at how big it was on you. The memories were overwhelming now. It seemed that no matter where you were or what you were doing, his mind would always find a way to remind him of your presence.

But the memories didn’t have to be bitter or painful anymore. He wanted to try again. He wanted a fresh start, a chance to repaint the canvas and a clean slate. As long as you were both determined to make things work, Jaehyun had faith in you and him.

“Dinner was amazing,” Jaehyun complimented, throwing your dirty dishes in the sink to be remembered later. He stepped back over to the island and trapped you in his arms.

You peered up at him, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

Looking into your pretty eyes, Jaehyun couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss you anymore. You made a noise of surprise when he met his lips to yours, caught completely off-guard, but you kissed him back. It would be fighting your instincts not to.

You closed your eyes and let Jaehyun guide you, trusting he would never lead you astray. When he kissed you, he melted away your icebound surface and got under your skin, peeling you back layer by layer. You liked kissing Jaehyun. Way too much. Even now, you could still recall the first time you made out, hiding behind the bleachers on campus yet gigging loud enough for all to hear.

When it came to each other, you both were like moths to the dangerous flames of love. Love would always unite you again. You couldn’t resist those pretty, twinkling sparks of fire. And you couldn’t get enough of the burn.

Jaehyun was confused when you pulled away, but looked into your eyes again and saw a kind of sadness twinkle in them. Your voice was weak, “Why don’t you hate me?”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, baby,” Jaehyun said, finding your hand and squeezing it firmly. “And believe me, I tried. Even if a part of me did hate you, an even bigger part of me will always love you.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were sucking on his tongue again, wet kissing noises tangled in the sound of old school music.

Then, Jaehyun pressed you into the counter, kissing you even rougher. You were riling him up, moaning into his mouth and that noise would never not do it for him. A different kind of fire came over you when you noticed him very impatiently unbuttoning your blouse.

Same old Jaehyun. At heart, he was still the same as the cute boy you fell in love with. You were pleasantly impressed that kissing you alone still got him up.

You broke the kiss again to ask through jagged breath, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“Probably,” Jaehyun replied. Not that he gave a damn. Unless you did, of course. “Do you wanna stop?”

“Jaehyun, I literally have not had sex in over a year. If you don’t fuck my brains out I think I’ll cry.”

Jaehyun chuckled darkly. “That can be arranged.”

You made a noise of surprise when Jaehyun cautiously scooped you into his sturdy arms and lowered you onto the counter. You made out hotly, his hands continuing to quickly unbutton your blouse and yours pulling his shirt above his head.

The sight of his happy trail and toned abs made your core throb. And your mouth water. Your palms involuntarily slicked over them, feeling nothing but hard skin and muscle.

“See something you like?” Jaehyun asked, grinning in the most annoying way possible.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “Still a gym rat, I see.”

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. I still hit the gym with Johnny when we have spare time.”

That you knew. Despite the breakup, you and Jaehyun still had a ton of mutual friends, chiefly from high school. You recalled seeing Johnny post one of his gym visits with Jaehyun not too long ago.

And you also vividly remembered the sight of Jaehyun, donning sweats and a blank tank-top. He drove you absolutely feral. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and his biceps were flexed, showing off his muscle. You would always be a sucker for a burly man that could snap you in half if he so pleased.

Jaehyun expertly removed your bra and tossed it somewhere to be forgotten. He wanted to see your breasts bounce while he pounded you into oblivion. Your skirt followed, but Jaehyun slid your panties to your ankles at a agonizingly slow pace, all the while smiling like an idiot as you gave a needy and impatient whimper.

“You’re already so wet,” Jaehyun murmured, drawing an invisible pair of lines on your bare cunt with his fingers. “Did you miss me that much?”

You whimpered, “Please, Jay.”

Hearing you call out his name like that was all it took for Jaehyun to lose all sense of self-restraint and he spread your thighs apart with tenderness, burying himself between them. You let out a sharp cry, throwing your head back. Some of your best orgasms were the ones when Jaehyun ate you out until you physically could no longer take it and begged for him to stop.

Jaehyun targeted your clit immediately, a testament to the fact that he knew your body intimately. Your thighs clamped around the sides of his head, unaccustomed to the pressure.

He merely clasped your thighs in his palms and held them freestanding, undeterred as he continued to lap at you like with the hunger only a untamed beast could have.

“Fuck,” was all you could say, curses dangling from your lips. You had been touch-starved for over a year and the familiarity of Jaehyun’s touch was overwhelming in the best way possible.

Despite the fact Jaehyun handled you gently, with love and tenderness and nothing but, he ate you out like an animal.

Jaehyun longed for the taste of you, arousal gathering on his tongue. He loved unraveling you like this. You could never stay still, much less quiet when he was going down on you. The sight of you, head angled back and moaning his name nearly made him cum in his pants.

Your fingers clamped locks of his hair and Jaehyun groaned, somehow spurred on by the gesture. You were making noises left to right, feeling yourself nearing your peak in record time. A year of no sex factoring in a skilled partner would absolutely do that to you.

Your lover learned to recognize you at the threshold of release a very long time ago and briefly parted from your pussy, substituting his mouth with his fingers as he sang, “Just let go for me, baby. It’s okay.”

It was clear that your body had every intention of obeying him. Naturally, it submitted to Jaehyun, with no fear and no reluctance. He knew it and it knew him.

“Oh my God. Jaehyun,” you moaned, thighs twitching. Not wanting to hurt him, you clamped your nails into the counter, eyes closed as the pressure threatened to consume you from head to toe.

Jaehyun talked you through it, whispering, “Do it for me, baby. Just let go.”

Not too much longer, orgasm seized you, rendering you weak and defenseless. You had no strength in your body to fight it even if you wanted to, weakened by his touch. Your toes clenched and you cried his name, fingernails scraping the island roughly enough to damage both your nails and the countertop.

Jaehyun didn’t stop eating you out until you went rigid, chest undulating. You looked a hot mess, heaving for breath and your lips parted, easing the airflow.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked when he moved from between your legs, fighting off a smirk at the sight of you completely disheveled.

“Not until you fuck me,” you rasped, still needy in spite of still trying to catch your breath.

Jaehyun snickered and tugged his pants down, underwear soon giving chase. You positively gawked when you saw his bare, thick dick. It never failed to make your mouth water. And your body tremble with release.

You kept your nails at your sides as Jaehyun lined his cock up at your entrance, gently easing himself past your sheath-like walls. He still clasped his hands at your thighs, brows crumpling with concentration. You were still so goddamn tight, clamping around him with a grip almost vice-like.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands clenching into fists.

“Shh,” Jaehyun whispered, moving his mouth to the side of your face. There was a catch in your breath when you noticed his lips brushing against your ear, breath tickling your nape. “Open up for me, baby.”

The sensation of being filled completely made you feel nothing short of relief. There was a wet noise when Jaehyun’s hips smacked against your own, the last thrust followed by one even deeper. You tried your best to take all of him, wanting to please him even if it was the last thing you did.

Jaehyun slipped out of his own trance briefly enough to mention, “I didn’t wear a condom.”

“Just pull out,” you said, in no state of mind to give a damn. You liked the feeling of him fucking you nice and raw.

“We’re definitely a pair of idiots.”

You snickered and found his hand, slipping your fingers through his. “You’re my idiot and I’m your idiot. That’s all that matters.”

Jaehyun smiled into the crook of your neck, eventually clamping his teeth there to conceal a moan at your expense.

He lifted his head and drew back to admire the entire view, watching his cock disappear between your legs over and over again borderline obsessively. There was something about you that he would never get tired of. He liked holding you close and loving you hard.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Jaehyun exhaled, voice full of sincerity. And raw pleasure.

You were burning up, withering heat blindsiding you. Jaehyun was making short work of you. It felt like love-making rather than plain old fucking, all things considered. Jaehyun’s gentle, steady pace as he whispered sweet little nothings in your ear, old school romance songs faded out in the background all the while.

All you could focus on was Jaehyun. He was all you could hear, all you could feel. You were driven by the feeling of your walls garroting his size, the sounds of the little groans he couldn’t smother into your skin and his affectionate words urging you closer to climax.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” you sighed, tightening your hold around his hand. It was a tiny, sweet gesture. “Please? I wanna hear you.”

Jaehyun obeyed you because there wasn’t a damn thing on this earth he wouldn’t do for you. You owned him and you knew it.

Jaehyun swore when you clamped around his dick even harder. He watched your breasts bounce, your whole body unstill. Even your hands were scrambling, releasing him and now finding purchase in his back. “I love you,” he sighed, kneading your breasts.

“I love you, too,” you moaned, feeling light as ever. He always took you to another dimension whenever you were together, but especially when he was fucking you within an inch of your life.

I love you, too. Jaehyun was beaming. That was the first time he’d heard you say it in over a year and you had no idea how badly he needed to hear it again now.

Jaehyun marked up your neck, leaving a trail of himself like souvenirs for you to remember in his absence. Your pulse thumped rapidly, your heart on the verge of tearing out of your chest, landing into his palms where it belonged. Now, your heartache was - at long last - soothed.

There were no words to aptly describe your affection towards Jaehyun. Your love for him ran to an inexplicably deep extent with seemingly no end. It was all you could think about while he fucked you, how badly you needed him in your life. How the sensations he made you feel were irreplicable and you were content enough to simply be in his arms.

Your lover never lasted very long when fucking you bare and raw and sensing himself approaching climax, Jaehyun brought his fingers to your clit, already swollen from release. A gasp tore from your throat when he fondled with the sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to facilitate an orgasm out of you.

“Jaehyun,” you whined. You reached for his hand, sensitive.

Jaehyun grabbed your hand with his spare one and slipped his fingers through again for you to squeeze. “It’s okay, my love. I want you to cum,” he said gently, biting your sweet spot.

He was making short work of you. Your climax threatened to ensnare you with a force powerful enough to snap you in half. You needed it. More than anything, you needed it.

You hauled your nails over his back, drawing long, red lines across the naked flesh. Jaehyun hissed darkly, pace quickening and coming even harder. You were driving him mad and vice versa. Your body had never been more confused than it was in that moment, barely willing itself to not writhe away but simultaneously matching his thrusts, wanting to build the pleasure yet somehow escape it all at once.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you warned in a impassioned chant, choking on your lack of breath. “I’m…”

Your body quivered, release stealing the rest of your words before you could speak them. You found Jaehyun’s hand again, squeezing it for dear life. The orgasm was so heavy you almost collapsed in on yourself and Jaehyun. You were seeing white, burning red, emitting Jaehyun’s name in a sharp cry.

Jaehyun felt you clenching around his cock with climax and immediately withdrew, knowing he would bust a nut inside you if he stayed a second longer. “Open your mouth,” Jaehyun told you, voice husky, thick with lust.

It was almost enough to break you all over again.

You did as instructed, no hesitation required. Jaehyun fitted his cock inside your mouth, moaning at how warm it was. You took him in, wanting to get him off and taste him dripping down your throat.

When he saw you, cheeks hollowed with his rigid cock in your mouth, Jaehyun nearly came then and there. He fucked your mouth, guttural little praises dangling from his lips.

Your thighs clenched tightly, hot sparks still aflame between. He got you riled up effortlessly, hardly ever needing to try. There was something about him that you were naturally attracted to, an unshakable kind of attraction. You couldn’t fathom why you couldn’t escape him, why your body and heart was seized by your lover.

“So good,” Jaehyun grunted, pace accelerating.

Jaehyun fucked your throat until he came, emptying his balls into your mouth at long last. Eagerly, you swallowed as much as you could, an amalgamation of his release and your saliva dribbling down your chin and onto your naked, heaving breasts.

And the sight positively wrecked him.

“Fuck,” you rasped, still registering what the hell had happened.

Jaehyun’s eyes flashed with alarm. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just that that’s the best sex I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes and quipped, “That’s the only sex you’ve had in a while.”

“Still the best.”

Jaehyun laughed, eyes crinkling. “Round two?”

“God, yes,” you groaned, still feeling unalloyed pleasure burning between your thighs.

Jaehyun scooped your bare body into his arms again and carried you into his room, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips and neck all the while.

You smiled to yourself in the morning when you roused, feeling Jaehyun’s arms still wrapped loosely around your waist.

Everything had shifted then. Though you initially had plans of spending the holidays buried in work, you came to find that Jaehyun’s warm embrace was the greatest gift you could have asked for on Christmas day. There was none of the loneliness and dwelling you dreaded, only making brand new memories with the man you loved with your entire heart, mind and soul.

On Christmas day, you visited his mother’s house where his family had gathered, recognized familiar faces that were surprisingly all too glad to see you again.

When Jaehyun’s mother opened the front door, you greeted bashfully, “Hi, Mrs. Jung.”

“I knew we would meet again,” Mrs. Jung said softly, simpering in a self-satisfied manner. “Come in, dear. You’re always welcome in our home.”

You stepped inside the house, Jaehyun following suit once exchanging a silent, understanding glance with his mother. As always, she was right.

As you glanced around, nostalgia hit you tenfold. Everywhere you looked, there were memories of you and Jaehyun. You could see you both running up the stairs excitedly and Mrs. Jung scolding you about horse-playing indoors. When your eyes fell to the kitchen, you saw yourself joining the Jung’s for dinner, sitting directly beside your lover.

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, given that seasonal music was blaring, and said, “I’m going to have a talk with my brother-in-law for a second. Be on your best behavior and don’t try to escape out a window. Old habits die hard.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him. “Go. I’ll be right here,” you said, heart wrenching softly.

Jaehyun snickered and slithered away.

In his place came someone you were very familiar with.

“Nostalgia?”

You whirled around, instantly recognizing the voice as Taeyong’s, one of Jaehyun’s many, many cousins.

“I made a lot of memories here. I’ll never forget any of it,” you replied honestly. “Long time, no see.”

Taeyong bobbed his head in agreement. “Definitely. I was scared that I’d never see you again.”

“Why is that?” Your curiosity was piqued. You never imagined Jaehyun’s family would anticipate meeting you once more. It was the stark opposite of your expectations.

Taeyong leaned closer like he was telling you someone’s deepest, darkest secret, and whispered, “Between you and I, Jaehyun hasn’t been the same since the breakup. Not a happy camper. You were a part of his life for so long that we were all convinced he would never adjust to living one without you again.”

Visioning a morose, heartbroken Jaehyun made you frown. “I did that.”

“You absolutely did. You broke the poor guy’s heart and made him unbearable. He didn’t deserve that. And I didn’t deserve to have to put up with his insufferable ass,” Taeyong scoffed offhandedly, though you knew his words were lighthearted. “But you fixed it.”

“I guess I did that, too,” you exhaled contentedly, turning your head to spot Jaehyun chatting with his brother. That made you beam. Everything had fallen apart, shattered into pieces, but you were both willing to do the work and put them together.

“He’s himself again,” Taeyong said, following your gaze. “Thank you for giving me my favorite cousin back.”

“I should have never taken him away in the first place.”

Taeyong gave you a playful, half-assed attempt at consoling, “Good people do bad things. We all fuck up. Just maybe not as badly as you.”

You nudged his side.

He continued, turning somewhat sober, “He forgives you. But this won’t work out until you also forgive yourself.”

“You’re so young, but so wise,” you whispered, slightly touched.

Taeyong snickered. “It runs in the family,” he said, patting your back before turning away.

You merely stood there, rooted in place. Taeyong had given you something to muse on you. You realized a part of you was still clinging onto guilt, unable to rationalize your own decisions. You were so convinced that you were undeserving of Jaehyun’s love and courtesy that you had forgotten how to move on from your errors.

It would be a process. But a step a day was better than none at all.

You beamed when you noticed Jaehyun approaching you and he returned it, outstretching his hand and asking, “May I steal a dance?”

“Of course,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

Jaehyun brought you from the foyer to the living room where mainly everybody had gathered to dance, spinning you in his arms as holiday music filled the air.

You swept some free strands of hair from his handsome face, admiring the view only a little higher up than you. Even in a room filled to the hilt with people, Jaehyun and Jaehyun alone was all you could see. Everyone else faded. It was only you and your lover, swaying to the rhythm of a seasonal song.

“This feels like senior prom, but Christmas edition,” Jaehyun quipped.

You snickered delightfully. “I remember when we were announced prom king and queen. I like how nobody was surprised.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Jaehyun joined you for the first dance, gently whirling you around in front of several prying eyes, but you didn’t care. To you, the room was as good as empty. They were faceless, nameless people with no contribution or value, no relation to you and your blossoming romance with Jaehyun.

It was an experience you never knew you needed back then. Maybe in that moment, you knew it was fate. That one way or another, Jaehyun was inevitably the one you would grow old and gray-haired with.

Even now, as you stared into his pretty brown eyes, you knew that this was the man you wanted a future with.

Jaehyun glanced up and said, “Look.”

You did as told, smiling fondly as you noticed the mistletoe hanging above your heads. A part of you wondered if it was a coincidence or if he chose this spot deliberately. “I remember kissing you in front of everyone,” Jaehyun added, full of mischief.

You played along and hummed, “I’m not sure if I recall. Care to remind me?”

Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to lock lips with you, tasting hot cocoa on your tongue. You could taste gingerbread on his and the thought made you giggle into his mouth. There was something about it - something about Jaehyun - that made every tiny thing mean a billion times more.

All of the whimsical little things made your heart swell with happiness.

“Yo, chill, you horn dogs. There’s children,” scolded Jaehyun’s other cousin Mark, covering his little cousin’s eyes. His family gave you a headache. Every time you learned them all, it was as if another cousin popped out of thin air.

You and Jaehyun pulled away, snickering. You leaned on your toes, giving his lips one final peck before deciding you’d had your fill.

Days of being Jaehyun’s again turned into some of the happiest months of your life. You were letting go of some of your old habits and setting some past trauma free. There were a handful of grim times, but you both made the effort to repair things before they spiraled out of control.

Excuses had run their course. Jaehyun would ask you on dates and you’d agree more, overworking yourself less. Until now, you never realized that putting some distance between yourself and the stresses of work was what it took to be happier. You had made the earth-shattering mistake of convincing yourself that hard work equated happiness.

The two of you agreed to take things slow, afraid rushing would land you in an achingly familiar predicament, but you couldn’t deny that things had been speeding up. And Jaehyun already knew that it would forever be you.

It was another long, brutal day of work and nothing was out of the ordinary. You were running across the office, balancing direct orders on top of your daily tasks. You needed six skins to have a job like this. Three to balance the roles of multiple people and another three to endure the wear and tear.

Ten, your favorite co-worker, tracked you down and stopped you dead in your tracks to say, “Hey, slow down a second. Someone’s here to see you.”

You did the opposite of slowing down, still walking and as he followed you, said, “Tell them I’m taking a sick day, would you? Thanks, Tennie.”

“I don’t think so,” Ten said, donning an amused look. Which successfully made you pause in confusion. Usually, Ten never hesitated to cover for you. “You’re going to want to hear what this guy has to say. I swear.”

Very reluctantly, you agreed to follow Ten, curiosity piqued as you wondered who in the hell would dare interrupt you in the middle of a swift-paced work day.

Jung Jaehyun. That was who.

You made a face of confusion when you saw him there, smiling at you like an idiot. Confused, you asked, “Jay, you couldn’t text or call?”

“What I’m about to do is a bit difficult to do over the phone,” Jaehyun retorted, admiring your state of obliviousness.

You huffed, “What are you…”

You cut yourself off when you noticed one of the staff hand Jaehyun a tiny box and he proceeded to crouch on one knee. The realization made your heart thud, pulse quickening.

Jaehyun started, “Baby, I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of how to say this. I had to have tried to practice this a million times before I decided to talk to you from my heart.”

Your co-workers all gathered around, and you noticed even your boss observing from the corner of your eyes, but your gaze was locked on Jaehyun and no one but.

Your lover fought his nerves and added, “We met when we were in high school. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were so young, dumb, and drunk off learning what true love was for the first time. We couldn’t resist each other.”

The memories made your heart melt, taut with ecstasy.

“Then, we got older. And things got more complicated, but in spite of that, we never stopped loving each other. Not for a second,” Jaehyun declared, impassioned. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way. No matter what has changed between us.”

Jaehyun was staring you dead in the eyes, watching your face melt with awe. It gave him all the courage he needed.

“You made it so easy to fall in love with you but so hard to fall back out. And I don’t want to. I adore you, my love. Thoughts of you keep me up and night, restless. You make me crazy.”

Your eyes burned, fighting an oncoming threat of tears with every passing word. Jaehyun had swept you off your feet, making you feel emotions you never knew existed.

“I know we’ve been through thick and thin, baby. But we were there for each other. And even when we separated, we found our way right back into each other’s arms,” your lover added.

You wanted to pinch yourself, determine if you were dreaming. Even though Jaehyun had proposed once to you before, you would never get used to the wave of emotion that plagued you, rendering you soft and full of glee.

“I didn’t know what love was until I fell for you. You’re my first love and all these years by your side have only solidified my courage that I want you to be my last. You are the only woman on this earth I can imagine a future with and if it’s not you, then I know there’s nobody else out there for me.”

Ten was smartly grabbing a box of tissues for safe measure.

Jaehyun’s voice got softer, “Let’s try again, my love. Let’s do this one more time - one last time. Will you marry me?”

Now, you had the spotlight. Ten was none too subtly mouthing, “Say ‘yes.’” Everybody was anticipating your reaction and you wondered exactly how long in advance everyone had been in on this little surprise except for you.

There was no hesitation and you practically screamed as you chanted, “Yes!”

Jaehyun, much like the last time he proposed to you, swept you into his arms and kissed you to death, effectively silencing you. The room erupted in cheer. Everybody was glad to get a break from their tedious jobs and witness a moment as beautiful as this one.

The champagne was already popping. Your fiancé whirled you in your arms and you told him affectionately, “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Jaehyun said, incapable of getting enough.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Let me love you,” your fiancé said, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And you were. “That’s all you have to do.”

You smiled, pretending to mull it over. “I think I can let that happen.”

Jaehyun was over the moon. There were no words to describe how ecstatic he was. He missed this feeling and he was more than glad that it had returned. “Merry Christmas,” he said playfully.

“Jaehyun, it is literally the end of February. You wished me Happy Valentines Day after fucking my brains out on your birthday,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Still,” your fiancé said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and cheesing at the memory of fucking you raw again. “Marrying you is the best gift I could ever ask for.”

You smiled in agreement. And fought a smirk as you remembered you had your own little surprise for your betrothed, waiting for you at home on the bathroom counter.

Jesus Christ, you were going to need a bigger place to stay.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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fuctacles · 1 month

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Part 2 of the series that can't be named (it's the cat lady steph)

😺 | 😺😺😺

Eddie doesn't think more about Steph until there's a knock on the door on Saturday morning. He sighs, knowing it's his duty to open since his uncle would take forever on his crutch. And because he's a good nephew and wouldn't make him do that, of course.

He doesn't bother with the peephole, his sleepy brain basically forgetting of its existence. It's only when he opens the door and finds Steph with a duffel bag on the other side, that he realizes he went to open the door in nothing but his old Iron Man pajama bottoms.

"Good morning!" Steph greets him with a bright smile that falters a bit when her gaze drops to his tattooed chest. Eddie couldn't imagine a sight of zombie and spider tattoos giving him any credit in her pretty, middle-aged eyes. She quickly looks back up to meet his gaze. "Did I wake you up?" she asks, looking apologetic.

Eddie shakes his head, hoping it would send his hair over his shoulders, and cover him up a bit.

"I did!" Wayne pipes up from the kitchen. He sounds way too happy about running into a cupboard on his way out of the bathroom.

"Good morning, Mr. Wayne!" she calls out, making Eddie roll his eyes.

"You can just come in, no need to yell through the whole place."

"Right, sorry," she steps inside tentatively, her hand clutching the strap of her bag. She's wearing a colorful windbreaker and her hair is tied up, showing off the soft line of her jaw and the beauty marks on her neck. She heads to the kitchen, seemingly already knowing her way around, and Eddie closes the door behind her. He quickly runs off to his bedroom (/guest room, now that he's on campus most of the time) and grabs a t-shirt to cover his nipples, tattoos, and overall unattractiveness.

"Visiting Robin for the weekend?" He catches his uncle's question when he steps back in.

It rubs him the wrong way, not knowing who Robin is. Is he Steph's boyfriend? Maybe they're doing long-distance? He returns to the ancient coffee maker he had abandoned to open the door.

"Yeah. I haven't seen Rob since last month. Our days off finally aligned."

"Can't you stay there longer? I'm sure Eddie wouldn't mind taking care of your cats for a day or two more."

"Hey!" Eddie whips around to glare at his uncle. The coffee maker splutters behind him. "Don't just offer my services like that," he scoffs. Then, he turns to Steph. "I wouldn't, though."

She chuckles and he grins, simply happy to make her smile.

"Try dealing with them alone first, and then we'll talk. But, you really wouldn't mind? If I stayed a day longer?"

He shakes his head.

"Not at all." He still has Wayne's words fresh in his mind. That people weren't kind to her, that she doesn't have many friends to rely on. "I'm assuming Robin is someone important to you?" he half-asks, leaning against the counter all casually.

Just the thought of Robin makes Steph glow.

"She's my best friend. We met at our first job serving ice cream."

Eddie's a bit embarrassed at the relief of knowing Robin is a girl. Still, a best friend is higher in ranks than your friendly neighbour's nephew.

"What's it been? Twenty years?" Wayne asks. Steph nods, making him whistle. "I couldn't stand any of my coworkers for longer than a shift."

"Maybe you're bad at making friends," Eddie butts in. "I've known Gareth since high school and we're still going strong."

"You guys are band buddies, that's different," Wayne scoffs.

"You play in a band?" Steph picks up, her eyes shining with interest that Eddie squirms under.

"Yeah, we play metal though. Probably not your stuff."

She shakes her head.

"Any music can be good when you put your heart into it. My friends listen to all kinds of weird stuff, I've heard everything from classical to experimental techno." She rolls her eyes. "I'd love to hear your music if you have anything recorded. Or you could give me a heads up if you're playing somewhere."

All Eddie can do is stare at her, dumbfounded.

"Uh-huh."

Wayne, bless his sometimes useful soul, saves his ass by changing the subject.

"Coffee?" he asks the stunning woman at their table. She's just sitting there, in the Munson abode at their kitchen table while they're still in pajamas like it's normal. Eddie wants it to be normal. Wants to sit in her lap and listen to her laugh.

She looks at her watch. It's white, she must be cleaning it often.

"I only have fifteen more minutes before I really have to go."

"Half a coffee then," Eddie decides for her, grabbing the mugs. She chuckles.

"Fine." She rolls her eyes.

Each of them gets their coffee, and Eddie notes Steph takes her with just a splash of milk. Before he can ask anything, to push their small morning gathering further into a friendly small talk, she reaches into her pocket to fish out her house key.

"I came over to drop the keys," she says, pushing them towards Eddie. "And if you have something to write on, I'll give you Robin's house number in case of emergencies."

"Sure, yeah." He nods, standing up immediately to look for the notepad they plan the grocery list in. In his haste, he catches Wayne's amused stare. He sends him a frown, but the man is already looking away, which only further agitates him.

#The crazy cat lady au #steddie #stevie harrington #mine #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #transfem steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #Stevierything #crazy cat lady stevie

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daengtokki · 1 month

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serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: ~10k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: rough sex, manipulation, strangulation, blood, implied drugging, murder

SYNOPSIS: you walk into Seungmin’s life, and disrupt everything

DEITY INTRO

The smell of smoke reaches his nose, and the craving comes on so suddenly, and so strong…he hates this, not being able to control something so small. He doesn't have much control at all, if he thinks about it. He hasn't had any real control in years—just the illusion of it. The first chance Seungmin gets, he disappears into a convenience store, and he walks back out with a pack of cigarettes clenched in one hand. He bites down on a fresh book of matches as he bounces it against the heel of his palm, eyes still carefully scanning the streets as he unwraps the plastic and pops one between his lips.

The sound of the match against the striker strip is enough to calm his nerves, but the first slow drag quiets his mind and numbs the itch in his limbs. The part of his brain that doesn't shut up when it's time likes to smoke lately, it seems, so he listens. More of his illusion.

Just as he pulls in another lungful, you breeze past him, head down, eyes glued to your phone. Seungmin can see exactly what you're doing—looking at a map as you walk, probably a little lost, and you’re mumbling quietly. Scolding yourself, maybe, but taking your time and obviously trying to keep it together. He wonders just how lost you are, but he doesn't move right away…he’s smarter than that. That itch returns very quickly, despite the cigarette, and his legs shake a little with the anticipation of following behind. Lucky for him, you stop and duck under the awning for some shade, and probably to get your bearings.

He likes the way you look.

You feign confidence, and you really are doing a great job of fitting in and acting like you know where you are—where you need to go. If anyone else was nearby, they wouldn't even suspect you needed help. And you’re pretty. Seungmin thinks you probably don’t know that, not here, so out of your element. You are, though.

Just as he moves to approach you, you lift your gaze, and your eyes find his. Seungmin freezes for a moment, then slowly takes the cigarette from him lips. “Hello,” he smiles and turns away a little to blow out his smoke. “I’m sorry, I can…” he discards it, then turns back, hoping your eyes are still on him.

He was a little rushed this morning, his hair dryer broke, and he spilled an entire iced coffee on his way out the door. Going out today didn’t seem like the best idea, but he figured he would at least make the attempt, and try again tomorrow if he had to. Seungmin is very glad he tried today. You still look up at him with keen, hopeful eyes when he turns to face you again.

“…put this out.” He tries English—it’s the only western language he knows. “Do you need help reading your map?”

Still, you stare…silent. If you don’t speak English or Korean, he’s out of luck, and he’ll have to drag himself back home, alone, and crawl into bed until tomorrow.

“Yes…thank you”

He sighs internally, and smiles softly at you. Once again, his looks (and his fluent English) get him what he wants. Seungmin doubts you would have taken the help if that first look didn't get something moving in you. He could see it in your eyes. “Where are you headed? I might be more useful than that map.”

Still, you hesitate for a brief moment, “...my apartment. I took the bus, and I missed it coming back. But I think I’m almost there. I’m just a little anxious, and I’m being stupid…”

“No, you’re not. Have you been here long? In Seoul?”

“About a week”

“No, not stupid. What’s the address?”

/ / /

“Stay close, we can probably get the whole way across.” He looks back at you, and slows enough for you to catch up to his long strides. “No, maybe not,” he takes your wrist in his hand, and it’s unnecessary, because you stop with him. It’s a good start…the first touch. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you glance at him, and then to his hand wrapped around you, “I think I know where I’m at now.”

“You think?”

“I think”

“I’ll take you to your building. You don’t have to invite me up…promise.”

It’s another two blocks before you finally see it, and the sight of it is a relief. Seungmin can almost feel the tension leave your body as you approach it, but there’s a long moment of silence between you when you finally get there.

Eventually, you unfreeze yourself and speak,“thank you for your help…uh, what should I call you?”

“Thank you for letting me help. You can call me Seungmin.” He smiles shyly when he says his name.

“Seungmin, is it okay if do?”

“Do what?” He already knows what you’re getting at, but he cocks his head and bites his lip.

“Invite you up. I’m sure you have better things to do, though.”

Seungmin loves the flush in your cheeks when you ask. The nervous energy that left you returns, and it gets his blood pumping everywhere it needs to—his heartbeat jumps, and he hopes his cheeks pink up a little bit, too. “No, that’s been my best offer all day.” He knows he can’t do anything here, but this is also an unusual feeling—visiting the home of a potential victim. It's not necessary, and it's very personal...and it's a little bit awkward.

“This is cute.” Seungmin stands in one spot, and examines the tiny apartment. It’s simple, and still a little plain, but you’ve barely had time to settle. He can picture the twin size bed you’re sleeping on, and how the two of you would barely fit; the commotion you’d make…the mess. The thought sends a jolt of pleasure through him, and he feels himself getting hard as he watches you stare so intensely.

“What?” He smirks. You smile back, so Seungmin lets his grow a little wider.

“Do you want some coffee? You look like a coffee person.”

“I am, I would love some”

/ / /

“You’re a long way from home,” Seungmin says over the rim of his mug, casually scanning every part of you as he does—your bare feet shuffling on the area rug; your legs, easy to admire in the tight leggings you’re wearing; body sinking comfortably into the squishy couch. He sits up and turns himself toward you a little more. “May I ask why?”

“Work. But I think I’m very under-qualified for the position…I took it to get away from my old life, and my ex.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Bad breakup?”

“Bad enough…I’m sure things could’ve been worse”

If he can find out when the break-up happened, Seungmin can figure out just how vulnerable you still are. “If it was worth coming this far, I’m sure it was bad.” Reaching out right now and grabbing your throat would be so, so easy. It would be nothing; his hands would wrap perfectly around your delicate neck. He can almost feel the snap of your hyoid, your pulse as it speeds up; slows down; stops completely. Vulnerable, but still guarded—soft, sad eyes, and nervous fingers tapping against the mug, turned slightly away from him.

Still, when you look at him again, you light up a little. “My turn…what were you doing smoking outside a GS25 all alone this morning? I’m very glad you were there…just curious.”

“Oh…” Seungmin actually laughs at that—a genuine laugh. He wasn’t prepared for such a blunt question. “People watching, I guess. I like to observe.” He notices your eyes wondering over him, the same as he did to you, only you’re a lot little less subtle about it. “What is it?”

“What do you do for a living?”

A living. What does he do for a living? He doesn’t do anything except survive day to day within his careful, tedious routine. He’s a trust-fund baby, thank god. Seungmin can’t imagine having to work a day job, deal with the public, wear a mask every moment of the day just to get by.

“I make music…write, produce. Independently. Nothing major, but it pays the bills.” It’s not his usual lie, but it seems fitting for you. It’s not even a lie, because Seungmin does make music—music that has ever seen the light of day.

“You sing?”

Seungmin nods, puts on another shy smile for you. “Yeah, I do. Mostly for myself, though.” He’s not used to fielding so many personal questions so quickly, because by now, someone has their mouth on something. Or something in it. The thought gives him another twinge in his groin, and he almost whines along with his sigh.

Now is probably a good time to get more information, but his dick continues to distract him. “Uhm, what was your promotion? What do you do?” Not this information, but he has to start somewhere.

“Nothing very exciting. Customer relations for a cosmetics company. I don’t like it very much, but it pays well enough, and I’m here now.”

“Is that where you went this morning?” It’s almost too nosy, but he goes with it. “Sorry, that’s not really my business.”

“No, it’s okay. I was coming back from Dongguk University. I’m taking language classes."

He takes the opportunity to switch to Korean, “good…so you don’t speak any Korean?”

And all you can do is stare back, clueless. “I think I caught a word,” you laugh when he grins at you.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you”

An exchange of phone numbers, the promise of dinner, and Seungmin is on his way back home. Empty handed, yes, but he already has a plan unfolding in his mind. A few times before, he’s deliberately taken his time—did the cat and mouse thing, or more appropriately for him, a dog with a bone. It’s usually not by choice, though. He may have to find another in the meantime; something quick and easy to hold him over. Rushing things with you won't satisfy him.

“Wow, this is…great,” the girl turns and gives Seungmin a heavy, confident look. She only has one thing on her mind, but he’s alright with getting straight to the point. “How about the bedroom?” So why does the eagerness almost turn him off? It’s a stark contrast to what you just gave him, and to what anyone else ever gives him. The dates he picks up don’t want coffee and conversation.

There is no foreplay—not a single touch until his pants are undone and on the floor, but she goes for his shirt, and Seungmin grabs for her wandering hands.

“What’s wrong…self-conscious?” She slips one under and runs her fingertips across his ribs.

He has to tilt his head to the side to avoid her lips. “No, I’m not.”

“You are a little skinny, but that’s okay”

The gasp the girl makes when he grabs the side of her neck, the little bit of fear in her eyes, is what finally gets him completely hard. He squeezes, just enough to not be threatening, and she relaxes for a moment.

“Sorry…sorry, just teasing,” she smiles a little, and her eyes dart from the window, and then back to him.

“Get on your knees”

She does so without hesitation, but Seungmin turns and walks away before she has a chance to touch again. There wasn’t much prep for this, so he has to be careful, and he has to be quiet, so he stares absently into the drawer of his bedside table for a few long moments. Handcuffs could be helpful, but the gag might be even better. He opts for the handcuffs, and when the girl sees them dangling from his finger, she smiles. “Okay, I like kinky…are those for me?”

Seungmin nods, and very gently secures one of her wrists. The other end snaps around the bedpost. Now she reaches her free hand toward him and gets a handful of dick, and he lets her touch.

“Are you gonna be a tease now? Take these off.”

A hand comes down fast, and again she gasps as he tightens his grip around her throat. She grabs for him and claws at his skin, but it does nothing. His grip still tightens, even as her nails cut and a thin line of blood starts to form. Seungmin relaxes, and then lets go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She coughs and pulls at the cuff, but it's not going anywhere. “Get this off of me. Now."

None of this is new for him, and most of the time, his jobs aren't easy. Last time, he was lucky. "No," Seungmin laughs and pulls his shirt over his head, but just as he's about to return to his drawer for something new, he hears his phone buzz in the pocket of his discarded jeans.

"Take these off…please"

"Not yet, relax"

"But you will? What are you gonna do? I'm sorry I teased you…please, you can do whatever you want, but—"

"But? I can do whatever I want, but what?"

The fear in her eyes is enough of an answer, but another buzz of his phone distracts her for the briefest moment. "Please let me go. We can just pretend this never happened.”

Seungmin goes for his phone this time, "no, I don’t do that," and stares at the number for a few seconds before recognizing it, because he didn't add you to his contacts. He's not even sure he should.

Hi! I just wanted to thank you again for being so kind. I haven't had any really nice interactions with anyone until I met you today. And there is a place a block way from me that I've been wanting to try since I got here, if you're still interested.

Seungmin doesn't catch himself grinning, but his guest does. "Good news?" She asks. "Look, this was just a date gone bad. I'm not into whatever kinky shit you're into.”

He's bored. To be honest, he's been bored since he got this girl back to the apartment, so this may not do the job as well as he was expecting—he’s already starting to get soft. But letting someone go? Seungmin doesn't do that. The phone gets tossed onto the bed as he makes his way back to his drawer, and this time, he knows what he needs. The girl gasps and screams as soon as she sees the glint of the blade against the lamplight—the gag definitly would have helped, but it's too late now. The neighbors are mosty likely at work, at least.

The rattle of the cuffs against the bedpost is annoying, and Seungmin thinks for a moment that it might actually break. "You need to relax, and you need to be quiet. This…" he gestures to her antics, "this is not helping either of us."

"Fuck you, you're gonna burn in hell"

That's the last thing she says. There is one more reach, and one more scratch of her nails (right across his cheek), but she gives in as soon as the knife slides neatly between her ribs. One last hitch in her throat, one last exhale, and the light fades from her eyes. Exactly what he needed.

"I know"

/ / /

I am still interested. I wonder if we're thinking of the same place.

He sends that off and thinks, but the first text is more of a challenge to acknowledge.

I'm glad I could be your first.

It doesn't sound quite right to him, but maybe that's a good thing. He sends that, too.

Now he looks to the lifeless body on his floor. The blood has soaked through her clothes, and onto the area rug where she was kneeling. Seungmin suddenly remembers why he hates doing things this way. Okay, no blood for a while, he thinks as he begins to conceal the body. He has a long day ahead of him now.

The week passes slowly, and Seungmin spends it hidden away in his bedroom. He wrote a little, and he forced himself to sing last night, but aside from that, he's just existed beneath the warmth of his blankets. One more text came from you a few days ago, but he hasn't bothered looking at it yet. Ignoring his phone has been a test for himself, and he has done pretty well at not thinking about what you said.

That can't last forever, though. Seungmin doesn't think you're going to lose interest that easily. He knows you won't. And besides, he's hungry. It's time to get out of bed.

I'm free all day on Thursday

Fuck, today is Thursday. Seungmin sits up in bed and stares at the screen, thinks…wonders if chasing you will be worth it in the end. What if he spends all of this time on you, and it doesn’t fill the need he’s expecting it to? What if it’s just like the last one? He starts to type.

I am free today. I'm sorry I took so long to reply. I understand if you made other plans.

No, it can’t be as bad as that one.

Lunch. Maybe a walk, if it's not to cold for you. Back to the apartment. It's not time, though. The feeling hasn't quite returned yet, and it won't feel right if he does this now. Maybe today isn't the day.

I'm still free. Let me know when!

But lunch wouldn't hurt. Seungmin needs you here, in this apartment, if he's going to do this right. He needs you comfortable with him.

I can get dressed and head to your building. Half an hour? Meet me outside.

/ / /

You dressed up for him. He's still a half a block away, and you’re turned in the opposite direction, but he can tell that you put some thought and effort into your outfit. Seungmin looks the same as he typically does; black jeans, black sneakers, a Carhartt jacket over a loose fitting t-shirt. Not much effort, really, but…

"Hi!" You examine him, not so subtly, starting from his dark parted hair, all the way down his long, slender legs. The smile on your face grows when you meet his eyes again. "How was your walk?"

Now it's beginning to feel like a date, and it’s very obvious that you’re attracted to him. There’s no doubt you would’ve looked at him the same had he arrived in the sweatpants he had on in bed this morning. "Very nice. How was the trip from your apartment?"

Seungmin gets a genuine laugh out of you. “It was great, I was very excited to get down here and see you.”

Excited to see him. Okay. Seungmin is used to the attention, but he isn’t as used to the cute, innocent flirting. He sees your cheeks blush before you drop your gaze.

“You lead the way”

He nods, and brushes by you very gently.

Lunch is perfectly normal; a real date. Seungmin learns a little more about you, and you learn a few more exaggerated, somewhat true things about him. The breakup between you and your ex was recent—only six weeks ago. The move was actually the catalyst for ending things. You confessed to him that you’re still unsure if it was the right thing to do, but you are beginning to like living in Seoul already. Maybe because of him. You thanked him again for his help, so Seungmin starts to wonder if simple kindness isn’t something you’re used to. Getting it from him seems a little ironic.

“Would you like to take a walk?” The second part of his plan already seems to be in motion, because you walked right by your building without even realizing. “There’s a nice park I like to visit about a half a mile that way, and a cafe a little closer, actually.”

“Either sounds good"

“Or, my apartment is closer than both. And I have a very nice coffee bar. And a regular bar, if you prefer.”

He hears your soft laugh, and he can picture you blushing again. A no wouldn’t surprise him, though—going straight to his apartment was beginning to feel like a stretch, but he has to ask. After all, you did invite him up fifteen minutes into knowing him.

"Are you gonna make me a homeade latte?"

"Whatever you desire"

/ / /

Seungmin waits for you to give him a surprised look as soon as he leads you through his front door, just like everyone else does, but you don’t. You’re quiet as you take your shoes off and look around, and you don’t make a sound until he speaks up.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the espresso machine going.”

“You must do good work”

“I wouldn’t say that. My dad left me a lot when he died, so I can’t take any credit for it.” Why did he say that? He had no reason to tell the truth, and yet, it slipped right out.

Now you do give him a look—a sad, apologetic one. “Well, I’m sure you still do good work.”

Seungmin keeps his mouth shut as he flips a switch and grinds the coffee beans. You don’t say anything else, but he watches you watching him carefully from the corner of his eye as he works. He makes one for himself, too, and as he walks to join you, a reflection on the hardwood makes him stop in his tracks. A small, silver earring is shining up at him, and he silently scolds himself for his sloppy cleanup. How did he miss that all week? He did stay in bed for most of that time, but he has never, not once, left something behind. It looks clean, at least...no blood.

“What’s wrong?” You look to where he’s looking, and you see whatever has him frozen. A small silver hoop earring.

“Uh, nothing…” he sets both coffees down on the table and tries to ignore it, but he can’t. Besides, you’ve seen it, and he can’t just leave it there. Seungmin wonders if he left something even more damning in the apartment as he bends to pick it up.

“One of your dates lost something?” You say it casually…just an observation, “I assume you have a lot of them coming and going.” But Seungmin looks ready to defend himself.

“No…no, I don’t. Not that often, really.” He slips it into his pocket. “How is your drink. I can make another if it’s not quite right.”

“It looks good,” you pick it up and hold it under your nose, “smells good,” and take a slow, careful sip. It’s hot, but just the right amount of hot. “It’s very good, thank you.”

He sits down, and his knee grazes against yours. You hold still and watch his hand run down his thigh, follow his arm up to his shoulder—to his neck, where his loose t-shirt reveals some collarbone, soft and tan. Seungmin is staring right through you, and he doesn't seem to realize it. The movement of his eyes is hypnotizing, and they're so big and dark, you feel like they could swallow you whole.

Just when you think he's going to reach for his coffee, his hand lifts toward you, and everything moves in slow motion—Seungmin's tongue pokes out to wet his lips, he bites down on it a little…and his fingertips just barely graze the far side of your neck.

You shake free of your trance and move back.

"Sorry"

"It's alright," you take another long sip of your coffee and avoid his gaze, but you can feel him staring at you. Hard. You look around his big, well decorated apartment and suddenly wonder how you ended up here with a man you hardly know, inches from him, his eyes eating away at you.

He's not sure why he went for that touch. Curiousity, maybe. Your skin looks soft, it is soft, and though he has no overwhelming urges at the moment, he still wants to to know how your skin feels squeezed against his palms, and pinched between his fingers. The image gives him a pleasant twinge in his stomach, and he doesn't even think about the possibility of his dick growing in his jeans right here and now. Today, nothing will happen, and if he scares you off now, he’ll never get you here alone again. It’s not a risk worth taking.

“I am…please forgive me. I don’t know why I did that. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I don’t.” It’s a little bit of a lie, but he seems sincere. It’s easier to relax and take a deep breath now that he’s up and making a little bit of distance between you. Still, you admire him from this angle—his long, slender legs, perfect in proportion to the rest of him. Broad shoulders, and a strong looking back that you can see when the light hits his white t-shirt just right.

His face is soft, his jaw is strong, and his skin pretty, but not quite perfect. Seungmin looks like a piece of art come to life, and he’s here with to you. Talking to you. Staring at you. Reaching out to touch you.

There has to be something wrong with him.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m okay”

“I asked if you wanted to see the balcony”

There is no doubt he caught you admiring him. The grin on his face warms your cheeks…it warms your entire body. “Yeah, sure”

The balcony is in his bedroom.

Very cautiously, you walk through the doorway, but you’re not sure why you’re still on edge. So far, Seungmin has been sweet and thoughtful…maybe a little odd, but not so odd that it should concern you. Regardless of how handsome he is, maybe he really doesn’t go on many dates, or even get out of this apartment very often…his room is dark and moody, maybe more of a reflection of his mind than anything else in the apartment. Everything looks expensive—the high windows, the lighting, the music equipment in the corner. His bed is oversized and covered in soft pillows, and an old stuffed dog sits right in the middle. It looks like it’s seen better days. Seungmin doesn’t stop to show you around, though. He heads straight for the balcony.

“You’re not afraid of heights?”

You shake your head.

“Good. It’s a nice view.”

It is a nice view, because he’s almost at the very top. The wind gusts a few times as you stand there, and the air is chilly, but Seungmin stands to your side and blocks most of it. His eyes burn into you again, and you’re starting to like it.

“I should probably go.” Another lie. There is no reason to leave, and you don’t want to, but if you do stay, something will certainly happen.

“Oh, of course…I can call a ride for you”

And you want something to happen. Being in his room, within falling distance of his bed, is driving you a little bit crazy. His big, soft eyes are driving you crazy. But you barely know him, and you’ve barely settled into your new life. Feeling vulnerable isn’t new, but you’re extra vulnerable right now, and you know what can happen when you feel that way.

/ / /

Someone else will come along, and he’ll be fine. Eventually, he’ll come across another perfect one, and when he does, he won’t drag his feet and fuck things up. You were right here, inches from him…more than within reach, and Seungmin is not used to failing at getting his way. Maybe he missed something. Seungmin isn’t completely aloof when it comes to emotions and reading them on people, but he doesn’t typically bother with it, and he isn’t the best at it.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to dwell on it too long. You send him a text right before he begins to doze off that night...

Thank you for lunch today, and the walk…and coffee. Sorry I ended everything so quickly, it was nothing personal. I would like to see you again.

Okay, everything is fine. Just a little overreaction on his part. He just…scared you off? Came on a little too strong with the neck touch, more than likely. It didn't seem like much, but you're obviously a little reticent.

I would like to see you again

No reply to that, but a heart pops up next to his message after it sends.

He drags himself to the other end of the street, but he's tired. Sleep hasn't come easily the past few days, and the nightmares that come and go have returned…the same ones—the old shed, the soft, rain soaked ground, and the earth covering his father's hands when he reaches out for Seungmin. There's more, so much more, but it always comes in pieces. Maybe tonight he'll get another piece.

For now he focuses on the woman entering the bar, and he's certain he's going to lose her in there on a busy Saturday night. The urges have returned, and the sleepless nights haven't made things any easier, so he has to do something, and this half-hearted chase helps a litte bit. You haven't said a word since Thursday, and if you don't by tomorrow morning, he might just come and find you himself. If that's the case, he doesn't even need to pursue this one—he can go back home, take a hot shower, make a strong drink, and finish his nightmare.

“Seungmin?”

His heart jumps into his throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you”

It’s you. It’s your soft, lilting voice, and your pleasant accent. He turns and your eyes connect, but his heart still continues to pound. “Hi, what are doing so far from home?” Very far. He ventured a little further out of his comfort zone this time around. Running into you this far from home can't be a coincidence, even if Seungmin doesn't believe in things like that.

“You first”

“Oh, uh…trying to be social, I guess”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me the truth.” You smile at his smirk. “A few of my classmates dragged me along, but I’m over it already. I don’t usually stay up this late.”

“I can ride home with you, if you’d like. Unless I can convince you to have a drink with me first.”

You think about it, but not for very long. Part of you wants to make up for last time, and for struggling to text him back. “Yes to both. Can we try a different bar?” The other part wants to remain strong.

“Of course, anything you want”

“Your bar?”

But the former part is bigger.

It's a quiet ride back to his place, but it's not an awkward quiet. Seungmin is relaxed, body turned sightly toward you, and you can tell he's watching every subtle movement you make; the fidgeting of your fingers, and the bounce of your knee, the occasional shift to adjust yourself and pull at your sweater. You can't quite figure out what he seems to see in you, and maybe that's part of your hesitation—being a clueless foreigner with a native drinking up every little thing, emphasis on little, that you have to you offer.

He walks ahead of you as you head for the elevator, and it's another opportunity to look at him in the harsh light. The leather jacket he's wearing is a bit big, but it doesn't hide the broadness of his shoulders. Just as you move your eyes down, he begins to take it off and reveal even more. His muscles move delicately beneath the black t-shirt as it slides down his arms, this time a more form-fitting one, tucked loosely into his black jeans. Tiny waist, narrow hips, but just enough ass to grab.

The elevator opens and he turns to you, "don't worry, I won’t keep you up too late."

When you arrived, he did all of the things guy's don't actually do on your dates: pay for the ride, open the door, hold a hand out for you. It was a little bit cheesy, but you're not going to complain about his good manners.

"Do you mind if I change? I can smell the smoke on me."

You shake your head at him, make yourself comfortable on the couch, and listen carefully as he moves around in his bedroom…the slide of a drawer, a door softly opening and closing. He's not in there long, and when he comes out, he looks like a different person.

Seungmin’s face is so striking, and it’s like that no matter what he does to his hair, but he definitely combed everything back with his fingers while he changed. It’s parted just off to the side and pushed away from his eyes, save for a few lose strands, and his eyes are so pretty and intense. The outfit is completely different—a loose fitting t-shirt, a thin white one this time, and sweatpants. It looks so out of place, because the three times you’ve seen him, he was dressed a little more than casual.

A silver Chanel necklace still hangs around his neck, and you wonder if he just forgot about it. “Better?” You stand and take a step toward him, he moves a little closer, but heads toward his small, but elaborate bar.

“Yeah,” he smiles and beckons you . “What do you like to drink?”

“What do you think I like?”

“Oh…good question, let me think,” he very patiently scans over his selection…

Ice in the shaker, cherry soju, coconut vodka—he gives it a shake, never breaking eye contact until he has to grab a glass and pour—he stops and looks around, thinks, then grabs another bottle from under the bar. As soon as he twists the cap off, the sweet smell hits you. Seungmin tops it off with cream soda, and drops in a cherry before sliding it toward you. Then he pours some for himself, minus the soda.

“Is this me as a cocktail?”

He sips his, and you can hear a little laugh from behind the glass. “First impression? Yeah. Is it good?”

“It’s good, it’s sweet…goes down easy”

“Oh, I hope so”

The whole room warms. You feel like you’re on fire. You know you’re blushing, and you might even be grinning like an idiot, but you can’t pull yourself away from his stare. Seungmin bites down on his bottom lip and a smirk slowly tugs at his mouth, and it’s now that you notice how plump and red his lips are. His cheeks turn a little pink, too.

All you can do is clear your throat and shift in the bar stool, but thankfully, Seungmin still has the reigns. He finishes his drink in one swift movement, and you take one more sip as he rounds the bar. The warmth of his hand on your thigh, you do feel that, but everything else is either numb or pulsing with nervous excitement. He spins you to face him, but his hand doesn’t move—it squeezes as he leans in and whispers in your ear.

“Stop fighting against it…just…” he sighs, and it turns to a soft moan. You feel like you could melt right out of this stool and onto the floor. “Don’t make me beg.”

Fuck, your mind went from nothing to everything you want him to do to you, and everything you’ve been wanting to do to him. But you haven’t done anything yet, and you don’t have to. Seungmin hasn’t come off as that type, but god…the way he’s looking at you and gripping your leg. He gently pushes your thighs apart until he can put himself between them, and your eyes drop to the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“Seungmin…uh, fuck…um”

“What? Look at me. Eyes up here.”

The ease at which he makes you listen is surprising. He has you now. The smoke-tinged smell of his skin, the vanilla of his cologne, and the sweet smell of booze on his lips. His eyes soften, and you can’t even begin to imagine resisting that look—from here you can see the little bit of black eyeliner starting to smudge. You don’t even feel yourself reach up and wipe your thumb at the corner of his eye, not until he smiles and wraps his fingers around your wrist.

“I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you what you need.”

No answer will come out, so you squeeze your thighs and hope he can read the look in your eyes. He does. Seungmin grabs your hips and pulls your body into his, lifts you, and doesn’t hesitate once he has you in his arms. He turns and takes you right into the bedroom, and the feeling of being outside of your body is intense. You can feel your legs wrapped tight around his hips, and your arms clinging to his shoulders…you can hear his soft grunts as he keeps you steady against him. He pulls you close right before he drops you, and you get a taste of his skin before you hit the bed.

“Keep your eyes on me”

He pulls his shirt over his head, and you study every inch of him while you can. A long, lean torso—his muscles underneath flex with every shallow breath; his bare shoulders—you count every freckle as your eyes move down his arms; his hands grab his waistband and pull, and his cock bounces out, bigger than anything you’ve taken before, and you’re not even sure he’s fully hard yet.

Seungmin laughs at your reaction. “I’m usually a little more subtle…but,” he stops and looks you over, and his voice turns so sweet, “take something off for me. Please.” He’s never this needy, and he doesn’t usually move so fast, but he’s aching for it. Nine days of teasing him was far too long. “Yeah?,” he purrs as you sit up and slide out of your oversized sweatshirt. “Much better….” He strokes himself as he climbs onto the bed.

As soon as your tank top makes it over your head, and your breasts bounce free, you feel your nipples harden even more. Seungmin groans like a horny teenager. “Good…lie back for me.”

The steadiness of his hands is what you expect from him, though. You know he’s experienced, and you know he wants all the control. He unbuttons the skirt and pulls, leaving you in nothing but your panties—you wore cute ones, the lacy ones, just because. Of course you weren’t expecting to get anything tonight, but you’re so glad you did when you see Seungmin smiling at them…but then he snaps out of his trance.

Fuck, he mumbles and moves back. You watch him hop off the bed, and take another chance to admire his naked body, but he doesn't take long getting into his drawer, grabbing something, and returning to you. The condom is out and on him before you even realize what he was doing, and your panties are gripped and pulled down.

"Open up for me," he coaxes your shy legs apart until he has an eyeful of your throbbing, swollen cunt—good—and his tongue slides hungrily into you, making you gasp. "Soaking wet for me already?" Seungmin looks at you for an answer.

You nod and cautiously run your fingers through his hair, and he leans into it before getting back to work, but he just teases you. Licking and sucking just enough to make your hips move against him for more. You relax and enjoy it while you look around the dark room. The curtains are pulled shut, but you can see a little slice of city through the balcony's sliding door. The built-in shelves in the corner are over flowing with books, records, little trinkets you can't quite make out. There’s a bouquet of fresh purple flowers poking out just enough to see. You reach up and slide your hand across a silky pillow, and your fngers close around it.

"Oh…right there," you whine and take another fistful of hair. "Seungmin, god."

He laughs again, takes your words to heart, and doesn't hold back.

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you try hard to keep your body relaxed as he works, but all you want to do is thrust into him, make more fiction…finish…come hard. Seungmin moans and the vibration runs through you.

"Fuck”

He stops, and lifts his mouth off of you completely…

"No…please"

…and he laughs. "Not yet, not yet."

"So mean," you whimper, "why…"

You force your legs closed, but Seungmin doesn't like that. He grabs each knee and spreads you open again, and he slides himself between your thighs until his cock grazes your sensitive clit.

“Relax…” he comes down and bites the skin on your hip.

“I am,” you lie back and look to your left this time; at the desk, the instruments, everything he uses for work. The bedside table is bare except for a lamp, a pair of glasses you’ve never seen him in, and a silver bracelet…it matches the necklace you feel tickling you as he moves his lips up your body. “I am.” Your fingers tangle in his hair as he gets closer and closer to your throat, your neck. He bites down gently, and the pressure as he pushes himself in is so much more than you prepared for. He doesn’t tease—but he does at least take his time. After a few patient movements, he pushes in, and you whine in pain as he moans in pleasure, pulls out, laughs softly as he pushes in. Again and again.

“Fuck, you feel good”

“Slower…slow down,” your own voice echoes in your head, and you don’t feel like you’re all there. But you watched him make your drink, and he didn’t put anything in it. It’s stupid, but maybe it’s just him, and this room.

“Slow down? Oh, I’m hurting you.” He pushes in and stops, “I don’t wanna hurt you, but...you look so good stretched around my cock,” and pulls out carefully, “so wet.”

“You’re not hurting me…”

“I am”

It takes so much restraint, but Seungmin listens to you, and he’s patient as he pumps in and out. Every few strokes, he moves a little faster, and he knows he finally finds a good pace when you whine for him and squeeze his arms.

“Yeah, you like that?” He whispers and you nod, “you take it so well, fuck.”

His gentle affirmations keep you wet, and the sound you make together, the mess of arousal dripping out of you as he works—Seungmin pushes your thighs apart and takes in every little detail.

It does hurt, and it feels so good at the same time. “Please…”

The soft movements of your breasts distract him, and he takes them in his hands and squeezes. The look on his face is dazed, so full of pleasure. So lost.

“…don’t stop.”

"No." He’s not stopping anytime soon, not when it feels this good. “No, I’m not,” Seungmin speeds up, "I'm gonna break you in two," and slams hard into you, and no, he doesn’t stop, even when you cry out in pain. One hand falls down on your mouth, and the other pushes your shoulder into the bed, making you scream out again, but it’s muffled by his palm.

Your hands jump up and squeezes his forearm, and the other scratches at the hand covering your mouth. You can still breathe through your nose, but just barely. Seungmin doesn’t relax, and he doesn’t let up when you grab his side and dig in. Everything goes numb, but your skin prickles with goosebumps. You’re outside of your body again, looking down at the struggle, and the ceaseless pounding of his hips against yours. Every move he makes knocks even more air out of your lungs. Maybe if he comes, he’ll stop, or at least loosen his hand and let more air into your lungs. Time slows down, and lights pop up in your vision. You’re getting dizzy, and your heart was threatening to explode before he attempted to stifle your moans. Your chest starts to burn as you exhaust yourself.

There’s nothing you can do. Seungmin is stronger than he looks. Fingers squeeze into his arms one last time before the feeling disappears, and you think he finishes just as you let the rest of your body relax. Sleeping, that’s what this feels like. Falling asleep…feeling so tired you can’t possibly keep your eyes open any longer. Something in you needs to say his name one last time when the pressure of his hand is finally gone, but so are you.

/ / /

Seungmin can barely hold his body up, because he can’t remember the last time sex felt that good; the last time he came so hard. It takes a moment for enough blood to return to his brain, and for the post-orgasm bliss to subside enough that he can speak, but when he does, he finally realizes how silent you are.

“Hey, sweetheart…look at me,” he runs a soft thumb across your brow, and wipes away a stray tear running down your temple. Seungmin freezes, and the air catches in his throat. “Open your eyes,” he whispers, taps your pink cheek, and caresses it with a softness he isn’t used to giving out. Nothing happens. He pulls at your chin until your lips part to listen for the movement of air. Still nothing. “Fuck.” The shakiness of his voice surprises him. He climbs off of you and collapses onto his pillows, but his eyes don’t leave your still body. “I didn’t. You fucking idiot, you didn’t…” he’s up again and walking on unsteady legs, still weak from the exertion. Back in his sweatpants, Seungmin climbs onto the bed again and straddles your waist. Your cheeks are still flushed, and your lips, also still very alive looking, stay ever so slightly parted. Still, no air passes through them. He knows his own strength, and he prides himself on his control, but sometimes he does lose himself in the moment. But he kept his hands away from your neck. He very specifically forced that on himself, because this wasn’t the plan tonight.

“Hey,” he moves a piece of hair away from your damp forehead, places his lips against yours for the very first time, and he fills your lungs with air. Once…twice. Nothing. He tries one more time, and after, kisses you softly before returning to his spot on his pillows. The puppy plush falls onto his lap, and he grabs it, “you see that, Daengmo?” he says, and points its face toward you, “I still can’t do anything right.”

The first gasp for air feels like nothing—a useless, struggling breath like you’re still trapped underwater, but your eyes somehow open and see nothing but a blue tinted darkness. Hands clench something soft and slick…silky. Still corporeal after death, that’s the only thought you can create. The second breath fills your lungs and you cough it out, hard. So hard you sit up, and he’s there, holding your face, whispering your name. You try to push back, but you don’t think you actually move. Seungmin’s grip tightens on your shoulder, and he lets you fall back on the bed.

“Stay awake for me,” he says.

“No…no, stop”

“I’m not going to hurt you…I promise”

“Seung—” you feel yourself slipping again, and then his hand is on your bare chest, sliding up and down your sternum. It feels good, and you finally feel like you might be alive. “Seungmin?”

“I’m sorry”

And then you’re truly awake. The memory hits you suddenly—the hand caressing you is the same one that was clamped across your mouth. The other pinned you down onto the bed, and you can feel the sore spot where it's going to bruise. You somehow find the strength to move your arms and pull yourself away, but the burning of your thighs, and the leftover pain from the sex makes you shake and collapse.

Seungmin watches quietly as you scramble back up and gather your discarded clothes.

“You need to lay down. Please, get under the covers and get warm.” He finds your sweater, and holds it hostage. “I know I scared you, I'm—"

“Scared me?” Somehow, you manage to find and slip back into your underwear and tank top, but your skirt is nowhere. Why are you even looking for your clothes? You should have been up and running for the door, but your mind is nothing but static.

“No…I mean, what just happened is not what I intended. I lost myself.”

Finally, you go for the door, clothes or no clothes but it’s, unsurprisingly, locked. That’s an unbreakable habit of Seungmin’s. “Please let me go…please.” As much as you want to cry, nothing happens—but your throat tightens and it’s hard to breathe again, so you do the only thing you have left in you—collapse onto the floor and wait. "This can't be happening, not to me...no, everything felt right," you say to yourself, to the door.

“I can't let you leave, I'm sorry.” He hears himself speak so softly, and it's as if it's coming from someone else, from somewhere else…not him. “You shouldn’t even be here right now. What’s wrong with me?” He mumbles the last part to himself, but it comes out louder than he intends.

You stare wide-eyed at nothing, forehead against the door, breathing deeply as you do everything you can to not have a full-blown panic attack. The adrenaline is quickly running out. But you hear the rustle of blankets and sheets, and then you sense him getting closer. His fingers close around your shoulders, very cautiously, and he pulls you against his chest.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay? And then I’m going to take you to the bed. That's all."

If there’s something you can do to save yourself, you can’t seem to think of it, so you give in and let him put his arms around you. And he does exactly what he says—places you gently in the spot he prepared a moment ago, and then pulls the blankets over you. He moves back a little bit, and stares. The strong, sweet scent of him is all around you now, but you manage to keep your eyes closed and off of him.

“I’ll be right back, I’ll get you some water”

They remain closed until you hear the lock, the door, and then him locking it again from the outside. He won’t be gone long. You’re up and scanning the floor again, trying to remember if you had your phone in your pocket. No…you left it on the bar, right next to your empty glass. The balcony…you have no clue what you expect to find out here, but you go out and look left, and then right. And then 25 stories down. The closet. It's spacious and neat; tshirts, jackets, shoes. The black and white windbreaker he was wearing when you first met him briefly catches your eye, but you close it quietly and head for his bedside table. You heard him slide the drawer open and shut right before he walked out. Maybe there's something in there. “Oh…” The inside of it is neat and organized, just like everything else, so you get to see exactly what’s in there with one quick glance: a small knife, concealed in a black sheath, a few small syringes pre-filled with a milky liquid, handcuffs, nylon rope, a gag…"what the fuck"…lubrication, and several more condoms. “This can’t be happening.” A moment later, the lock clicks again, and without thinking, you grab the knife, quietly close the drawer, and climb back under the covers.

There's a bottle of water under his arm, and a mug in his hand. "I am going to drink some of this so you know I didn't put anything in it…and then I would like you to finish it," He takes a long sip before handing it to you, "The water bottle is unopened, don't worry."

Something is different about him. As soon as you woke up, something felt not quite the same. Even his voice, which was so serious, and a little bit solemn before, seems lighter and higher. You stare into the mug and take a deep breath, smelling the chamomile, the spearmint, and the orange. Seungmin finished nearly half of it.

"I'll take another drink," he holds his hand out for it.

"No…" you sip it very cautiously, and then take a longer drink. The taste and the warmth does help, and you finally take a full, deep breath. Seungmin rounds the bed as you sip, and you watch him carefully. If he opens that drawer again, he'll know you have the knife…and unlucky for you, that's exactly what he does. Maybe he heard you. Maybe he can just read it on you.

But he's quiet as he looks, and his expression doesn't change. He just closes it again and sits at the edge of the bed, naked back facing you. You find yourself admiring him again…his neck, his shoulders…stupid. He slides back and relaxes against the pillows, but he keeps a good distance. The bed is big enough for that.

"You have my knife?"

The way he asks isn't accusing. It isn't threatening. It isn't even rude. He asks as if it's just the next part of the conversation. When you don't answer, you see him nod his head from the corner of your eye.

"If it makes you feel safer, you can hold onto it. If you want to use it, I probably won't try to stop you."

"How long are you going to keep me locked in here?"

"I'm not going to let you go home alone in your state, not this late. You can leave in the morning."

"You're lying"

Seungmin sighs and turns on his side, and he looks at you—you look at him directly for the first time since coming back, but you're both silent. Just like his voice, his gaze is softer, and less intense. It’s also full of confusion, like he doesn’t know what to make of you; as if he’s wondering why you’re in his bed right now. His eyes start to close. At the same time, your eyes grow heavy, and it feels just like before. It feels like you can't possibly win against the sleep, and your thoughts wander as you drift; now you'll die, no more waking up.

The sun coming in through the balcony window warms the room. The light slices the bed right in half, and when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is his sleep tangled body—the legs of his sweatpants are pushed up almost to his knees, and his skin glows in the sunlight. He's sound asleep on his stomach for a few more moments, but then he mumbles something that you can't quite make out. A groan, but it's not a good groan. It isn't until right this second that you remember the situation you somehow ended up in. Locked in with him…whatever he is…a murderer? The drawer screams experience, and that experience screams serial killer, but last night didn't seem like an experienced killer. You suppose not every time can be perfect.

What are you even thinking? You pull the covers away and move to sit up, and it's then that you feel the knife, still tucked safely beneath the pillow. So Seungmin didn't sneak over as you slept to retrieve it, because you assume he actually did put something in your tea—something he himself also drank. Both of you fell asleep together, and now you have to wait for him to wake, and hope he meant what he said a few hours ago. No, you idiot. Where did he put the key? It's probably in the pocket of his sweatpants, so you move closer to him as carefully and as quietly as possible.

He doesn't stir. You stare down at his sleeping face as you slip your fingers into his pocket, and again, you admire him—the lips you never got to kiss, soft and pouty. His cheeks, his nose, all perfect and screaming to be touched. Seungmin must hear your thoughts, because his eyes open to you, and his hand clamps down on your wrist. Ice runs through your veins and your stomach drops, but instead of pulling away and retreating to the other side of the bed, you lean forward and press your lips to his, because…you don't know why. But Seungmin kisses back, and he means it—every nibble and lick, every soft moan coming from deep in his chest. You return the intensity, and something about his kiss feels good, but still…

“Oh…right,” Seungmin licks his lip and keeps his chin high, because he knows exactly how sharp his knife is. It grazes his throat, and your shaking hand doesn’t do much to relax him. “How could I forget?”

“Where’s the key?”

“I told you I’d let you leave, I meant it”

“Give me the key.” Now, of course, you can cry. Tears stream down your cheeks, and your hand shakes even more.

“Okay…okay,” he digs in the pocket you were going for, pulls out a leather keychain, and one gold key hangs from it. “Please don’t cry.”

You snatch it, but keep the knife against him until you’re too far away to reach. He doesn’t get up when you do. He doesn’t move when you grab the clothes you finally find on the floor, try the key, and sigh with relief when it works. It’s possible that he finally moves when the door shuts behind you, but you’re dressed and gone before you have a chance to find out.

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magics-neptunes-things · 11 months

Text

A Baby for Christmas

Hi guys ♥

This is a new style I'm trying so I hope you will like it. Please let me know what you think about it! It was very long to write so I'm really sorry if you still find mistakes in it.

Summary : How your baby comes in your life. (Worst summary ever)

Part 2 is here!

TW : Mention of miscarriage, pregnancy.

______________________________________________________________

December

When Leah looked you in the eye while you innocently drank your coke and said "I want a baby" the shock was such that you spit out your drink. I mean, of course you know perfectly well that the blonde has a desire to create a family, you both talked about it pretty early in your relationship. But you didn’t expect her to throw you this information while you are lying on your couch, dressed only in one of her t-shirts too big for you after activities not necessarily adapted to any public.

By the time you managed not to choke, the blonde had added "With you" which made you bow both eyebrows at the same time.

"Thank God" you answered, dropping your soda can on your coffee table.

Leah laughed and grabbed a tissue to wipe your chin, while taking again.

"I think we have everything we need to welcome a baby properly, don’t you think? We have a house, we both make a good living, and I know you’re the love of my life."

After confirming that she were yours (your two-year marriage could have been proof of that alone), you contacted clinics and took the first steps to the path of motherhood.

You had hoped that the test carried out a few days before Christmas would be positive, but that wasn't the case. Even if Leah hugged you tightly, saying you that's it's ok and you will try again, you can't drive away your melancholy.

The following days, you were eternally grateful for Leah’s efforts to change your mind, going out to different Christmas markets or offering different Christmas activities. She knows how much you love this holiday. And you have to admit that it worked and you probably fell in love with her again.

January

"This is bullshit" you complain suddenly, driving Leah's attention on you.

"Ok. But which one are you talking about?"

Leah's answer made you smile and rolling your eyes. You were walking in Hyde Park hand in hand, taking advantage of illuminations that have not yet been removed. In the early afternoon, many families still enjoy the ice rink and the various activities offered by Winter Wonderland. It's the last day of opening and many people seem to still want to enjoy it.

"Genetics"

All you have to do is take a look at Leah to see that she’s completely lost by what you’re saying. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t fully realize that Leah’s were thousands years away from yours.

"Care to explain?" asks the blonde, frowning.

You sighed and stop walking, without letting Leah's hand go.

"I want our baby to look like you. Not me."

Leah’s smile is tinged with a hint of sadness. It's obvious that your child will not be able to have your both features and you find this completely unfair. Aside from the fact that he would just be perfect, when you imagined having kids with Leah, you always imagined them looking like her.

"It’s sad and cute at the same time" Leah comments, releasing your hand to put her arm around your waist.

You pout and sigh softly, letting yourself go against her. You’re not a professional sportsman and Leah is going to make her big comeback on the football fields in two weeks. It made sense that you were carrying your child for both of us.

"There is a way to make it possible. To make him look like you" you add, once again crossing her questioning gaze.

"Babygirl I love you but I swear if you prepare to mention my brother in any way…"

"Ew no, what the hell?"

You frown with cringe while looking at her. She shrug and bite her lip before answering to you.

"Well one of the gynecologists we visited mentioned me the idea, but I’m glad to hear you don’t like it"

"I mean Jacob is cute because he looks like you, but not in this way"

Leah has a satisfied and superior smile that makes you laugh softly and you note in a corner of your head to ask her the name of the gynecologist to go and stick an one star in her Google reviews. But you’d rather go back to the present.

"So, what I was saying before you try Lannister-ed us (Leah rolls her eyes) is that I saw on the Internet that there is another possibility. I can take one of your eggs and take care of the pregnancy. But in the end it will look like you."

"Just to be sure" Leah says with her special accent "You want to take one egg from me (she put her index on her) to put it here (she put her index on your belly) and make the baby grow so he looks like me (she put herself again)?"

"Yes?"

"I like this idea a little to much" Leah smirks.

February

You’ve always hated needles since you were little. Vaccines have always been your hell on earth and despite all the persuasion of your mother, you have never been able to donate your blood. Fortunately, you have never had an operation, otherwise you sincerely don't know how you would have done. When you told Leah about this little detail, she thought you were exaggerating and laughed. But that was before you had to have an injection every night for the goods of your treatment and that possibly you could have a baby in a few months.

"Baby, it’s time!"

You look up from the television to see your wife leaning against a piece of furniture in your living room, a mischievous smile on her face and a syringe in her hands.

"Oh no" you whine

"Oh yes."

Without giving Leah time to react, you jump off the couch and run into the bedroom. That doesn’t stop you from hearing your wife’s voice sigh.

"Seriously?"

You’ve only been on this treatment for a few days, but every day is worse than the last. Leah is doing her best and she is particularly sweet and delicate, but your belly is covered with bruises and it has clearly become your most hated moment of the day.

"Y/N I swear to god!" makes Leah when she realise that you hide yourself in the cupboard. Again.

"Leave me alone you creep"

But Leah doesn’t listen to you and opens the closet door on the fly. You try to escape, but it was not counting Leah’s sporting reflexes that tackle you on your bed. Sitting on your legs, she knows you have no chance to escape.

"Baby please, can we talk about this?"

"Stop acting" Leah laughs softly as she lifts your shirt.

Knowing that you cannot escape it any longer, you close your eyes and take a great aspiration.

"Finished"

You open your eyes to see the satisfied face of Leah, who in the meantime put the needle on her bedside table.

"I have to admit you’re getting better and better at it" you whisper reluctantly.

In truth, you didn’t even feel anything. But you quickly spot the glow that shines in Leah’s eyes when she looks at you.

"I must admit that I particularly like this position" she whispers as she leans over you, putting her lips on yours.

March

"I think I’ll throw up" you nervously say.

"Actually, I think you were supposed to pee on it" your wife objects with sarcasm.

Despite yourself you let go of a nervous little laugh, rising from the edge of the bathtub on which you had settled. Today is the famous day of the pregnancy test and you are so stressed that you wonder if you will fall out, vomit or simply end up rolled into a ball on the floor of your bathroom.

"5 minutes" Leah grumbles after a few seconds, looking at the timer on her phone. "Who makes these tests?"

"Certainly people who love neither women nor children"

It’s Leah’s turn to giggle a little, but the tension is still there. To pass the time, you sing from memory Good Caroline in your head several times, until the timer rings in the room. Leah jumps so much that she drops her phone on the ground.

You exchange a look and you talk first.

"You’re watching. I don’t have the courage."

Leah sighs softly but gets up from the toilet bowl, nervously approaching the two tests you've done. You preferred to be sure of the result so as not to have false hopes, just in case. With trembling hands, Leah takes a deep breath before taking both tests in her hands. Her nervous face becomes unreadable and you will certainly die of stress in a few seconds.

"So what? Lee?"

After a few seconds, Leah puts her attention back on you, her gaze still unfathomable.

"My Love, I swear…" you begin, ready to threaten her if she remains silent one more second.

"Positive."

"What?"

She seems so incredulous that you think you misunderstood. But a big smile appears on her face and she jumps into your arms.

"Positive! We will be Parents!"

April

Lying in your bed, Leah is scrolling on her phone while you have opted for a more traditional way of doing things, using a book. You’ve been thinking about a name for a few weeks without really finding your happiness. Despite the fact that you still go the time, you fear that you arrive at the birth before making a choice. Not wanting to know if the baby is a girl or a boy complicates your task, but it's time to assume this choice until the end.

"What do you think of Alistair?" you ask while raising the nose of your book.

"Of course, if you want him to be able to join the royal family later, it will be perfect" mocks Leah and you roll your eyes.

"I know!" exclaims your blonde seconds later with a victorious smile. "William!"

"William Williamson? Really?"

"Well, yes!"

Your sarcastic tone and arched eyebrow seem to amuse Leah more than reason since she laughs, proud of her discovery. And seeing her happy face, you can’t help but smile softly.

"Harry?" you suggest, a few minutes later.

"No."

Leah’s clear and almost cold answer surprises you and you raise your nose from your book to look at her. Her eyebrows are raised and you don’t understand why. Does she have a hatred you didn’t know about Harry Potter?

"Why?"

"Because Harry Kane and there's no fucking way that my son is named after a Tottenham player."

Leah threatens you with her finger and you hold back with a smile, realizing that the subject is burning for your wife.

"Oh man…" you whisper softly as you resume your reading.

Some time passes and the silence settles, interrupted only by the rain that strikes against the windows of your house. You take advantage of this silence to snuggle up against Leah and you smile as you feel her cheek pressed against the top of your skull.

"Magnus?" you suggest after a few minutes.

Leah raises her head and thinks a few seconds before nodding.

"I like it. You can add it to the list."

With a satisfied smile, you add Magnus to Cameron’s suite after taking the time to trace William. The innocent look that Leah takes when you look at her while doing it amuses you and you rest your pen.

"We’re only looking for a boy’s name, but what if it’s a girl?"

Looking up at you, Leah puts her phone on her thigh and you see her hesitant to speak again. The way she sways slightly on the mattress makes you think about what she does when she stands up and has to tell you something. Fortunately, this was never a serious confession.

"Well… there’s a name I like, since I was a teenager"

"Okay?"

"I’m afraid you don’t like her"

You smile softly, passing your legs over hers. Your curiosity is driven by the fact that Leah doesn’t seem to want to tell you. Taking her hand in yours, you intertwine your fingers and look into her eyes.

"Come on Leah, just tell me" you whines.

"Charlie?"

"Charlie Williamson" you try the first and last name several times on your tong, under the inquisitive eye of Leah, before giving her a big smile. "I really like it."

May

"I'm scared" you mumble against Leah's neck, where you're hiding your face.

You both were in the gynaecologist’s office that follows you during your pregnancy. This is the first ultrasound you will have for your baby. After taking a blood test after a month of pregnancy and confirming that you were pregnant, you considered it unnecessary to specify that you did a test almost every other day. This all sounds almost too good to be true. You feel like something terrible is going to happen to you.

"I’m sure it’s going to be all right" Leah replies with her deep, calm voice, kissing the top of your head.

In truth, she is at least as stressed as you and doesn't pay any attention to the magazine she's reading. She is also the first to get up when you are called, even if she gently reaches out to you to help you do the same.

The gynecologist asks you about your state of health, but you rather want to shake her so that she hurries to put you on the observation table. You want, need, to know that everything is fine.

After a few minutes it is finally the case and you find yourself nervously attached to Leah’s hand.

"We may not hear the heartbeat well, since the fetus is still small" it informs you, which does not help your stress to decrease.

You answer nothing, focused on the images that scroll on the screen in front of you. You look at Leah when she explains to both of you where the baby is, which you would have been unable to see on your own. These white spots are inexplicable to you. But your wife’s wet eyes are enough to make you smile.

"Come on, let’s try to listen to his heart now."

You swallow and close your eyes, expecting to hear a very slight sound after the doctor’s explanations. But it’s actually a fast and loud drumming that sounds in the room, making you quickly open your eyes. The sensations you feel when hearing this melody are indescribable and you only realize that you are crying when Leah gently wipes your tears with her thumb.

"It looks like this baby is in great shape. Congratulations. I’ll let you get dressed and we’ll make an appointment for the next check."

You nod and can’t get your eyes off the frozen screen where the proof is that this baby really exists.

"We’re gonna be parents."

Leah’s sentence, the same one she uttered when discovering the positive tests, seems more like an achievement this time. But you understand her feeling. It seems to be much more real.

"You’re not gonna knock out, are you?"

The look lost in Leah’s gaze becomes clear again when it lands on you and you address her a mocking smile.

"Of course not. Kiss me rather than tell nonsense."

Smiling again, you stand up and put your arms around her neck to kiss her tenderly. You let go of her when she kisses your cheek and neck, enjoying the moment. You’re going to be parents. And most importantly, your baby is healthy.

June

The good weather being back, it's with a little more motivation that you go to Leah's football matches. Even if you haven’t missed one in or around London, not having to cover yourself with layers of clothing is nice. Summer is coming and the end of the season too. Arsenal is pretty well placed in the standings, but it's a FA Cup's match that is being played today. And not just any since it’s the final and Arsenal is playing against Chelsea.

You find yourself in the ranks of families and friends, surrounded by the Williamsons and other family members of different players. The friends are also present since Ella Toone is also part of the ranks, just like Mary Earps and other international players that you have already met several times thanks to Leah.

You're wearing a jersey with Williamson print on your back, Leah's Arsenal cap and you bought yourself a scarf at the booth, which you put on your shoulders. The proud look your wife gave you when she saw you was worth it.

The match is tight and it's with a blank score that the half is whistled. Leah looks for you and addresses you a smirk before entering the tunnel to return to the changing rooms, which you answer obviously.

"Would you like something to drink, darling?" asks your mother-in-law affectionately and you think for a few moments.

Quench your thirst and know that you will run to the toilet a few minutes later and definitely miss part of the game? Or wait for a few more minutes? You end up opting for the second option and given the following of events, you are quite right. If you’d missed that moment, you’d probably have found yourself with a divorce paper under your nose.

60th minute, a corner for Arsenal is played right in the box. The ball is taken from the head by Alessia but ends on the crossbar. However, it’s not over since Lia managed to intercept it and pass it back to Leah who sends a cannon ball to the bottom of the nets.

You expected Leah to rush to her teammates to celebrate, but instead you see her positioning her arms as if she was carrying an imaginary baby and she started rocking it. There’s a big smile on your face when you realize what she’s doing. You haven’t made your pregnancy public yet, fearing you’ll have to announce bad news if things go wrong. It must also be said that the fact that you are not famous and that your belly grew during the winter allowed you not to have too much effort to put in place for this.

Playful smiles on their faces, Leah’s teammates finally reach her height to congratulate her for this goal. These hugs finished, Leah looks for you again among the crowd and you send her a kiss with your hand.

Thirty minutes later, the referee’s whistle rang through the stadium, sealing Arsenal’s victory. You find yourself jumping on the spot with excitement too, cuddling all the people you can reach. You know how important this game was for Leah, who wants to get back to her old level as soon as possible.

It’s only after the cup has been lifted by the whole team that Leah makes her way to you, but you’re happy to see her enjoying these moments with her friends. You smile when you see her running towards you and get as close as possible to the edge of the field. The height of the bleachers doesn't seem to bother Leah who climbs it simply to get to your height.

"I’m so proud of you, Leah" you smile as you stretch out your arms at her.

A big smile on her face, Leah hugs you with pleasure, putting a tender kiss on your lips.

"Did you see my goal?"

"Was it you? I could have sworn it was Cloé who scored that fantastic goal"

Leah snorts and you smirk at her, taking her face in your both hands.

"Have you seen my celebration too?"

"I did Baby. You're such a dork" you smile when Leah laughs and kiss her once again, forgetting the world around you, making you believing that you are all alone.

But you weren't.

"Hum. Mind if I hug my sister, too?"

September

Leah’s flirtatious nature is known in the football world and it never changed when you guys got together. You know perfectly well that there is nothing behind, you saw the way she flirted "for real" when she became interested in you. However, as you often tell her, it's not necessarily as easy to understand for the person in front of her. Because of her sexual orientation, they are very often girls.

But then again, you never gave her a fit of jealousy because she never exceeded the limits you set and because she always proved to you that you could have a blind and total trust in her. Apart from her sharp, chaotic, unpredictable and sometimes stubborn character, Leah knows how to be affectionate, attentive, romantic and tender. You think some people won’t believe you, but you don’t care. That part of Leah is only for you and that’s perfect.

But tonight, you feel your hormones bubbling. Leah asked you to join her in the karaoke bar she used to go to with her teammates. Tonight there’s Alessia, Lia, Alex, Katie and Caitlin. After breaking everyone’s ears on an Adele song, Katie was forced to sit down for the end of the evening and sulks in her corner. Alessia and Leah went back for drinks while Alex started a song with Caitlin.

Lia is installed at your side, but you must admit that you're paying any attention to your discussion. Your interest is entirely focused on the waitress who flirts without the slightest embarrassment with your wife.

"You’re not listening to me at all" Lia laughs softly, making you finally turn your head in her direction.

"No, I’m sorry."

You make a grimace but she addresses you a smile, apparently not in the least vindictive. You like the Swiss girl, you know she had a little fling with Leah before you met, but her behavior towards you has always been impeccable. You can’t tell if feelings are completely erased from her side, but she’s a loyal friend to Leah and who would you blame for someone having stifled feelings for the perfect woman that is Leah?

Speaking of the blonde, you shift your attention to her to see that she is still in full discussion with the waitress. Even Alessia seems to find time long, her gaze navigates between Leah and the table. Noticing that you observe the scene with coldness, she taps on Leah’s shoulder with a discreet nod in your direction.

Your eyes cross the baby blue of Leah who seems to realize the situation immediately. So she easily emerges from the grip of the waitress who had literally grabbed her arm to come back to you.

"A little song Less?" quickly offers Lia when she feels the tension emanating from your body.

Alessia vaguely answers a "Yes please" letting her desire to flee the possible dispute that point the tip of her nose, which would surely have amused you another day.

"You okay Babe?" asks Leah, putting a hand on your leg.

"Don’t Babe me, Leah." You said coldly with an eyebrow arched.

"Come on, Baby, it was nothing. We were just talking."

"Normal people don’t talk to others by sticking their breasts under their noses."

Leah rolls her eyes and you push her hand back from your leg, but the blonde does not let go and passes the same hand around your shoulders to squeeze you against her. You try to escape, but your big belly is holding you back. Now the baby’s on Leah’s side.

"Leah" you try to push her away despite the gust of kisses she puts all over your face.

"Leah" you repeat once again, feeling your anger wither.

"I love it when you say my name" your wife whispers mischievously in your ear.

"Stop it. It’s not funny"

Despite this, Leah has a smile on her face when she resumes speaking, your chin delicately trapped between her thumb and index finger.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it bothered you that much. You know I only see you. It doesn’t bother you so much usually, what changes this time?"

You shrug your shoulders in perfect bad faith. You know why, but you’re not sure you want to talk about it. When it goes like this before, you have a nice time sticking to Leah and making out with her to make your rivals understand that she's yours.

"Dunno" you mumble before you finish your soda.

"You’re lying" Leah whispers in your ear, laying a kiss on the corner of your jaw.

"What do you want me to say?" you sigh softly "she is younger, prettier and she can certainly offer free drinks to whoever she wants."

The end of your sentence was mostly meant to distract Leah from the rest, but it obviously didn’t work. The blonde straightens a little, frowning.

"No one is prettier than you"

"Oh please, Leah, I appreciate your support but I have already gained more than ten kilos. Be realistic. I am. And I don’t like it when women prettier than me flirt with my wife."

But Leah doesn't seem to hear it from this ear since your face always between her fingers is putting closer to hers. Her eyebrows are frowned, much more than usual.

"Nobody’s prettier than you. I’m serious."

You have trouble supporting the intensity of her gaze and you find yourself blushing like you did when she complimented you at the beginning of your relationship. The blonde finally releases your face, but only to tighten you against her, with two arms this time.

"You are my wife. No one is prettier than you."

October

In half a sleep, Leah turns around in your bed to get on her stomach, expecting to be able to curl up against you. Except that it's only the void that receives her, making her frown. Still without opening her eyes, she taps the mattress in search of your body, without success. It's only then that she opens her eyes and rises slightly on the mattress to note your absence at her side.

"Y/N?"

When the silence answers her, Leah ends up getting up and looking for you. She walks through the different rooms of the house starting with the bathroom and ending with your garden, without success. Gradually, the blonde feels panic invading her, especially when she realizes that your pajamas are wisely folded on a chair in your room and that you left with her purse but without your phone or your car.

It's with trembling hands and fingers that your wife grabs her phone to call the first number that comes to her mind in an emergency.

"What’s up Baba?" makes the sleepy voice of Amanda Williamson, awakened at 3am by her daughter.

"Y/N is missing."

********

When you return home, you are surprised to see that an additional car is in your driveway, apparently parked in a hurry. You don’t understand why your mother-in-law’s car is here, or why all the lights in the house are on.

So it’s puzzling that you go to the door, your food bag in your hand. People had warned you that you would have strange cravings, but you didn’t expect to want cinnamon rolls and Beef Jerky in the middle of the night. Unable to go back to sleep and not having it at home, you simply decided to go to the supermarket open 24/24 in your neighborhood to do some shopping.

If you were perplexed when you arrived at home, you have the impression that question marks grow on your head when you pass the front door. Leah is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands and your stepmother in a bathrobe over her nightgown on the phone with someone. Hearing the front door, Leah abruptly raises her head and before you realize it you find yourself pressed against her with blond hair obstructing your vision.

"Okay, she’s here. Yes … thank you very much" you hear Amanda saying before she hangs up.

"Where the hell were you? Are you okay? What happened?"

Leah releases you a little and holds you at arm’s length, letting her gaze slide over every inch of your body to check that you have no wound anywhere.

"I’m fine! I - I was hungry so I went to buy food"

"At 3 in the morning?!" Leah half-scream

"Yes?"

"Without taking your phone?"

"I forgot it."

"For God’s sake, have you lost your mind?! If anything had happened to you, what would you have done? We were calling the cops and -"

"Leah."

Amanda’s voice sounds and you realize at this moment that she has taken a few steps to get closer to you both. Laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she draws her attention with her calm, smoothing voice. It seems to work since Leah turns directly in her direction.

"She’s fine. You were afraid, but everything’s fine now"

The inspiration that Leah takes to calm down is audible throughout the room and you take advantage of this moment of calm to say in a small voice

"I'm so sorry"

The blue eyes of the footballer refer to you and the embrace that you exchange this time is more made to comfort her for once. Over her shoulder, you give your mother-in-law an apology smile.

"Sorry for pulling you out of bed in the middle of the night"

"No worries. But I’m going back now."

She winks at you and kisses you both before leaving the house. Leah is still in your arms and you gently stroke her back with your fingertips, following her spine. Her face is hidden in your neck and you kiss her hair before you speak again.

"Shall we go back to bed too?"

Leah answers you with a grunt and grabs your hand to train you in your bedroom, taking care to turn off the lights of the house in passing.

"Don’t ever do that to me again" Leah mutters and clings to you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear again.

"I’m sorry" you say again. "I know how tired you are with the games and the training. I just wanted to let you rest."

"I don’t care if I’m tired. If you need anything and I sleep, you wake me up. If anything happens to you and I’m gone, you call me. I won’t accept any excuses."

"At your command, Captain" you smile tenderly before kissing her.

"I’m not kidding, Williamson."

"I know, Williamson."

November

"Y/N Y/S/N Williamson, will you please come down that ladder, right now?"

Hearing the voice both panicked and commanding of your wife, you smile and roll your eyes. Leah’s over-protective behavior is growing day by day and you will surely not be allowed to lift any pencil soon.

"Leah, I’m not risking anything" you say, turning in her direction.

"No! Don't move! You will fall!"

Letting the panic prevail, Leah rushes towards you, throwing her football bag and her boots to makes you come down the ladder by carrying you in her arms like a bride. Smiling, you put your arms around her neck and put your lips on hers.

"You’re so strong" you coo tenderly before deposing other kisses along her jaw and into her neck.

You feel her shiver, so you continue your kisses. Leah was away all the morning and the beginning of the afternoon for training and you were getting bored. So you decided to install the Christmas decoration, going up the boxes from the cellar and setting up your Christmas tree. Without decorating it, knowing that Leah would do it with you. You also had time to decorate the windows with stickers and fake snow and you were finishing installing the lights above your windows.

"Oh no, I know exactly what you’re doing" laughs Leah as you, gently resting you on the floor.

"What?" you ask maliciously.

"You’re trying to distract me from your foolishness"

"I will only speak in the presence of my lawyer"

Leah laughs and you can’t help but smile when you hear your favorite sound. Putting yourself on tiptoe, you deposit a new kiss on her lips to which the blonde responds without hesitation.

"How is my baby?"

Her hand gently settles on your belly and you smile again feeling her do.

"He’s in great shape, he’s been kicking me all day"

"Believe me, there is a future talented footballer in there"

"A striker most certainly" you smirk

"No way. He's going to be a defender"

"Or a keeper"

"Who in the world would want to be a goalkeeper, except Mary’s children?"

You know that Leah is joking and that she will be happy no matter what path your child chooses. But if he could enjoy football and become an Arsenal fan, it would probably be a big plus for her. As if to confirm this words, you feel the baby give a new kick, exactly where Leah’s hand is.

"Well hello to you too Buba" Leah says tenderly before bending over to lay a kiss on your belly.

"How was training baby?" You ask, picking up the stuff Leah threw on the floor a few minutes ago.

"Leave it, I’ll take care of it" intervenes the blonde, grabbing you by the hand. "It was ok, but training in the cold begins to become painful"

You smile at her and decide to take her with you in the kitchen.

"How about a nice hot chocolate?"

"I think it’s the best idea of your day. Way above climbing a ladder and being eight months pregnant."

December

Leah is in the training room, surrounded by her teammates when her phone starts ringing. By habit, in case you have an emergency, she leaves it under general so you can contact her anytime. She gave you a special ring, allowing her to recognize your calls compared to others.

"Lee, phone" shouts Alessia across the room.

"Can you look who’s calling me please?"

The blonde does it willingly, rummaging through spare clothes and cereal boxes.

"It's your mother."

Leah sighs and walks across the room to grab her phone and hang up. However, Leah barely has time to rest it that it starts ringing again, making Leah frown.

"She knows I’m training, why is she insisting like that?"

The question is said aloud, but it could just as well be pronounced in his head. However, this would not have allowed Katie to respond.

"Maybe an emergency?"

"Didn’t you tell me Y/N was with her this morning?" intervenes Lia.

The captain’s face breaks down a little and she quickly picks up at this welcome reminder of her friend.

"Mom?"

"Baba don’t freak out, but we’re at the hospital. Y/N’s water just broke."

"I’m… I’m coming"

Just after hanging up, panic seizes Leah who gathers her belongings by embarking half of those belonging to Viv in passing. Miraculously her teammates manage to understand what she explains to them and Lia intervenes quickly, with all the calm and sweetness that characterizes her.

"I’m driving you, there's no way you’re driving in this state."

After refusing that the entire team accompanies them ("It’s a birth, not a summer camp"), it's finally with Alessia and Katie that Lia accompanies Leah to the right hospital. It's finally a good thing that the Swiss woman decided to accompany Leah, she would surely have managed to go to the wrong maternity.

"Leah breathe" Katie says from the back seat.

"Easy to say! If things go wrong? In addition, the baby is early! What if he doesn't survive this?"

"Wasn't the expected delivery date the December 12?" asks Lia, bowing her eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Leah, we’re the 7" Alessia gently intervened.

"So what?"

"I swear to God that if this child inherits your drama rate, I’ll get him enrolled in drama classes" says Katie, sighing at length.

In the room you’re in, time seems long without Leah. Amanda keeps you company until your wife gets here, but between the pain and the stress, you don’t look too good.

"You’re doing very well darling" your mother-in-law gently makes you, to whom you address a smile-grimace.

Fortunately, a few minutes later Leah finally makes her appearance, dressed in a sky blue outfit that you saw a thousand times in Grey’s Anatomy. The relief is so great when you see her come that tears rise to your eyes. Focused on Leah, you don’t even realize that Amanda is taking the powder.

"My Love" whispers Leah as she lays a kiss on your forehead.

Leah tenderly caresses your face while listening to the nurse’s information and you relax as much as possible. You didn’t hesitate for a second when you were asked if you wanted peridulral. You willingly let other women be brave, but you, no thanks.

The hours pass, both slow and fast. Leah does her best to relieve, relax or change your mind. She’s perfect, once again.

It's only around 2am that your baby’s cry finally sounds in the delivery room, after long hours of labor. You can’t tell which of the three of you cried the most when your little miracle is lying on your chest, Leah sitting next to you in bed.

A little blonde hair down, quickly covered with a hat, and baby blue piercing eyes as light as Leah's are the first features you discover in your perfect baby. Just like you hopped.

"So, what will you call this little angel?" the nurse ask you.

"Charlie. Her name is Charlie" Leah mumble, a big smile on her face. "Charlie Amanda Williamson."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

844 notes · View notes

itsbeeble · 11 months

Note

I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.

So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)

OBSESSIVE

Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader

Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it

WC: 2462

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot

Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something.

It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something?

No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically.

In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.

It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day.

Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees.

These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory.

And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.

Fuck, he’s doing it again.

Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you.

A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee.

“Hey.”

Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around.

He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you.

You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him.

The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.”

“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks.

“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.

“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”

Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk.

Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?

“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.

He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg.

“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek.

It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist.

It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand.

Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?

“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—”

Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe.

You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes.

Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.

The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.

“Fuck”

It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.

He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that.

No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.

Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.

A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.

Or you can hear the angry typing.

“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it.

He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you.

“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days.

“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you.

“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad.

Scratch that, he does feel bad.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.

“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.”

Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it.

“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his.

“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”

“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns.

“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.”

“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”

“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!”

He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?”

You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad?

“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.

“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.”

What? “Chan— what does that—”

“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.”

You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left.

“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”

“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?”

The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him.

The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means.

His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched.

Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing.

A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time.

You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.

His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention.

“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you.

“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.

“What was it that you felt?”

He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair.

“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”

You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck.

Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.

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invisiblestringmm · 5 months

Text

chapter four

i’ll tell you the truth but never goodbye

a/n: i hope this chapter makes you cry 😂

tw: there’s a bit of angst, and definitely lots of fluff. y/n struggling with being a single mum. mason being a gorgeous mf. lily being the cutest human, lots of lily appreciation too.

3.100k words

It didn’t come as a surprise to see Jaz keeping her promise to support you as best as she could - you got daily FaceTime calls, texts, and Instagram DMs. You got post-ballet dinners and ice cream, the four of you becoming closer each day - Lily and Summer were inseparable now, and you had Jaz not getting tired of telling you she felt like you’d become the sister she never had.

Not being able to control where your thoughts went, your mind made you question a few times how it would’ve been having this extra support when you were pregnant, and you asked yourself if you’d ever stop being hunted by the countless what-ifs of yours and Lily’s life. You had to stop and take a deep breath and just force yourself to focus on all the wonderful things that were happening now, and how much you wanted them to still be this way when it was time to tell Mason, and everyone else.

Despite having Jaz reassure you that things would end up well, Mason was pretty much unknown territory to you, emotionally speaking - yes, you gave birth to his “mini-me”, but that was no guarantee that you were able to predict him. Not knowing what to expect should’ve made you stay as far away as possible from him, but after you had a text message from Jaz sharing the big news that Mason would be at the ballet recital, while you watched your daughter roll her eyes in the delight as she devoured the pancakes and strawberries on her plate, you decided to reply to that message he had sent you weeks ago.

What you didn’t expect was for him to reply within less than a minute.

“Mummy, are you okay?” Lily had her eyebrows frowned at you, she curiously scanned your probably pale face as your heart pounded against your chest. A simple nod was enough for her to focus back on the pancakes, but also give you occasional and quick glares as your shaky hands tightly held the phone.

You barely had any appetite left as you felt your stomach dropping when Mason texted that - so, he wanted to see you. It wasn’t time yet, at least, it didn’t feel like it. But should the ballet recital be the best place to meet him? Would you be able to act surprised and sustain casualty at that meeting that’d be sort of arranged by his sister?

So many questions and insecurity surrounded you whenever Mason was on your mind, and having to look into Lily’s hazel eyes, her smile, and everything else on her that was his copy only made it worse for you - it was nearly suffocating, and you just needed a mother and daughter moment to focus on anyone but Lilian.

“Peanut,” you poked her tummy, making her giggle. “Why don’t we have a girl's afternoon today, huh? Museum, whatever you want for lunch and we can wrap it with skincare and Moana!”

Lily stood on the chair - your instinct making you hold her arm - and made her little celebration dance, still chewing the pancake, her dark brown soft curls bouncing. That vision completely took your breath away, you often couldn’t believe such a precious girl was your daughter.

Not that all of your days weren’t already hers, but dedicating a whole day off to Lily was your favourite thing to do. When she was just a baby, you often imagined how these days would be, with your little best friend and soulmate, on coffee dates and nights where you’d light up a scented candle and read her a book. The way your voice soothed her was Lily’s favourite thing, combined with your smell. It made her feel safe like nothing could ever harm her. In her dreams, her daddy joined the two of you - she couldn’t see his face but could feel the warmth of his hand holding hers and his laugh was the best sound in the world. Lily wondered if she’d ever meet him, the only thing she knew and was happy about was the fact that she looked like him, as you’ve told her countless times.

Careful not to lose Lily from your sight as she walked three steps in front of you, her eyes not sure what she wanted to focus her attention on at the museum, your mind went back to Mason’s last words to you that morning. So, he wanted to apologise for the way he treated you. Part of you felt good about it, that he had finally recognised what a complete twat he had been, but the other part of you just thought how that made no difference now - it was in the past. Not buried, since your past with him had taken the most angelic human form, but it wouldn’t change things. It was all about the future now.

For lunch, Lily insisted on spaghetti, her all-time favourite food. You had to persuade her a bit to eat a bit of protein too because pasta would make her feel hungry again by the afternoon, and you knew how much she hated being hungry right before taking a nap - your persuasion included the word dessert, so not much time was wasted trying to convince her to accept some chicken with her pasta.

Your phone buzzed with a real-time picture of Jaz and Summer by the time you had just bought a gorgeous bouquet of yellow roses, Lily’s favourite. She insisted that a good girls’ night would only be complete if you had fresh roses, that she wanted to carry herself. You quickly snapped a picture of her and sent it to Jaz, asking why they’d have to grow up so fast and that her niece was insufferable.

“Can you please behave like a child and not like an adult, Lilian Maisie?” like a little kid, you pouted, suddenly emotional to see so much wit and wisdom in your tiny human.

Lily giggled, “Mummy!” she held your hand, placing a soft kiss against it and walking according to your pace. “Can we go home now?” You nodded, quickly fetching an Uber to drive you home.

By the time you got there, she was already heavily sleeping in your arms as you clumsily also carried your purse and the flowers, and tried to open the door without troubling her sleep - if it was up to you, you’d find a way for mums to have an extra pair of arms, they’d definitely be useful in times like these.

You knew Lily wouldn’t sleep that much, so the sofa was where you put her before putting the roses in the water and getting rid of your coat. It was almost dark outside, so you also started to prepare the apartment for movie night. Your little girl woke up with a loud yawn that was followed by a wide smile when she noticed the blankets and pillows on the floor, some candies in a bowl, and fruits too, which were her favourite snacks.

“Matching pyjamas?” you winked at her and giggled as Lily nodded repeatedly, stretching her arms at you so you’d carry her to the bedroom.

A few minutes later you were cuddling under the blankets and watching Moana for the millionth time. You fell asleep shortly before the film ended and were quickly followed by Lily as she hummed an “I love you, mummy” and kissed the tip of your nose.

Despite not being the most comfortable place for your back to spend the night, there was no other place you’d rather be right now, holding your daughter's warm and small body - the smell of her strawberry shampoo and the pace of her calm breathing taking you to a place where no nightmares, no worries, would catch you in your sleep. You woke up in the middle of the night when she moved a bit and, after watching her sleep for a few minutes, finally turned off the TV and quickly texted Mason before going back to sleep.

When you woke up, there was a message from Jaz saying that they’d all go out for dinner after the ballet recital, and as hard as it was, you had to politely decline for you’d have a little celebration with your own family in a pre-Christmas party since a few members wouldn’t be joining at Foxwoods this year. And that you wouldn’t be able to be around Mason before telling him all the truth, which led to you telling her that he had reached you and you agreed to talk. She went from upset to hopeful in the blink of an eye.

As you prepared for the recital, you had to deal with an impatient and bossy Lily - combined with stress from work, that you had to forcefully turn into home office for the Holidays, the exhaustion that took over your body grew by the minute. It resulted in calling your mum for help, who showed up with your dad on her side by your door.

“You know she’d ask for me anyway, kid!” Your always cheerful father rubbed his hands together as he went straight for his granddaughter, who waited for him with her arms up, waiting to be spun around like a doll. You loved how your dad, a serious and famous lawyer, turned so soft whenever Lily was around - and now, how he’d cope with having to eventually “share” her with her other grandfather.

“Where do you need me to begin, amor?” Your mother’s heavy Colombian accent woke you up, and a sigh of relief parted your lips as you pulled her into a hug. “What is wrong, bebe? Tell your mamá,” Her hands softly stroked your back as you just closed your eyes and enjoyed being the daughter instead of being the mum.

“It’s nothing, I’m just exhausted. I thought that being one of the bosses would give me more free time but it’s just more work, and Lily is insufferable with this recital thing,” you sniffed. “I’m so glad it’s finally tomorrow.”

But you also weren’t, because it meant you’d see Mason after five years.

If anyone told you that your daughter’s ballet recital would be the place you’d almost certainly meet her father again, especially without him being the father of another kid there, you’d just roll your eyes and leave - as you stood in front of your closet, not sure about what to wear, your mind played tricks on you creating different scenarios on how that meeting would go. There was so much expectation from you, so much anxiety to see how Mason would react. He thought you’d meet for coffee sometime soon, not at a ballet recital where you were the mother of one of the kids.

Much to your relief, Willow arrived at your place right on time to save you from a breakdown over “what to wear to meet the father of my daughter after five years without looking like an exhausted mother, but also drop-dead gorgeous, and respectful”.

“Lord, that’s specific!” Willow screeched, not really helping you, in the end. “Why do you want to impress him anyway?”

“Willie, I know you’re smarter than this,” you replied as she just shrugged, still waiting for an answer. You got a positive reaction when you picked a knit burgundy dress, so you tried it on and what you saw in the mirror made you satisfied. “The next time I see him it’ll be to tell him the truth, so he needs a good first second impression.”

“His first impression of you was good enough,” she teased, watching your cheeks blush as she helped to remove the dress tag. “But you’re wearing a brand new dress for him tonight, so I’m sure the second impression will be just as good.”

“Stop it, silly. You know it’s not like this, and he doesn’t know it’s a new dress.”

Willow kept teasing you with her glares and smirks as the five of you drove to the small theatre rented for the night by the ballet studio, it was already a bit crowded when you got there and you rushed to take Lily to the backstage, where all her ballet friends greeted her in excitement. It truly was the cutest thing in the world, those little humans in their tutus, giggling and chatting like they were grown-ups.

With a quick and wet kiss on your daughter’s cheek - that made her adorably embarrassed - and a hug on Summer, you told the girls how wonderful they were and left to find your family. You quickly spotted Willow and Jaz laughing about something that made you curious, and although you were happy to see Jasmine, you also hoped it’d take a little longer to meet her and, potentially, the rest of her family. And Mason, to be more specific.

“He’s not here yet,” like she could read your mind, Jaz’s words caused you to sigh in relief. “You look gorgeous, by the way!”

Smiling at her, you softly stroked her bump. “You too, pretty mumma.”

As the lights dimmed down, announcing that the recital would begin soon, you and Willow parted ways from Jaz to meet your family. Your dad held your hand and gently squeezed it, his eyes already sparkling with tears - the truth was you couldn’t have done it without your parents, but your dad was something else. It was expected that being showered with affection would be something you’d get from your mum, who was a Latina, but you got it all from your dad because, according to him, you were the result of how much he adored your mum and Lily was an extension of that. His legacy, as he’d say. He never questioned your choices, the way you raised your daughter, nor why you never talked about who Lily’s father was. The respect your parents had for you was overwhelming, and that’s why you’d tell the whole truth tonight as soon as Lily was peacefully asleep.

When the five-year-olds act began, you were the one ready to let some tears roll down your cheeks. There she was, your Lilian Maisie, as beautiful as ever on her first ballet performance - something you never truly expected, since she had always been the adventurous type of kid. But you watched her balance it so perfectly that you often questioned if she was just five years old, and also how she’d be as a grown woman. As she danced, you had a clear vision of Lily in her early twenties. She was tall, her hair was a bit darker now but the soft curls were still there and so was the natural flush on her cheeks. She was beautiful and finally looked a bit more like you, but Mason’s smile was still there. She was kind, full of hope, funny, gracious and so smart. She was loved by everyone around her and made their lives better by simply existing.

When her act ended, you proudly stood up and clapped your hands as if your life relied on it. Her eyes scanned the audience, looking for you, and when she finally found you her face lit up and that smile you loved so much was there, making your heart melt. “I love you,” you mumbled, and she just winked at you.

Gosh, there was no way Mason wouldn’t love this girl to the point his heart would nearly explode. You wanted him to have it too.

Excusing yourself as the older girls got on stage, you went to the bathroom to fix your makeup. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you searched for your phone and, with a courage you hadn’t felt in the longest time, you typed a quick message to Mason asking if he’d be willing to meet the next day, in the afternoon.

What you didn’t expect was to find him right outside, holding his phone with a wide smile on his lips.

Mason Mount looked as gorgeous as he’d ever been - you could smell his cologne even if you were at least ten steps away from him. Wearing black jeans, and a Dior sweater that made him look breathtakingly gorgeous, Mason ended the distance between you as you felt your heart beating faster each second. He was still holding his phone when he stopped in front of you.

“I literally just texted you back saying yes,” he ran his fingers through his hair and that was as sexy as you remembered. Mason had a beard now, and although he was still young, the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes were more evident now. “You’re the last person I thought I’d meet here.”

You nodded, forcing your brain to put some words together. “You too.” Lie. But you had to make it look like it was just a coincidence.

“You look incredible, Y/n,” Mason said under his breath, his eyes shamelessly scanning your outfit. That same pair of eyes was your favourite thing to look at every morning. Now you knew what Willow meant when she said that Lily and Mason were identical - how could he not notice when they met? “There’s so much I wanna say to you,” he continued.

“Save it for tomorrow.” You interrupted, not wanting to sound rude, and Mason nodded in agreement.

“Can I pick you up around 3?”

“I think we should meet there.” You said, thinking of how suffocating and awkward it’d be being inside a car with him after all these years. “There’s a nice place I usually go with my dau-,” you coughed, watching his brows frown. “With my best friend. I’ll text you the address and we’ll meet there.”

Then, all of a sudden, Mason pulled you into a hug. His warmth against your body melted your heart, and you could feel how his breath deepened as his arms tightened around your figure. “I’ll meet you there, so I can decently apologise for being a complete idiot to someone incredible like you.”

His words were all you needed to know for sure that this wouldn’t be easy.

Was he being genuine, or was he just trying to get into your pants like he did back then? Either way, things were immensely different now, for this wasn’t just about you and Mason anymore.

This was about her - Lily. It was about her future, her happiness, how his presence in her life would have a tremendous impact on how she’d develop and what kind of adult she’d be. Nothing would ever be the same, and there was nowhere to run.

This was going to be tough.

————

BONUS - SOCIAL MEDIA

next chapter

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount series #invisible string mm | chapter four

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writing-in-the-impala · 1 year

Text

Secret Smokes

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: Just over 1k

A/N:

This story takes place in a AU where Harry's parents are still alive so Remus Lupin still has all his friends and there is no war however that doesn't make him any less angsty. Everything else is pretty much the same as the canon universe! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTER LIST | Part 1, Next Chapter

The wizarding world and the muggle world have always felt like two completely different worlds, maybe that's why Witches and Wizards who are muggle-born become outcasts. It's hard adjusting to a school but adjusting to a whole world at 11 is even harder. Even in your last year of Hogwarts you still didn't feel like you belonged, each summer going back to the muggle life that you have always known, working a summer job at a coffee shop and hanging out with muggles rather than wizards. You had friends in Hogwarts of course, some closer than others and even though it helped you feel more at home you knew that after Hogwarts you'd end up working a muggle job.

Maybe that's why entering your last year at Hogwarts didn't seem as intimidating because at the end of the day it didn't really matter what results you got in your N.E.W.T.S. Still in its own way you knew you'll miss the castle and the life you've lived in it. So your final train ride to Hogwarts felt a bit bittersweet. One thing didn't change, once again a new Defence against the dark arts teacher got introduced, this time one called Remus Lupin. He looked a lot kinder and nicer than the last one.

Your first week went by extremely quickly, quidditch practice hadn't started yet so you had more time to just hang out with your friends. All your lessons were easy so far as everyone was settling to being back. The new profesor was quickly becoming everyone's favourite due to his friendly nature, he seemed to befriend every student something no other profesor really did. You didn't really get to interact with him too much one-to-one during lessons as whenever he had free time the girls with a crush on him would jump onto the opportunity. You didn't really care about DADA as you wouldn't need it in the muggle world but you did understand why everyone was developing a crush, you had your own brewing for him.

It didn't take long for you to get home sick, homesick for the muggle world. Nothing really felt right to you, not even the food it just never tasted as good as what your mother would make, you missed your parents terribly it was a lot harder sending them owls than sending owls to wizard families, they didn't really grasp the concept. The twins could see that you were getting down again, they knew this happened every year after summer, and they've always tried to help lift your spirit. "Y/N we were thinking it was a good time to plan the first prank of the year what do you say?" Fred said. "Y/N is in her last year, she can't be participating in your silly games." Percy answered for you. "Who invited him?" George snapped back.

"Percy might be right I can't get in as much trouble as I did last year I don't want to get suspended, I'm on thin ice with old Minnie after the last prank we pulled before summer." You admitted, maybe you didn't care about your exam results but you didn't want to get suspended. The debate continued and you ended up agreeing to planning a prank that you may or may not help with. After dinner you decided to take a quick detour to the covered bridge, at the end of your fifth year you discovered it was empty in the evenings as it didn't lead to anywhere people would go at that time of night, it instantly became somewhere you would go for peace, and once you discovered smoking, it also got added to the list of secret smoking spots.

When you approached the middle of the bridge you saw a figure standing smoking a cigarette, you felt a bit gutted someone was using your spot but also excited at the idea of someone being so alike you. You approached them and they quickly put out the cigarette. "Don't worry man, I'm not a teacher I won't snitch." You claimed as you walked up to them before you could make out who it was.

"I know but I am." The figure replied, you were now close enough to make out that it was Professor Lupin. He was no longer leaning over the edge but standing straight with his hands in his pockets.

"I won't snitch if you won't?" You said pulling out your own packet of cigarettes. And his face turned to a gentle smile.

"I really shouldn't-" He protested. "Oh come on, you're new. This is normal." You preached. "Yeah Minerva and I do this all the time but don't tell her I told you." This got a laugh out of him.

"I may have believed you up until that point Y/N. But that's where you've lost me." He remembered your name and for some reason it made your heart skip for a second, he had so many students that he's met in one week and he still managed to memorise yours.

"Come on I'll give you a smoke if you don't tell anyone?" You reached out the pack to him "Camels?" He questioned while taking one. "You know them?" You took one out the packed for yourself before putting it away. "They're muggle smokes." He stated nonchalant, there wasn't any hate in those words which was rare around these halls. "I like them." You pulled out a lighter to light your cigarette while he snapped his fingers and it was instantly lit. "How did you do that? You instantly snapped back . "Do what?" He smiled while holding the cigarette in his mouth, he was attractive in the moon light. "Light it with a snap." You replicated his previous action. "It's a simple arson spell, just a small flame. I used wand less magic." He explained "If it's wand less why did you snap your fingers? Surely you could've just done it." You pressed. "Yes. You've got me there." He admitted. "So you were just trying to impress me?" Slipped out before you realised how those words could sound flirty, you barely knew the man. Truthfully if he wasn't your profesor and this was an interaction with a student you would be developing a stupid crush on them.

"You could say that." He said, with half a smile on his lips. "I'm the new profesor who you've just caught spending the evening by himself smoking, I don't want you to tell everyone I'm boring now I seem impressive."

"Or insecure." You shot back and he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief at your words. He decided not to reply, instead went back to leaning over the bridge looking out into the darkness and smoking his cigarette and silence fell upon you both.

"I like the camel ones, just because the camel is cute." You broke the silence after a while, you felt bad for calling him insecure and wanted to kill the awkwardness. He laughed at your comment. "You know smokings bad for you? Even if the camel is cute." He said flicking the butt of his cigarette into the darkness. "I know." You quietly replied.

He checked his watch before standing up straight"Curfew has already started so don't stay out here too long as Snape is the one on duty today." He began to walk away. "Professor-" He turned around at your words. "This didn't happen right?" You questioned nervously. "What are camels?" He replied with a wink. "Have a good evening Y/N."

"You too Professor."

NEXT CHAPTER

#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes

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harlowsbby · 1 year

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Morning Routines

“I can’t believe I’m up this early.” Jack groaned and leaned against the countertop in your shared bathroom.

“You said you wanted to get up with me.” You laughed and handed him his toothbrush as well as your toothbrush before putting toothpaste on it.

Ever since you did your nighttime routine with Jack he’s been trying to wake up to do your morning routine with you and since he had a few days off he decided to wake up today and do it with you which he knew he’d regret soon enough.

“So what do you usally do first? Besides brushing your teeth.” He asked and placed down his toothbrush once he was finished brushing his teeth.

“Usually I’d take a shower but I already did that last night so I usually drive over to Starbucks and get some coffee.” He nodded.

“Sounds easy enough.” You smirked. “But you’re gonna be ordering my drink for me instead.” He groaned because you knew you did the most when it came to your orders.

“Babe, you know you have the most complicated orders right?”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your jacket and slippers and headed outside to Jack’s car.

“You wanted to be apart of my morning routine so stop nagging and let’s go.” You told him and got inside the car.

“I just know I’m going to regret this.” He mumbled to himself and got inside the car, on the drive there you had told him your order.

The entire time Jack made sure to repeat your order over and over again in his head but when he pulled up to the speaker box it was if the entire order was no longer memorizable.

“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you today?” The lady sweetly asked. Jack looked at you and back at the speaker box and gulped he had no idea what he was getting.

“Can I get a.. can I get shit.” You covered your mouth to stop yourself from laughing.

“I’m sorry sir but we don’t have that here.” The lady joked making Jack’s cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, can I get a strawberry latte iced coffee.” You looked at him as if he had three heads.

“Jack, you’re kidding right? What even is that.” His eyes went wide. “I mean no I don’t want that.” He quickly told the lady.

“Do you need a minute sir?” The lady spoke.

“No it’s okay I think I got it now.” He quickly turned back to you.

“Babe, can you repeat your order.” You decided to give him a break and leaned over him a bit to give the lady your order.

“I just need a iced white mocha with sweet cold foam please.”

“And what size?”

“A grande please and thank you.”

“Alright we’ll see you at the window.” Lady said.

Jack’s cheeks were red from embarrassment as he pulled forward. “I have a feeling you enjoyed watching me struggle.” He stated.

“I did but it was very cute that you tried.” You coo’d.

Once you got your drink the two of you headed back come where you usually played music and started cleaning up the house.

“Separate your clothes from my clothes and make sure the whites and separated from the colors.” You were putting Jack on laundry duty. “Why can’t I wash everything together? Wouldn’t that make it much more easier.” He asked.

“Jack, are you being serious right now? If you put white clothing with colored clothing it’ll turn the whites all different types of colors especially with the pink and red clothing.”

“You know if you help me it’ll make this entire process go even faster.” You huffed. “I don’t get help when you’re out on tour or at the studio all day, I have to do this all alone and so can you.”

“Well what are you going to do?” He asked and you smiled. “I need to catch up on a few shows so when you’re done you’ll know where to find me.” You palce a kiss on his lips and went into the living room.

He stood there in disbelief for a few seconds but nonetheless started working on the laundry when he was finally done he groaned at how stiff his muscles left.

“Baby, I’m done with the laundry I’m hungry you wanna go get some food.” When you didn’t answer he made his way into the living room.

“Bab-.” He stopped talking when he saw your sleeping form on the couch. A bag of now empty chips laid on your chest.

He smiled and shook his head at you. “You’re something else you know that.” He whispered to himself and removed the bag of chips and placed a blanket over you.

Although Jack would never admit it, he actually enjoyed spending time with you and learning your little routines that make you, you.

(This is kinda like a sequel type thing from the night routines I did, idk where I was going with this but I hope you like it 😭💘)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

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scoonsalicious · 6 months

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 9, Unselfish - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Jade Carthage (now officially a warning!), petty behavior on both sides, oblivious!Bucky, jealousy, insecurity.

Word Count: 2.1k

Previously On...: While on a cute little coffee date, you gave Bucky your seal of approval to start training Jade. You trust him and his love for you. This is definitely not the worst decision you've ever made in your entire life that will probably end up haunting your nightmares. Nope, not at all.

A/N: If I was Pocket, and this was real life (ah, if only!), I don't think I would have made it this far with Bucky (let's be real, though, no one in my real life is that good looking, or that seductively tragic). I would have washed my hands of him all the way back in Chapter Six, but! this is fiction, and fiction needs drama. Welcome to The Drama. We're glad to have you here. Mainly so that we don't have to suffer alone. All that to say, I definitely don't advocate for putting up with the kind of behavior Bucky will be displaying from this point forward. Toxic behavior is acceptable only in fiction, and only when we can recognize that it's toxic, and not something to emulate in real life.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You weren’t going to admit it, but you regretted giving your okay to Bucky training Jade almost immediately. If she wasn’t asking him for extra training sessions, she was calling him with some stupid request or another.

First, it was that the lights in her room weren’t working:

“It was weird,” said Bucky when he’d come back from looking at them. “All the bulbs in her room were loose. Only thing I needed to do was tighten them.”

You kept your mouth shut, simply arching an eyebrow at him and hoping he genuinely believed that.

Next, she was constantly wanting to eat with him. “She’s lonely,” Bucky had told you when he’d left to have breakfast with her for the fourth morning in a row. “She hasn’t made many friends here yet. I’m just keeping her company.”

You let it slide; it was just breakfast following training, after all, and you were usually already at work by then. You still had lunch and dinner with him everyday.

Until she started sitting next to him at dinner, as well. At first, it wasn’t that big of deal; she was just a body at the table, and you could ignore her with no problems. But she slowly began monopolizing Bucky’s attention throughout the meals, asking him questions about combat training, protocols, any and everything innocuous and Avengers-related that made you feel like you couldn’t speak up against it without coming off as irrationally jealous.

After three evenings of being completely iced out of their conversation, you started engaging solely with Steve. It wasn’t your classiest move, knowing how Steve felt about you (and how Bucky felt about the way Steve felt about you) and using it for your own advantage, but he was still your friend, your family; it would have been weirder if you hadn’t spoken to him, at all. Of course, Bucky noticed this, and in seemingly no time at all, dinner returned to its normal dynamic, though you felt guilty about your behavior and tried to include Steve more than you had before.

But soon, she took lunches, too, and you couldn’t really find away around that.

Then she was complaining that the Tower was so boring and could he show her around the city? At least Bucky always insisted that you accompany him if he was going to go somewhere with Jade. It wasn’t your ideal way of spending the diminishing amount of time you had with Bucky, but you tried to make the best of it, though she went out of her way to make jabs and backhanded comments at your expense.

“It was so generous for Stark to have paid for your college education,” she cooed when you were all walking around Central Park together. “I can’t imagine what you must have done to warrant such generosity.”

“I’ve paid him back tenfold by working for him,” you told her through clenched teeth. You were usually able to brush off these disguised accusations with ease, but there was something about Jade’s insinuation that your relationship with Tony had some sort of seedy beginning that filled you with white hot rage.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve worked very hard to get where you are today,” she oozed. “I bet Stark had you practically crawling on all fours to get you in your position.”

You felt the blood rising to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. You shot Bucky a glance, looking for him to tell her off, to defend you, something, but if he noticed the hidden barb in her words, he gave no indication of it.

“Pocket’s a genius,” he said instead, beaming at you and kissing the crown of your head. “Stark knew she was the best of the best, so it makes perfect sense that he would do whatever he needed to do to get her on his team. What was it you said, sweets? He got a good return on his investment in you.”

From outside of Bucky’s line of sight, Jade rolled her eyes, not pleased that her subtle attack hadn’t had its desired effect.

“Oh, Sarge,” she cried, grabbing on to his arm and tugging him away toward the pond, “look at the ducklings! Let’s go see them!” Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as Bucky turned to you with a shrug, as if to say “what can I do?” as he let Jade drag him away.

Annoyed, you chose not to follow, instead, walking along the path to buy yourself a hot pretzel from a nearby vendor.

“Hard being the third wheel when your friends are on a date, huh?” the vendor asked with a chuckle as he handed you your drink order.

“Excuse me?” you asked, pausing in the process of putting mustard on your pretzel. “That’s actually my boyfriend.”

The vendor looked taken aback. “You sure about that, honey?” He nudged his chin in the direction of the pond, where Jade was hanging onto Bucky’s arm as though he were a life preserver and pointing enthusiastically at the ducklings.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you snapped, grabbing your items and turning away from the rude man. You found yourself a bench where you could observe the two of them from a distance.

You had finished your pretzel and your iced tea before Bucky seemed to notice you weren’t alongside him. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he looked around for you, his face beginning to show panic when he couldn’t find you right away. Jade seemed to try to calm him down, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There was a small part of you, not so deep inside, that you weren’t proud of, that was glad to see him freak out at not being able to find you. Serves him right for ignoring you for her. You watched as Bucky jogged back to where he had last seen you on the path, calling your name, Jade following behind him.

“She probably just went back to the Tower,” you heard her say to him. “Why don’t we just enjoy the rest of our day, and you can meet up with her later? No point in letting her ruin our fun,” she added.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky snapped at her. “She wouldn’t do that! Fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten distracted.” He pulled out his phone and you knew he was going to call you.

You answered the phone before your ringtone could even begin. “Yes?” you asked, your voice cold.

“Baby! God, where are you?! I turned around and you were gone! I was worried sick.”

“I’m exactly where you left me half an hour ago, Barnes,” you said. “The two of you looked so fucking cozy; I didn’t want to interrupt your little date.”

You watched as his head shot up, scanning the path until he saw you sitting on your bench. When your eyes met, the relief on his face was unmistakable. You disconnected the call and sat waiting for him to make the next move.

He ran toward you, getting down on his knees in front of you before throwing his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“God, doll,” he murmured into your hair. “You were right behind us, and when I turned around after a second, you weren’t there, all I could think was that something terrible had happened to you.”

You glanced behind his shoulder to see Jade, hip cocked and arms across her chest, looking annoyed. “I didn’t mean to make you worry; I just got a pretzel. But that’s the thing, Buck,” you said as you pulled back from him, “I didn’t follow you at all and it took you thirty fucking minutes to notice.”

His face fell as the realization hit him. “Thirty minutes? Fuck. ‘m so sorry, Pocket,” he said, sincerity lacing his voice as he ran a hand through his hair. “That was shit of me. I don’t have an excuse.” He took your hands in his.

“See,” Jade said as she came up behind him, “she’s fine. Just being dramatic. I told you not to worry about her.”

“Vix,” Bucky said without looking at her, “go back to the Tower.” His voice was low and gruff as he spoke to her.

“What, like, by myself?” she asked, shocked that he would suggest such a thing.

“Yes. Alone.” Bucky said. When she made no motion to leave, he turned to look at her. “Now!” he growled before turning back to you.

“Fine, I’m going,” she said as she started to walk away, but not before sneering at you and flipping you the bird.

Once he was confident she was out of earshot, Bucky stood up and came to sit next to you on the bench. “This is the kinda shit you’ve been worrying about, isn’t it?" he asked you.

You didn’t respond for a while, just looked at him, trying to get your words in order. “I told you that I’m not going to control who can or can’t be friends with, Bucky,” you said eventually. “And I do still mean that. I don’t control you– no one controls you. But no girl is going to love seeing their boyfriend go off with someone else and completely forget about them.” You took a deep, sad sigh. “It hurts, Buck. It makes me feel like… like you only brought me with you out of some kind of obligation, and you’d rather I wasn’t here.” He tried to say something, but you kept talking. “I’m not saying that was your intention; I know it wasn’t. That’s just what it feels like. And maybe I’m being irrational, overly jealous. Maybe I’m being selfish. I don’t know. I’ve never done this before, this relationship thing. Ever. I’m just kinda… flying blind here.” You blinked away some tears that were threatening to fall. “Maybe I am too dependent on you. Maybe you’d be better off with someone who has their shit together and doesn’t freak out whenever another girl gets near you.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling defeated.

Bucky fiercely wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you to his chest. “Stop,” he said, his voice almost a sob. “Stop saying things like that. It’s not true. I am begging you, never think that’s true. Pozhaluysta, lyubov' moya.” Please, my love. Bucky’s voice was raspy, as though he were choking back tears of his own. “Ty — vse, chto ya kogda-libo khotel. Vse, chto mne nado.” You are everything I ever wanted. Everything I need. “You make me so damned grateful that I fell off that train,” he whispered.

You pulled your head back, studying him in surprise. “Buck, you don’t mean that. You can’t mean that, not after everything—”

“It’s the truth,” he told you, hands coming up to cup your face, making sure you were looking at him, really looking at him. “If I hadn’t fallen, I’d have probably died in a German trench long before you’d ever been born, and the idea of it makes me sick. And everything—everything-that happened after, all of that led me to you. I can’t resent a single second of it, because it brought me here, now. Do you understand how fucking precious that makes you? How fucking special you are?”

You stared at him, stunned at his revelation. Bucky took your silence as an opportunity to pull you into him in a bruising, desperate kiss. If you’d been more self-aware, you’d have pulled back, embarrassed at being so brazen with your affection in public, but all you could do was kiss him back with every ounce of love you felt for him. And it felt so absolutely right.

Far too soon for your liking, you both had to come up for breath. Pressing your foreheads together, Bucky sighed contentedly. “What do you need me to do? I’ll do anything you need, you know that, right?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bringing his along with it and you both giggled. “I know,” you said. “Maybe no more outside-the-Tower excursions?” you asked timidly, hoping it wasn’t too big a request. “Or, if you still want to do them, maybe I don’t come with you? Being around her sets me off. It’s too much ”

“Consider them ended,” he said, without hesitation or pause. “Not even a question. I wouldn’t even consider going out of the Tower with her without you with me, and I’m not going to force you to spend time with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said softly. “I feel like such a controlling bitch.”

“No, baby, no.” He tucked your head under his chin as he held you to him. “That is the exact opposite of what you are.” You believed him, you really did, but it did nothing to quell the disgust you felt with yourself.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

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Part Six of Six of Meddling :( I'm so sad. Part One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Ao3 Link.

And I would once again like to dedicate this story to Cass (@henderdads). I hope it's as fluffy as you like <3

Eddie's location shows that he's back at his apartment like Robin had said. Steve isn’t sure why he thought he would be somewhere dramatic like on some random hill overlooking the city – especially since Eddie doesn’t like heights.

So, Steve makes the quick drive over to his tiny apartment and sits in the parking lot. It’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay.

They’re finally going to talk.

Steve makes the familiar walk up to Eddie’s place and hesitates outside. There’s the loud sound of Eddie playing his electric guitar on the other side of the door. He sighs when he realizes it’s “Master of Puppets” which is his so called “battle song” whenever he’s about to face something really bad.

Well, this isn’t good.

Steve sits in front of the door and waits for the song to play out. He isn’t going to interrupt Eddie mid verse and piss him off any more than he already has.

Two people end up passing him in the hall and giving him weird looks, but Steve just smiles up at them tightly and waves. He eventually closes his eyes and leans his head back against the door.

He’s always enjoyed listening to Eddie play, but he’s never listened when he’s been the source of Eddie’s inspiration. He just wishes it was a good type of inspiration.

As the song comes to an end, Steve tries to prepare himself to stand up and knock before Eddie starts another one. But he lingers when he hears Eddie curse under his breath and unplug his amp. He hears the muffled, “Goddamnit... lying... son of a... bitch. Oh, this is so stupid, this is so stupid. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

And Steve is too busy feeling sorry for himself that he doesn’t register the words are growing louder as the sound of footsteps approach the door. Then, the door opens and Steve falls back against the ground.

“Steve?” Eddie asks above him.

Steve groans and grabs his head. He hopes this doesn’t trigger another concussion or migraine.

“Shit,” Eddie says. He steps over Steve and holds his hand out to help him up. Steve grabs it and lets himself be pulled up and led to the couch. “I’ll be right back,” Eddie promises.

Next thing he knows, Steve has an ice pack wrapped in a towel placed in his hand. He glances up at Eddie. “I’m fine. I don’t need this.”

Eddie crosses his arms and looks down at him. “My apartment, my rules. Put the ice pack on your head.”

Steve feels around for anywhere tender and hisses at one spot he touches a little too hard. It’s not raised or anything, plus he usually has too much adrenaline to feel pain after he’s gotten a concussion, so Steve is pretty sure it’s just a bruise. He puts the ice pack on it anyways, not wanting to argue with Eddie. “Can we talk?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs and sits in the worn leather chair in his living room. “About what?”

Steve tries not to roll his eyes. “About the fact that everything was going so well today, and we were supposed to talk until you saw that text from Jordan.”

He watches as Eddie shifts uncomfortably in the chair and starts picking at his nails. He sighs and looks at Steve. “It’s fine. We were just doing a favor for Robin. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. There was always a deadline for this whole relationship thing, and I just cut it off sooner than planned. But if she needs me there to make Veronica comfortable, then I don’t think she should date her.”

Steve sighs and puts his head in his hand. He’ll have to touch on the whole Veronica thing later so Eddie doesn’t get sidetracked. He puts the ice pack on Eddie’s wobbly coffee table then rubs his hands up and down his legs nervously and asks, “What if I wanted to make a big deal out of it?”

“What?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, trying to settle his nerves. “What if I wanted to make a big deal out of it because Jordan means nothing to me? I wasn’t lying earlier when I said I wasn’t seeing anyone. I hooked up with her three weeks ago and haven’t talked to her since.”

Eddie just laughs and shakes his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“What?” Steve asks exasperated because he would really love if Eddie explained things to him.

But he isn’t prepared for Eddie to look him in the eye with so much hurt as he asks, “Steve, over the past three years since you’ve met me, do you remember me going out with anyone? Mentioning anyone?”

Steve shakes his head. Honestly, it was just never something Eddie brought up. He just thought he wasn’t comfortable talking about those things.

“I wasn’t lying tonight,” Eddie says. “Since the moment I met you, I have fallen for you so damn hard, but every single time I’ve thought the timing was finally right and I was about to confess my feelings, you’ve mentioned someone new. It’s been three years, Steve. Why did you never consider me?” Eddie’s voice breaks at the end.

Steve shakes his head. “I just didn’t let myself think I had a chance with you.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie says.

Steve points at him. “Don’t use that word. You know what it means to me.”

Eddie leans forward in his chair and slowly says, “I do, and that’s why I call bullshit.”

It hurts hearing it from Eddie, so Steve stands up and starts heading to the door.

He stops in his tracks.

Maybe Eddie’s right. Maybe Steve needs to be honest with himself. He’s always thought of Eddie as a fantasy out of reach, and in the process, he’s set himself up on so many pointless dates that he knew wouldn’t go anywhere. He was honestly self-sabotaging since the moment he met Eddie because...

He walks back to Eddie and stops in front of his chair. “I was scared, Eddie.”

Eddie scoffs.

This only makes Steve upset. He throws out his arms. “In the past three years, when have you ever seen me have a serious relationship?”

Eddie is silent for a moment, considering before he answers, “Never.”

“And why do you think that is?”

Eddie shrugs. “Because you’re not a relationship guy?”

“Bullshit,” Steve says. “It’s because I was scared of getting hurt again. You remember what I said today at the bar. The whole reason we were supposed to talk.” Eddie looks down. Steve swallows hard and drops to his knees in front of the chair, forcing Eddie to look at him. “I have been scared of you since the moment I laid eyes on you because I knew you could so easily break my heart.”

Steve hesitantly puts his hands on Eddie’s knees and squeezes. “And I was scared of hurting you, too.” He pauses and adds, “Then, Dustin would kill me.”

Eddie lightly laughs at that, and Steve’s heart soars. He laughs with him. “You know it’s true! He would kill the both of us if we hurt each other. God, he’s probably already going to kill me.”

Eddie softly cups Steve’s cheek and says, “I wouldn’t let him do that to you.”

Steve leans into his hand and turns to press a soft kiss against it. “Today was one of the best days of my life, and I don’t want to spend another second pretending that I would be okay not reliving it every day. So, can we please finally get the timing right, and will you please go out with me?”

Eddie stares at him hesitantly and sighs with a smile. “Well, I feel obligated now that you’re on your knees practically begging for me to say yes.”

Steve laughs and shoves his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Eddie mimes zipping his mouth closed and throwing the key away.

“Oh my gosh, Eddie, just say yes.”

Eddie smiles with his lips still closed and gestures to his mouth then shrugs.

Steve puts his head in his hands and asks, “Are you going to make me humiliate myself by trying to find the key?”

He gets a tap on his shoulder, and he looks up to find Eddie nodding with an evil smile.

Steve sighs and stands up. “Why can’t I just have a normal boyfriend?”

“Can’t call me your boyfriend when I haven’t said yes,” Eddie argues then slams his hand over his mouth.

Steve just laughs as Eddie’s hand slowly slides down to reveal his big smile. Steve grabs both of his hands and pulls him up into a hug. He holds on tight as Eddie slowly wraps his arms around him.

“Yes, by the way,” Eddie whispers into his ear.

Steve pulls back. “Yes?” he asks.

Eddie nods with a breathtaking smile. “Yes.”

Steve lets out a sigh of relief before pulling Eddie into a kiss - their first kiss as a real couple.

They both smile into the kiss, pulling away every so often to laugh and whisper things like, “I can’t believe this is finally happening,” and “I’m your boyfriend,” and “You’re my boyfriend.”

And yes, all of those comments end up being Eddie as Steve confirms each with another kiss. But they both end up smiling so hard that they have to pull away and rest their heads against each other.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie says, “How long are we going to have to lie to Veronica about when our relationship started.”

Oh no.

Steve sighs and pulls Eddie to the couch. “You might want to sit down for this...”

He recalls what Robin and Nancy told him, and Eddie ends up nodding and saying, “Yeah, I was wondering how Veronica would feel about Nancy and Robin being so weirdly close. But this makes way more sense.” Steve finds his reaction to be way more tame than his until he asks, “Want to go over there and make them pay?”

Steve shakes his head with a smile. “I think making them wait in suspense is the best way to torture them.”

“And how long do we want to make them wait?”

Steve shrugs. “A few hours, maybe longer.”

Eddie smiles. “And what should we do during those hours?”

Steve presses a kiss against Eddie’s cheek and says, “I have a few ideas.”

“Me too,” Eddie says as he moves to capture Steve’s lips with his own.

Steve can’t believe that this could’ve been his life for the past three years, but luckily, they have all the time in the world to make up for lost time.

But they still should’ve done this way sooner.

-:-:-:-:-:-

One year later...

“Come on, Steve. We’re going to be late!” Robin yells.

Steve stares at his reflection and fixes his hair a few more times before he pulls back to stare at his outfit. He laughs at the yellow sweater that Eddie insisted he had to wear on their one-year anniversary before running off to help Nancy with some emergency.

He’s not sure why Robin didn’t leave instead of him considering that the two girls now live together, but he doesn’t question it too much. Eddie was ready, and Robin said she wasn’t.

He’s also not sure why Robin is fussing so much about getting to the bar on time when the four of them could celebrate both their anniversaries at any time of the day.

“Come on, Steve. We can’t keep Nancy and Eddie waiting for too long or else they’re going to have to keep stalling and insisting that two other people are coming. But what if they don’t believe them? What if they get kicked out for loitering, huh? Then, where are we going to celebrate at? There’s no fair this year, and I think Eddie would die if we made him ride the Ferris wheel again. So, hurry up!”

Steve stops staring at himself and turns to face Robin who has been pacing in the doorway and frantically texting on her phone for the past five minutes. As far as Steve knows, they’re both going to be right on time and probably early if they leave in the next few minutes, He crosses his arms. “What are you hiding?”

Robin looks at him with wide eyes, very much giving away that she is hiding something. “Nothing!” she squeals.

Steve raises his eyebrows.

Robin stutters a bit then sighs. “Fine, I’m just nervous about the gift I got for Nancy for our anniversary.”

“I thought you already gave her it?”

Robin’s eyes flicker to the left. Another giveaway that she’s lying. “It’s another gift.”

Steve rolls his eyes and walks past her. “I know you’re hiding something from me, but you’re right. We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon. So, let’s go, Buckley.”

He keeps pressing it during the car ride over until Robin launches off on a rant about the new lingerie she bought for their anniversary that she doesn’t think Nancy will like and goes into far too much detail about it. So much so that she only finishes her rant once they’ve pulled into the parking of the bar.

“Steve,” Robin says.

Steve stops and turns to her.

She says nothing.

“What?” he asks.

Then, he gets concerned as tears fill her eyes and she smiles wider. “Nothing, I’m just so happy.”

Steve stares in horror and confusion as Robin gets weirdly emotional. “Yeah, okay, let’s get you to Nancy,” Steve says, stepping out of his car and following as Robin practically skips to the bar.

He stares as she proudly holds the door open. Yeah, things are starting to get weird-

He stops in the entrance to the bar and stares at the rose petals on the floor. What?

There’s a guitar strum, and Steve watches as Eddie starts to play on the stage with the horrible acoustics. He recognizes the song from the first night they met, and stops in his place, as mesmerized as he was when he first saw him.

He plays it the whole way through before he puts his guitar back in his case and comes back to the mic. “Hey, everyone, and especially you Steve.”

Steve smiles but then startles as he notices there are definitely more people than just him and Eddie in the place. In fact, it’s... everyone he knows. Dustin... the rest of the party... even Eddie’s uncle Wayne is there.

“A year ago, Steve and I finally got together after I pined after him since the first night we met here in this very bar. Now, the song I just played wasn’t romantic at all, but it’s the song I was playing when I first laid eyes on Steve. And I have never been the same,” Eddie says resting his hands over his heart in a mixture of sincerity and just for the dramatics. “But, a year ago, when we lied to the waiter about our anniversary and scored Robin here some free cake-”

“Hey!” Robin interjects.

Everyone laughs, but Steve, Eddie, and Nancy know it’s true.

“Well, I told the waiter that in one year, I would be back to propose to Steve.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat as it all connects. He feels tears fill his eyes much like Robin as Eddie gets off the shitty stage and makes his way to Steve. He takes his hands. “Steve, I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. And I can’t imagine a life where you’re not in it forever. And with that being said, I think it’s only fair that I get to be the one that goes down on one knee since you went down on two to ask me out.”

“Gross,” Dustin says.

“Not like that!” Eddie yells at him. He mumbles, “Christ, kid is going to ruin the damn moment.”

Steve can’t help but think that nothing could ever ruin this moment.

Eddie then pulls a ring box out of his back pocket and gets down on one knee. “Steve, will you marry me?”

Steve feels a tear slip down his face as he nods and happily laughs out, “Yes.”

He tugs Eddie up and hugs him tight, as everyone starts cheering and flooding around the two.

Later, Dustin, Nancy, and Robin start arguing about who is the reason they got together, but the couple is quick to humble Robin and Nancy reminding them that they’re both the reason they almost ruined their relationship forever.

Nancy apologizes as Robin argues that it still worked out in the end, but Dustin takes it as a victory.

Eddie just laughs through it all, insisting that it was actually his impeccable guitar skills that got the two of them together, and they would be nowhere without it.

But Steve knows deep down that no matter what universe they are in, he and Eddie would somehow end up together.

Thank you to my dear tag list and everyone for sticking around for this story and leaving such kind comments <3 I hope you enjoyed

Tag List:

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#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie fanfic

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jsprnt · 7 months

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your husband loves taking care of you, especially when you're 35 weeks pregnant.

virgil van dijk x pregnant!reader

original request: love your work, could you write a pregnant!reader and Virgil? X

A/N: thank you! this one was so fun to write <3

W/C: 1.640

you shift into another position, again. The soft couch and cushions doing wonders for your back, but still, you couldn’t sleep in your favorite position. Just flat on your stomach, your swollen baby bump not even allowing you to sleep well at night, or take a nap in the quiet hours before dinner time. you felt like you were about to pop, but you still had five weeks to go before your estimated due date.

you had the gender reveal party, which consisted of your and virgil’s closest family members and friends. you both were having a babygirl, the nursery was already cutely designed with a pretty crib and dresser. the baby shower your friends surprised you with was thrown already a couple weeks ago, and not to forget the sweet babymoon virgil and you had gone on. the pretty islands in greece had been a beautiful sights to share with your husband.

the sound of a car parking in the driveway has you halting for a moment. your eyes drift over to the clock on your living room wall. it was past five in the evening already, which meant your husband had returned from training.

you slowly, but carefully get up from your position on the couch, sitting up instead. compression socks alleviating some of the swelling of your legs and feet, your eyes dart to the gray coffee table, full of- everything you could need when being half-immobile. tissues, multiple empty cups, a plate of lazily cut up pickles, a half eaten box of cookies-

“there’s my beautiful wife!” you suddenly hear, swollen, drowsy eyes looking towards your surprisingly very enthusiastic husband. his hands seemingly full of familiar takeout bags as he closes the front door to your home.

virgil’s high energy, even after his intensive training, manages to put a small smile on your face. you hear him take his coat off and wash his hands. so, you stand up, walking- no waddling towards him in the kitchen.

“hi, missed you..” you mumble, feeling him wrap his arm around your back, softly rubbing up and down your sides. you sigh in delight, leaning against his tall and muscular frame, resting your head on his chest. soft sweater grazing your sensitive skin.

“me too, baby.” he mutters, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“I got your favorite takeout. you’re hungry, right?” he asks, thumb rubbing your hips.

your eyes light up, and you nod eagerly. your pregnancy cravings were all over the place. from wanting your usual takeout, to a weird obsession with pickles and chocolate, and the most difficult of all: an icy, crispy red bull. since it wasn’t pregnancy-safe, you definitely didn’t risk it, but your mouth just watered at the thought of taking a sip of the carbonated, sweet energy drink.

“then let’s eat some food. I’m starving...” he says, guiding you to the kitchen island. he’d switched out the bar stools, shortly after your second trimester had started, exchanging them for chairs with a backrest, just for your comfort and convenience.

you watch him grab the takeout, unpacking the dishes.

“you got me the vegetarian one right?” you ask, raising your brows. virgil turns, nodding as he transfers stir fry noodles into a dish and slides it in front of you.

ever since you got pregnant, you detested the smell of meat. virgil being the sweet man he is, did research with his own nutritionist to see how you could still get all the vitamins and nutrients you needed without having to eat meat.

“here baby, eat up.” he mutters, giving you a fork, before walking towards the fridge. he grabs two cans of sparkling iced tea, coming back to sit next to you as you both dig into your meal.

“how was training?” you mumble, chewing down your food, maybe a little too fast.

“good, we were in the gym the entire day- slow down baby, the food isn’t going anywhere..” he chuckles, reaching into the takeout bag and retrieving the napkins. wiping sauce off the corner of your mouth with one.

you both continue eating the delicious food, Virgil’s hand soothingly running down your back every now and then.

“I’m going to take a quick shower.” he says, cleaning off the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

“can I join? can’t get my hair wet though..”

“sure baby, let’s go.” he quickly says, helping you off the chair and into the bathroom.

“my legs have been killing me..” you mutter, watching virgil take your compression socks off. you were glad you didn’t need them on your hands, though your fingers had gotten pretty swollen. prompting virgil to gift you a chain you could hang your wedding ring on, to wear as a necklace instead.

you allow him to guide you into the shower, his hand settling on the small of your back in support. virgil chuckles deeply as he watches your makeup melt off with the touch of the streaming warm water. he made sure to put on your shower cap beforehand.

“you wore makeup? where did you go today?” he asks, allowing you to reach up and take off his hair tie, dark curls falling to the side of his face.

“went for brunch with the girls. it was so good..” you answer, allowing virgil to run the soapy washcloth down your body, making sure to clean you up nicely. paying extra attention to scrub your legs, since you couldn’t reach down, you needed his help more often than not.

grabbing a fresh towel, he wraps you in it. allowing you to walk out of the bathroom and sit on your bed. waiting for him wash himself.

that’s what you loved about him, he always put you first. whether it was you eating first, getting dressed, falling asleep, or anything at this point in your pregnancy.

you quickly grab your undergarments and loungewear, going back to sit on your bed. towel wrapped snuggly against your body, as you take off your shower cap and wipe the extra moisture on the towel.

you look up to see virgil walk out of the bathroom, towel hanging on his hips. you lean back, admiring him, a small smirk forming on your lips.

“what?” he asks, smirk clearly on his face too as he walks up to you.

“oh, nothing, just admiring what’s mine..”

“really? let me admire what’s mine too then..”

he cups your face as you look up, his wet hair falling in front of his face as a single drop of water drips down onto your cheek. a low chuckle leaving his lips as he swipes it away with his thumb.

he helps you get dressed before the two of you get too distracted, not forgetting to rub bio-oil and lotion on your bump and body. the both of you snuggling up together on the couch. your head laying on his broad chest, tatted arm wrapped around your back.

You pause for a moment, feeling your daughter kick against your uterus. you feel virgil’s hand running against your clothed bump, you place your own hand next to his. feeling her kick was still the most out of body experience to the both you. you could’ve sworn you felt the outlines of her little feet as she kicked like didn’t want you to rest tonight.

“active today, isn’t she?” your husband asks, kissing your temple.

“just like her daddy..” you raise your bows, grinning. the consequences of having an athlete as your partner.

“she’ll definitely be as beautiful as her mommy..” he responds, causing your grin to grow into a bright smile.

“what do you want to watch, hm?” he asks, looking down at you, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

“love is blind, the new episode is out.”

he chuckles, his chest vibrating against your cheek as you watch him turn the tv on with the remote.

in the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t too keen on watching shows or movies like that, but the second there was some drama unfolding, he immediately got hooked and it became a thing you both did to wind down after busy days.

“wait- can you grab snacks?” you ask, looking up from his chest. you knew he couldn’t say no to you, because he looked like he had melted at the sight of your face already.

“your cravings are really going off the rails, aren’t they?” he asks, placing a kiss on your lips before slowly getting up.

“don’t see the problem!” you exclaim, looking over to see him open the kitchen cabinets and grab a bag of crisps and salty popcorn, transferring it into bowls before walking back over to you.

“here you go, for my hungry monster..” he teases, prompting you to roll your eyes playfully.

you both start watching the hour long episode, empty bowls on your lap by the end of it. though, you both don’t move from your spot on the couch, virgil’s hand soothing on your slightly aching, lower back.

“you okay?” he asks, your own hand resting on his bicep.

“back hurts a bit, baby’s getting heavy..” you mutter.

“I’m know, sorry love. do you need anything?” he asks, kissing your temple and rubbing your back more thoroughly. he had a tendency to ask what you wanted or needed, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

“just- can I ask you something?” you begin, holding back a grin. he’d done enough to make you feel comfortable already.

“yeah?”

“would you mind if I broke your fingers during delivery?” you chuckle, having a laugh. knowing he would probably let you squeeze the absolute life out of his hands.

“of course, during delivery you can squeeze and cuss me out all you want..” he smiles, brushing his thumb against your baby bump.

you did cuss him out, but breaking his fingers, almost…

#virgil van dijk #football imagines #football fanfic #virgil van dijk fanfiction #liverpool fanfic #liverpoolimagines #virgil van dijk x reader #virgilvandijk #football #liverpoolfc #virgilvandijk imagines #virgilvandijkimagines #virgil van dijk blurb #liverpoolfc blurb #football blurb

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innorogers · 13 days

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Lucid

Steve Rogers x Dark Past Reader (You)

Summary: Steve finds out about your past. You're nothing as he thought you were. You are better.

Warning: Steve struggling / Past revelations / You don't have to read this: Chapter 1 - Insomnia, but it would enhance the experience if you did.

What do you do the night you meet the love of your life? You spend it with to him—talking, hugging, kissing, teetering on the edge of going further... but it doesn’t matter, because one day, you won’t recall the specifics. Years from now, future you will think back to this night and remember only the magic you felt, the moments your heart skipped a beat, and the wonder of it all.

In the present, as the first rays of sunlight rise from the east and touch your face, you can barely keep your eyes open, almost drifting off against Steve’s shoulder. Once he finds out you’ve just come off a 13-hour shift, he insists on walking you to your dorm. And though it seems to take every ounce of his willpower, he refuses your unspoken invitation to stay. Ever the gentleman.

After a shift that handed you five hours of overtime, you managed to get immediate compensation—and even figured out how to maximize your sleep: you'll shower later.

So, after Steve kisses you goodbye for the sixth time, you finally close the door and collapse into your pillow. Though, to be honest, you’d rather be falling asleep on his chest.

Captain America, on the other hand, was more awake than ever. The last time he felt this energized was when they thawed him from his popsicle state. It was like walking in sunlight, and he half-expected some cheesy background music to play as he moved through the halls.

But, as always, fate was waiting in the corner to throw a punch and kick his perfectly peach shaped ass.

You were still on his mind when he stepped into the Level 0 – Avengers Only common room. You hadn’t left his thoughts since he said goodbye to you... thirty minutes ago.

To his surprise, Natasha was already there – she was never up before 11 – typing something into a computer - she was also never on top of her paperwork -.

“Oh wow, this is rare.” Steve was in a mood—no, actually, "mood" wasn’t the right word. He was still wonderstruck, wrapped up in his own bubble of happiness because of meeting you.

“Haha, hilarious,” Natasha deadpanned without even glancing up. “Go ahead and laugh now, Rogers. One day, that ‘I’m from the 40s, I don’t know this shit’ lame excuse is not gonna to fly anymore, and you’ll actually have to do some of this.”

“Well... by then, hopefully our genius philanthropist will have invented something to take this torture off our hands,” Steve replied, handing her a cup of coffee.

Now he had her attention.

“Someone’s in a good mood…” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Alright, spill.”

“Oh no, not a chance,” Steve shook his head, grinning. “Not happening.”

But after a pause, he added, “Hey, we have full access to everyone’s records here, right?”

“Yeah, Level 0 clearance,” Natasha replied, still focused on her typing. “You’ve got everything on your phone. Why?”

Steve glanced at your name in his phone and tried to sound casual. “What do you know about an engineer?” He wasn’t entirely sure if that was your title—you had mentioned it, but he had only been paying attention to the important stuff (like your favorite ice cream, song, hobbies, and what you wanted to do this Saturday night…).

“You’ll need to be more specific. I need an ID or at least a last name.”

“Illithya Lancaster,” he said softly, almost smiling as your name left his lips.

“Oh yeah,” Natasha responded immediately, “the one that goes by ‘Twelve,’ right?”

That got Steve’s full attention. He sat up straight, frowning. “‘Twelve’? Is that a nickname?”

“Code Name 12. Subject ID HE0012.” Natasha continued typing as though she were battling something. “You know what that means.”

“No.” Steve’s voice turned rigid. “I don’t.”

The typing finally stopped, and Natasha swiveled around in her chair to face him. “H for Hydra, E for experiment, number 12. She was one of Hydra’s experiments, Steve.”

That was a bucket of ice water he hadn’t expected. Right to the spine. Steve took a few seconds to find his voice.

“What?”

“There.” Natasha handed him an iPad with all the information: “See, here she is. Um… mission rescue R804, Siberia… Sokovia… yeah, she’s on Hydra's top confidential list, one of the few we’ve got. Stark moved mountains to save her from rotting in a federal prison for eternity.” She spoke quickly as she read, her voice unusually soft, full of compassion.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to recall if you’d mentioned anything about a nickname last night, but he didn’t think you had.

He could barely think. His voice, distant and faint, whispered: “‘Twelve’? What… happened to the other eleven?”

Swiping the iPad, Natasha didn’t even look up, just shrugged: “What do you think?” She didn’t notice Steve’s face go pale instantly.

“Illithya was the only survivor, barely. Used and discarded as anything Hydra could imagine… like something disposable.”

She sighed. “I’ve seen awful things, but this is one of the files I try to forget.”

Steve’s mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t think, and the pain in his chest seemed to crush every fiber of his being.

He couldn’t believe it. You, his treasured little secret, his enchanted, magical midsummer night, this beautiful, pure soulmate he’d fallen with—the one who told him a fairy would bring him all the stars—had been used, abused, treated like a guinea pig, nothing more than a lab rat?

He was beginning to understand the emotions rising within every cell of his body: a mix of uncontrollable anger, sadness, and fear.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice wavered slightly: “...How… how long was she experimented on?”

Natasha set the file aside and looked him straight in the eye. There was empathy there. She knew Steve was shaken, so she softened her voice as much as she could, though her words remained honest.

“‘Till we got her? A lifetime. She was born and raised in captivity. Her entire existence was based on an experiment.”

Steve closed his eyes. It was more than he could bear. The pain he felt intensified with every word Nat spoke.

He clenched his fists, veins bulging with rage. How could they.

“How did you rescue her?” He found himself asking in a calm voice, as if inquiring about any other case.

“We didn’t. She escaped, and we found her. After you and Tony split in Siberia.” Nat pulled up the file again on the tablet and handed it to him, but Steve didn’t look. He wasn’t ready.

“So, until she got away…” Steve heard his voice, sounding unnervingly emotionless, and he hated it. “Was she under Hydra’s control her entire life?”

Black Widow didn’t respond at first. She nodded, just barely, while watching him. She was using the spy stare, reading everything beneath the surface, interpreting every unspoken word, every pause, every silence was a puzzle piece for her to figure out the entire picture.

“A lifetime under Hydra…” Steve whispered.

And he felt awful for saying it.

But there it was, a poisoned seed growing in the shadows of his mind. Steve wanted to bury it deep, but he couldn’t stop.

The doubt crept in, spreading like a toxin—the thought that everything you’d been through had changed you.

How could you ever purge Hydra’s venom from your veins? Was it still there, lurking in every dormant cell, slowly expanding like a plague, consuming all the good, the magic, the purity in you? Corrupting you?

“Stop,” Natasha suddenly said.

She gave him a look Steve recognized—she was about to ask something that would make him think, really think.

After a deep breath, she spoke: “If you’re asking about her, it’s because you’ve met her, right? So, what do you think? Did she seem like a…villain? Or was she different? Special, maybe?”

Steve leaned back into the chair at her words, the memory of you filling his mind again, your innocence, your weird yet adorable responses, your naivety, your smile…You.

The touch of your hand, the softness of your voice, the pureness of your soul. The way you’d clung to him, spoke to him, trusted him, kissed him. He exhaled slowly, a ghost smile on his face.

“No. I never thought of her as a villain. Or as any…negative. She was different, more than different. She was…she is…incredible…she’s wonderful…she’s…” Perfect.

Natasha remained in silence. Staring at him. Then she leaned up, her words like splashed ripples on the spring's surface. “Why do you trust Barnes, Steve?”

Her tone was calm and serene, yet it made Steve clench his fists. The question was unexpected, but not unanticipated—he knew she’d ask; she always pushed when she had that look.

“He was, or is, more Hydra than anyone we’ve ever rescued from those hellholes, yet you risked everything to save him.”

“That’s different. I know Bucky, he’s all I have left of my past. And he was brainwashed.” You weren’t. You acted, and you act by choice… don’t you? Steve panicked at the thought. Everything you did, you did with your heart… right? Everything that happened last night, was true…Right?

“So if she wasn’t brainwashed, she’s guilty?” A slight ironic smile tugged at Nat’s lips. “Even though she never asked to be born into a Hydra experiment, or to live in captivity. Is she at fault, Steve? For not trying hard enough to escape?”

Steve froze at her words, realizing what she was getting at. You weren’t brainwashed, no, much worse, you’d grown up knowing nothing of life outside Hydra. You weren’t just a victim. No. He thought of you. You were a survivor. A fighter.

“That sounded a bit protective.” Steve looked at his fellow Avenger, studying her expression. “Was it just a rescue mission, Nat? You don’t usually…attach to people.”

Letting out a laugh, Natasha returned to her usual mysterious, lazy smile. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.”

She hesitated but finally spoke under Steve’s gaze: “She’s… different, Steve.”

A slight, warm smile crossed Black Widow’s face.

“She’s kind…and good. I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s innocent. Her heart… it’s pure.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Nat’s words. He could hear the awe in her voice, and it made him think of you: The way you’d looked at him, the sparkle in your eyes. Tiny butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he remembered the way you’d laughed and how they took flight when he kissed you.

Without even realizing it, his voice became as tender as it could be: “Yes. She is all those things.”

“Like I said.” Natasha leaned back in her chair, her fingers returning to the keyboard. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.”

LAB 278—it had taken some time to find.

Steve silently thanked Jarvis for lighting the way as he stepped into your lab—your private, secluded lab, hidden almost a 20-minute walk from the central facilities. Steve hadn’t even known this place existed on campus.

He pushed open the door and saw you through the thick glass. He couldn’t help but marvel as he took in the entire space. Your lab looked like a greenhouse, with plants everywhere—on the desk, under the tables, on the floor, shelves, and windows. Long curtains of leaves hung down from the ceiling like rain falling through broken glass.

Large screens dominated the room, and then Steve’s eyes widened at what he saw next.

An armory. Their. Armory.

A bow being analyzed by lasers, prototypes of metal gauntlets, shattered helmets, and torn suits.

And then, he saw you.

You were cleaning his shield.

Everything fell into silence when his gaze rested on you. The whole place became a quiet green ocean, so still that Steve could almost hear the plants breathing. And his own heartbeat. That stopped when you lifted the shield and gently kissed it.

“Do a good job,” he heard you whisper to it. “Protect him. Keep him safe.”

Steve snapped out of it as those words echoed in his mind. He had a hundred questions, but they vanished in that instant. He wasn’t even thinking—he was reacting—as he stepped forward and opened the door.

The look on your face when you heard the noise and turned around was indescribable. All the tension in your expression softened, and the light in your eyes brightened.

Steve wondered, how he’d been so blind, so stupid, to believe some reports instead of trusting…you.

“Oh. Hi…” You smiled, joy sparkling in every corner of the room.

God, that smile. The happiness in your eyes at seeing him weakened his knees. He spoke, his voice softer than he’d expected.

“Hey...”

You almost run to him under instinc. Wanting to move closer, to take his hands, but…you weren’t sure. Was it too much? Too fast? What are you (or this) supposed to be? Are you even dating? Will he hate it? So, you blushed and stood still. “I…I um… I’m so glad you’re here.”

Steve noticed the way you flinched, the way you wanted to reach out but held yourself back. It made him feel…sad, like something was cracking in his chest. He wanted to reach out and take your hand. But he didn’t—not yet.

Instead, he stepped closer, his voice gentle as he smiled. “…And I’m very glad to be here.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or if you were just lost in his eyes, but your mind was racing, and you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out something dumb, like really dumb.

“I missed you.”

Oh, what the hell. You wanted to bite your tongue. Especially when you saw Steve freeze. Okay, that was stupid as fuck, you thought, looking down, unsure of what to say next.

“I’ll take it back, I’m sorry, that was stu—” But before you could finish, you were pulled into a tight embrace.

Steve pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, protective hold. As if he wanted you to melt within him.

He realized how absurd he had been for holding this back, how deeply he craved you. Like a primal longing, like a dying plant thirsting for a drop of dew, or desperate for air.

“Please…don’t be.” He whispered, pressing your head to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair, his eyes closed as he sighed. “I missed you too.”

“Oh.” You awkwardly ran your hands along his back, fumbling at first, before simply giving in and hugging him tighter. You caressed his neck until he rested his forehead against yours, exhaling deeply.

And you smiled.

“So…you did find out, huh?”

He stood silently, with his chin in your shoulder. And after a while he said in a bitter tone: “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause you look exactly like Tony and Natasha did when they found out. And… because you’re in my lab. I mean, I don’t think this place is a hot spot, huh?” You laughed and broke the hug slightly, but he tightened his grip on your waist, unwilling to let you pull away.

You caressed his face, inhaling the warmth of his breath, and looked into his eyes.

"Steve, what happened to me isn’t a burden for you to carry, you know that, right?”

Steve froze.

Isn’t it?

Wasn’t it because he hadn’t destroyed Hydra when he had the chance?

Because they didn’t find out sooner?

Because… he wasn’t there?

You struggled to read people, especially someone you cared about, so when you saw the pale, stiff look on his face, you paralyzed.

Was that why he came? To tell you it was over? Well…to be honest, you wouldn’t blame him. After all… you were you, and he was… Steve Rogers. And you were…Hydra’s Frankenstein.

That thought must have shown on your face, because Steve noticed the change in your expression—fear and shame, like you were some kind of Quasimodo who had his mask ripped off.

The mere thought made Steve’s blood boil—the idea that he might reject you because of your past, as if you were to blame for things you couldn’t control. As you were…sinful and…bad.

He suddenly cupped your face and spoke firmly, the words echoing from his heart, the same words he should have said the moment Natasha told him the truth.

“Hey, hey… look at me. Look at me.” He stared straight into your eyes. "Don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt… us.” His voice was filled with protectiveness and anger. “I’m here, and I…” I’m falling for you.

“Do you regret it?” Your voice trembled. “Last night… do you regret… meeting me?”

“No.” His voice was steady and resilient, unwavering and unshakable: “Not in a million lifetimes.”

You held your breath for a moment, trying not to cry. Then spoke as you were telling a secret.

“I always wondered…What would I have been like if I were… normal? If I had normal parents—a father working in a bank, a mom as a teacher. I’d go to school, go to prom, fall in love… have friends… but…”

You pressed your fingers into his hand and smiled softly.

“… I wouldn’t change anything about my past, if that was the road I had to take, that leaded me…to finally meet you.”

Steve felt like he could’ve started crying at any moment.

Your past had left a crack in his heart, something he could never fix, something that would always hurt. And yet, you said it was all worth it? All the suffering, all the pain… just to meet him? How could he… how could he deserve you? He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

“God…” he murmured, his voice filled with pain. “How can you say that… how can you still be so…”

Kind. Good. Pure.

Natasha was damn right. You were everything she said, and more.

“Hmmm… Maybe…” You thought out loud. "Maybe I always knew I’d meet you someday, and I had to be good enough… to be… worthy.”

Steve exhaled, trying to calm the storm in his heart and mind.

The weight of your words hit him hard. He paused for a moment before he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, as if that could protect you from all the misfortune or pain that might come in the years ahead.

“Damn it…”

His voice broke as he whispered.

“I can’t believe I found you…”

“Well then,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

“Thank you for finding me.”

Time stilled for a moment, but before he could think, Steve’s body had already reacted, he pinned you against the workbench as his hand weaved through your hair, and his lips pressed yours in a deep kiss.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he needed you, wanted you, to hold you as close as possible, without letting you go ever again.

All the composure he had been trying to maintain disappeared the moment he felt you.

Your lips, your tongue, your scent… Any sense of reason was hanging by a thread.

He lifted you onto the desk, sending pens and books scattering to the floor, but he didn’t give a damn. Not when your legs wrapped around his hips and you moaned his name as his hand tightened around your waist.

“Jesus…”

The way your voice sounded, the way you were looking at him, the way you were sitting with your legs around him, everything was driving him desperately crazy, struggling to keep control to not to tear your clothes off and make you his right there.

He broke the kiss before doing something reckless, but his body was tense, and his breathing panting.

“You’re driving me crazy…” He breathes heavily, leaving a deep kiss in your forehead.

“What?” Your mind was still spinning from his kiss, and you replied without thinking: “Well yeah, welcome to the club.”

Steve left out a laugh, All the intense revelations from earlier had nearly made him forget just how incredible your comebacks were.

He looks down and kisses you again, this time with more tenderness than passion, and he speaks as he continues.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I left you this morning…”

“Can you…” You could barely form a word without moaning: “Can you think…of taking this further?”

“…”

That made him stopped.

The suggestion sent a shiver down his spine. Oh you and your amazing comebacks. His mind suddenly flashed, imagining all the things he’d wanted to do to you, maybe in his room, in the bed, with you under him, moaning his name as you just did, only louder and louder…

Steve quickly shook the thought from his mind, trying to force himself back to reality.

“God… please don’t tempt me.” He could feel his body reacting to his own imagination, so he pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists, trying to regain some control.

“I…” You wanted to say, "I don’t mind," or even, 'I don’t give a damn if you take me right now...You know what, there’s actually a bed at the back of this lab.' But then his phone rang.

“What the hell…” He glanced at the caller ID and groaned, “For gods sake, what timing…” One hand reached for the phone while the other held you firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, give me a sec.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of him calling you that for the first time, but before you could process it, Tony Stark’s voice echoed through the empty lab.

“I don’t know what you are doing there, Cap…And trust me, I don’t wanna know…but Jarvis just sent me a reminder, to remind you, that there are cameras everywhere in the working campus. Everywhere.”

You could tell there was a humorous tone in Iron man’s voice.

“Even in remotely located labs for top secret employees.”

End but TBC-

Continue to: Chapter 3: Reverie

Alright, thanks for reading up to here. Hope you enjoyed it!! <3

So when I started writing Part 1, I was like, 'Oh, let's just write cute one-shots and short stuff.' And here I am with a complex OC and a struggling Steve. I'm so sorry for that :3 I just can't help myself!

Part 3 comes with 'the one night I made you mine and made you beg' thing I was hoping I'd finally get to. I promise! (Still have no idea how I'm writing that through my working shifts, tho.)

Okay, have a good one <3 Lmk if you liked it ? Report and everything is highly appreciated <3 :D

Love.,

Moon.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x ofc #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

two | chapter list

Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Sirius Black smells like winter. The deep and fruity fragrance of cranberries, pomegranate, maybe cinnamon. You aren't certain, and if he weren't currently an inch from your face, you'd ask him what it is.

"You poor thing," he murmurs, dabbing very, very gently against the bruised skin of your cheek.

"It's not–" You hiss at sudden pressure. He immediately recedes. "It's not so bad."

"I've half a mind to rag him around and take up the mantle myself."

"I'd love to see that," Remus says.

"I'd look good in the uniform, right?"

James doesn't look happy at their joking but he's been nothing less than a grovelling puppy since last night, and he breaks his silence to say, "You don't have to wear any make-up if it's going to hurt."

"Uh, yes she does. Imagine the headlines otherwise: Lost Princess Bruised Under the Imbecilic Watch of New Bodyguard," Sirius announces, sharing a not-so-private smile with Remus across the coffee table.

"It doesn't hurt," you say to James.

You're lying. Being smacked in the face with a door isn't just embarrassing, it really fucking hurts. James' biceps aren't for show, that's for sure. He'd swung open the door and you, having tripped seconds beforehand over the cord of your lamp, had been at the perfect height for it to bounce off the highest point of your cheek.

"Princess," he says now, as he'd said last night, "I'm so sorry."

You think of his hands under your arms pulling you up into a standing position, and the way he'd tilted your head back. The barking order he'd given Frank to grab something to use as an ice pack, and the warmth of the pad of his thumb as it stroked the soft line of your jaw.

"It was a freak accident." You smile, careful not to push up your cheeks lest you invite another round of shooting pains. "Please don't feel bad. It's my fault for being up in the first place, I– I couldn't sleep."

"If you want anything for it, let me know," Remus says.

"He's got, like, his own personal pain pharmacy," Sirius says. "You should take him up on it. I beg him everytime we fly for some of the strong stuff and he always says no, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Let's not start on the co-codamols," James says.

"I have ibuprofen," Remus placates.

"I don't need anything, I promise."

Some ibuprofen would be awesome but you really don't want James to feel guilty. You want to forget it even happened, embarrassed by both your idiocy and your tears.

Getting hit in the face by a metal door handle hurts. Your reaction had been justified, but crying all over your handsome bodyguards nice hands hadn't been something you'd pictured doing. Not 12 hours after meeting him.

"You want me to do your lips?" Sirius asks.

"How do you mean?"

Sirius pulls a metal palette of lip colours out of his small make up bag and shows them to you. He circles two with a disposable brush. "These would suit you. I wasn't sure about your complexion. Now I know, I'll get you more options when we're back in Genovia."

"Oh, um…" You shake your head at him apologetically. "I don't know. You should do what you think is best."

He puts the palette away. "You don't need anything you're unsure of. You don't need any makeup at all, my love, it only enhances what's already there."

"Ten minutes," James says. "Princess, are you sure this is everything you want to take?"

He taps your suitcase with the side of his shoe. You nod.

"You can bring whatever you want. All of your things, if you like." He gestures to your bedroom. "Though we can get you anything you need, and we will, you're welcome to pack everything."

"In a day, you'll know I'm not your princess. Less stuff to carry," you say.

"You're so sure," Remus says.

He speaks quietly but not timidly, laid back in your chair with an air of relaxation you wish you could master. He has a small mass market paperback tucked into one pocket of his jacket, the yellowed pages peeking over the hem, and his hand stuffed into the other. His pose doesn't speak of any arrogance. He looks happy to be here, and it puts you at ease.

"Do I look like a princess?" you ask. You don't mean to put anyone on the spot —you aren't fishing for compliments— so you steamroll your own question. "I just find it strange. Surely I'd know. I would've known before, I mean."

"Like a princess beacon?" Sirius asks.

"No, but… I don't know. I think I'd feel it."

Remus straightens a touch, grinning. "You look like him. The Prince. You have the same nose."

Remus stands up before you can ask him to explain. James offers to take his bag and he shrugs away from his big hand with an annoyed huff.

To your surprise, James only smiles, cooing after him, "You know you love me, Moons."

"Well," Sirius says, zipping his bag closed and clasping his hands on top of it. "You can always have your things sent for once we're home."

Home for them.

Truthfully, deep down, you want to be a princess. Something in you is singing, is ringing, a string plucked, a tuner reverberating. Finally, something is happening. Your life could be more than mistakes.

You're not used to having people around and this entire process has been hard. Getting hit in the face had sucked. But, to have company? This single hour has been one of the best you've had in a really long time. Sirius is sweeter than you'd thought, sarcastic but kind-handed, and Remus' dry humour has caught you off guard enough to laugh aloud multiple times. Even James' grovelling niceties have been shamefully enjoyable. You can't remember the last time you had someone around who wanted to comfort you.

And that's exactly why you're afraid to admit what seems true. You can't be the Princess, because if you are, you get to have this for a little while longer, and that would be too good to be true.

Much, much too good.

"Alright, let's go. Sirius, you have the keys?"

Sirius swings his bag into James’ arms. “Am I driving?”

“What a stupid question.”

Another member of James’ security team meets you at your front door to help carry the bags downstairs and into the back of the SUV. James won’t allow you to help and getting inside while they’re still packing the boot feels spoiled, so you stand at the corner and feel too many eyes on you. James stands beside you, one hand hovering behind your shoulders to shield you, ridiculously, from the hedge behind, the other held aloft in level with his mouth, fingers curled around a small radio you’ve seen clipped to his shoulder. He’s enunciating clear, short instructions. He doesn’t sound as severe as you’d pictured someone in his occupation would sound.

“What’s traffic like?” he asks. The answer buzzes down the line, inaudible to you but obviously understood by James. “Alright, brilliant. We should be on schedule, then. Is the third team on call?”

You can make the next answer out. “Yep, they’re waiting. You want them at the front?”

“Please. I want everyone we have, ideally.”

“Isn’t that overkill?” Sirius shouts from the passenger seat of the car, bent over the handbrake to be heard. “All three teams? That’s twelve men. None of my sources hint at any leaks.”

“I’m being over cautious.” James smiles at you, so suddenly you smile back on instinct. “Security on call get paid either way. Might as well make them work for it.”

He ushers you into the back seat, a cushy leather bench fit for three people. It’s rented, but Sirius is quick to pop a section behind his chair for you to show you the drinks fridge.

“Oh,” you breathe, legs lit and cooled by the light and the chilled air, “cool.”

“You’ll want to drink one before James assesses that they’re poisoned.”

You wince back. “Are they poisoned?”

“Probably not, my love.”

Sirius is a mixture of flirtatious and genuine that you can’t wrap your head around. He’s awfully handsome, too, which makes it worse: he’s tanned, his curls shine, and he has the most perfect Roman nose you’ve ever seen. He’s almost as handsome as James.

“Let me be very clear,” he says gently, turned in his seat to face you, “I’m not an intelligence agent. I don’t know nearly as much as darling Jamie about security, but I have a lot of friends in high places and, as far as I’m aware, nobody outside of the British or Genovian government knows what we’re doing here. And nobody has reason to hurt you just yet.” He grins. “It’s James’ job to be paranoid, but that’s all it is.”

You waver, and his cheerful smile fades.

He lowers his voice, tone sympathetic. “I can always try one first if you’re worried.”

The driver’s door opens and James climbs in. “Try what?” he asks. He moves through a routine quickly of safety checks like a learning driver would. He rolls up the open window and turns in his seat, gaze flitting between you and Sirius suspiciously. “Everything okay?”

“I think the Princess is a little anxious about leaving the country,” Sirius says.

“Yeah?” James asks, eyes back to the windshield. He turns the key, and the car warms to life with a low roar.

“A little.” You nudge the fridge closed with your foot.

“What was that?” James asks. “Is that a fridge? Do me a favour, don’t drink any of that. I'll get you whatever you want at the airport.”

“She can’t have a bottle of water from the fancy jeep but airport drinks are fine?” Sirius laughs.

“Spike one fridge’s worth or the entire supply chain?” James asks.

“What if this assassin is inefficient?”

“Assassin?” you ask.

James glares at Sirius. "There are no assassins, Princess. He's being ridiculous." He looks to you with a smile. "You have everything?"

Your expression, a sickly grimace, has him giving pause. All fake smiles and dramatics fall away, and in its place is the genuineness you'd been met with last night.

"Hypothetically," he says, "there are assassins. In reality, there absolutely are not. You're not in any danger, alright? Sirius is the master of badly timed jokes."

"Okay," you say meekly.

James nods and you buckle in, sitting back in the comfiest car seat you've ever sat in and turning your face to the window. You look up at your flat building, and as the car starts to move, it shrinks. You drive further and further away, until you turn a corner, and your life is out of view.

—

James is worried about you. As an acquaintance, he's starting to think you're a worrying person. There isn't a whole lot of spark behind your eyes — you rival Remus for number of tired smiles.

He wonders why you hadn't packed any of your art supplies. Your room is teeming with them. Even if you're correct and you aren't the Genovian princess after all, there's still a day or more before they can actually confirm that, and factoring in travel time, you won't be home for at least a week. A week without your sketchbooks and paints and pencils.

As your bodyguard, as a bodyguard, James has always taken concern in his charge's overall health, mental and physical. You don't seem ill, but you do seem unhappy.

"Are you afraid of flying?" he asks, hoping that will explain your distance.

He stands less than half a foot from you. He'll allow you some more space just as soon as you're not in an airport.

"I'm not sure," you say.

Another peculiarity, you're a pathological liar.

Okay, that's unfair. You aren't pathological — James is an excellent judge of character, as his job requires, and he's gotten good at profiling a person's motivations. Your motivation is to become the smallest version of yourself that you can be. Any possible imposition is set aside, such as your refusal of painkillers when your cheek can't not hurt. You refuse to inconvenience others.

"Is there something I can do? To help you feel better?"

You smile awkwardly. "Is that your job?" you ask, voice lilting upward with self-consciousness.

"Kind of. You know, as soon as your paternity test is recognised, you could ask for just about anything. An assistant, as many assistants and attendants as you want. Your security will most certainly increase, especially when the Palace makes a statement."

He notes your widening eyes and backtracks. "It's not really my job, but I wouldn't mind. If you think of anything, let me know."

You hide your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. You're dressed as he advised, comfortably and nondescript.

"Do you need anything from me?" you ask.

He hides his surprise, eyes doing another lap of the semi-private waiting room he's ushered you into. He takes in business men, officials, and diplomats for the tenth time in half an hour.

"I don't need anything from you, Princess. Thank you."

"I don't want to make your job any harder than it is."

"You haven't."

"That's not true," you murmur, bruised cheek toward the floor and away from view.

"That was my fault," James says. "Not yours."

He can feel the heat of your tears running down his index finger.

"That was my mistake," he reaffirms.

You don't answer, but James knows it isn't an agreeable silence. Which is fine, he isn't trying to dominate your opinion, would never assume he had the right to police what you're feeling. He wants to reassure you more than he strictly should.

This might be harder than I thought, he thinks.

"The flight is near enough three hours. You're sure you don't want anything to take with you? If you're worried about dietary restrictions, there's a salad bar in the Mastercard lounge. I'm sure we can get someone to make you something up."

"I'm fine… Will you be hungry?"

He laughs. "You really don't understand the employee employer dynamic, do you?" he asks, not unkindly. "You don't have to worry about me."

He says it sweetly, careful to ensure you understand. He isn't telling you off. He's teasing you.

He knows he's done a good job when you lift your head.

"I don't think you can talk about employee employer dynamics," you say, eyes flitting downward to your cheek's bruise.

He chuckles, eyebrows jumping up. "Oh, nice! That was a quick one. We'll make a Genovian of you yet, they're all sarcastic."

"They? You aren't Genovian?"

"Do I look Genovian?" he asks, gesturing to his face. You splutter. "I'm messing with you. No, I'm not originally from Genovia, but my heart is hers."

"You've always lived there?"

"Since I was two."

Your expression dims. It takes James a second to connect the dots.

"There are plenty of people living in Genovia who aren't native. Remus is Welsh, can you tell? His accent hasn't quite survived it."

"You've met before? You all seem familiar."

"We went to the same boarding school. Well, we actually shared a room. We-" He feels heat crest at his unprofessional phrasing. "We're best mates."

"And you all get to be together," you say softly.

"Yeah, we do. We're lucky. Before this, Remus was working as a royal tutor for the young elites, and Sirius was trying to micromanage Julianna. That's your cousin."

"The Princess' cousin," you correct.

"You brought us back together," he says. "You'll have to forgive me for hoping you are who they say you are."

"Lily never really explained, how I- I mean, why they think it's me."

"Well," he says, stepping closer to you still, and lowering his voice, "my assumption is that, because the Prince's passing was a freak accident, they hadn't really planned for any other successors yet."

"Well, what were they going to do? He'd pass on eventually."

"I believe there were hopes he'd marry a Duchess."

"And have a legitimate child."

"Yes. You are, to the majority, a secret. The Prince would have been seventeen at the time of your conception, which is a royal scandal if I've ever heard one."

"Seventeen?" you ask.

"Lily didn't tell you any of this?"

"Honestly, uh, she might have. I wasn't-" You clear your throat mildly. "Wasn't really listening? I had a pretty bad migraine at the time, and I was tired, you know?"

"You were overwhelmed at finding out you're apprincess."

"That I might be a princess."

"Sure. When they told me I might be Prince of Italy, I had the same reaction."

You wrinkle your nose at him, the most forceful thing you've done in his presence. He laughs a storm, only tamping it down when he remembers he's a professional.

Soon, the boys return from their airport traipsing. Remus makes a quiet comment on James' happy smile, and he pretends to zip his lips closed when they both spot Sirius' curious glances. James moves your entourage to a small aircraft, not private but almost, and you board into first class seats, two per each side of the aisle and partitioned by a sheet of frosted plexi-glass.

You and James sit together.

He doesn't subject you to conversation. He's technically working, and so while he relaxes into his seat and stretches out his tired legs, he doesn't cut vigilance.

You look around in awe for some time. Eyes widened just slightly, lips parted, you sit up and sneak glances at everything you can. James knocks on the partition gently.

"You want the fan? The heater?"

"The fan," you say, and he supposes you do look a bit warm at the collar. "Please."

He doesn't bother saying of course, or no worries, or no problem. He's a problem solver. If you're going to be under his watch, he's going to make it as easy on you as he can. That means letting you be thankful without shrugging it off.

Your eyes close quickly. Your eyelashes flutter imperceptibly in the overhead fans slow breeze, and your lips part as you fall into sleep. Last night's disruption had been hard on you no doubt. He stands quietly and eases sideways down the aisle to check on Remus and Sirius inconspicuously.

"Anything for me to read?" he asks Remus.

Remus knows exactly what James is up to. If he appreciates or abhors the extra attention is anyone's guess, until he digs through the bag at his feet and pulls out one of his Russian philosophy novels with a smirk. "This or the newspaper."

James takes the worn paperback with a wry look of defeat and reaches over and across to Sirius head of curls, tugging one cruelly.

Sirius looks up, but is only irritable when he notices that it had been James, and not his seatmate.

"What?" Sirius demands.

"Do you need anything?"

"No. Quit mothering. And maybe get some rest?"

"I can't."

"You most certainly can. Swap out with Frank, or Mickey or someone."

James swaps out with Mickey. Mickelson, please keep an eye on the entryway. Yes boss. He returns, finding you aren't as asleep as he'd thought. You look at him through lashes. You've gone soft, in little regard for your appearance, and he's glad for it. Watching you is like watching a spring stretched tall, and now you've finally snapped into yourself and deflated.

"You alright?" he murmurs.

You nod, and he sits, and when he doesn't get up you fall asleep again, like you'd been waiting for him to get back. You sleep for hours, through turbulence, Sirius' roaring laughter, Remus' answering chuckles, and the flight attendant who scolds them. James wishes he could do the same, reading a mind-numbing forty pages of Russian literature densely translated and sipping on a glass of coke, the ache of an oncoming pressure headache pinching behind his eyes.

The hubbub doesn't wake you. The plane lands, you sleep on.

James whispers your name, quiet, speaking louder when you fail to rouse. Finally, he gives in and squeezes your shoulder. Heat radiates through the thick fabric of your hoodie. You hair is frizzy where it's rubbed against the seat behind you.

You wake with a raspy cough. "James?"

"We're here, Princess, in Genovia."

"That was," —you yawn, turning to hide your face so he can't see— "fast."

You look like you might fall asleep again. His heart does this awful little flip. He ignores it.

"It was hours. You've slept the whole time– A good thing, huh?" He bends down until you're face to face, an amicable gap between you as he squints at your bruise. He's close enough to share your breath. "Bruise is getting worse. Remus will give you painkillers, and I'm gonna get you an ice pack as soon as we're off the plane."

He squeezes your shoulder again. "Up. Come on."

You nod and rub your eyes, stretching in your seat. He averts his gaze and stands as tall as he can, shoulders hunched to avoid clipping his head. Remus has made no efforts to move yet and Sirius is in the aisle, pulling their bags into his arms.

"Are you alright, Moony?" James asks.

Remus has gone ashen.

"He has a migraine."

"Can you see okay?" James asks.

Remus gets blurry, occluded vision when he gets these sudden migraines. He winces, hand over his eyes, and says, "Not really. Can I have your sunglasses?"

"Yeah," James says, holding in the, of course you can, I'd genuinely die for you, that he wants to add.

He slides his rucksack off of his shoulder and takes his sunglasses from the front pocket. He taps them into Remus' hand.

"You'll have to touch up the Princess' bruise for me," Sirius says.

James coughs. "What?"

"It's easy–"

"I'll take Remus," James says.

"You can both go do your jobs, I'll be fine," Remus mutters, flinching at an invisible, biting pain.

"No," they both deny.

Remus doubles over.

"All you have to do is stipple it," Sirius whispers fervently.

"Sirius, I don't know what stippling is."

"Dots of makeup. She knows what shade we chose. Here, take my bag. There's a clean brush."

Sirius smiles at James. Remus hasn't always let them take care of him. His disabilities have often made him the subject of disdain, pity, and misguided attention he has never, ever wanted, and he'd mistaken their friendship for lots of things at first. Nowadays, he accepts the help that he needs, help that his friend's are happy to give, and disregards their smothering overkill otherwise. That being said, Remus has always found it easier to accept help from Sirius than James. They all know it and none of them bother saying why that is aloud.

Flying nearly but not quite privately means they can get off the plane whenever they're ready (within reason), and so James ushers you back into your seat where you'd been standing tentatively in the aisle and presents the little make up bag. He kneels in front of you.

"I'll get the painkillers," he says, remembering his earlier promise, "Sirius is preoccupied, so. You're stuck with me on touch ups."

"Is it bad?"

"No. Does it feel bad?"

Your slow response is telling. "No," you lie, "it's not that bad." You point at one of the colours through the clear case. "I think it was that one."

"Thank you," he says, murmurs, opening the case. There's a brush tucked inside, and he picks it up clumsily.

"Does he have a mirror?" you ask. "I can do it myself, if you want."

"If he does, he didn't give it to me. I promise not to mess you up too badly, Princess."

James presses the brush into your chosen colour and pats. The concealer is harder than he'd thought it would be, tough under the brush. It all looks silly in his hands.

"Lean your head back for me," he says softly.

You tip your chin up. Your eyes close as he begins.

He's too careful. The colour doesn't want to transfer. "Sorry," he murmurs, applying pressure. You wince but say nothing to stop him. "Tell me if it hurts too much."

"It's only a bruise."

"You're allowed to be hurt. And you should be more angry with me."

"It was an accident."

"It was my mistake." He watches the bruise disappear under concealer, but the colour doesn't quite match your skin. He tries his best to blend out the edges. "A professional mistake, which means you're more than allowed to be annoyed."

"I'm starting to think you want me to be mad," you say. You're trying not to move, and so each word is half a whisper.

"I do. I want you to be furious. It's ten times harder to keep someone safe when they have no self-preservation."

He gives up on the brush and uses his pinky, his cleanest finger, to smudge out the blocky colour he's left behind. Your skin is scorching under his touch.

"So if I'm angry with you, that makes your job easier?"

He hums. "Mh-hmm. Much easier."

You hold your breath as he finishes up, a gentle patting motion as he was instructed.

"How some girls do this every day," he mutters.

"It gets easier."

"Yeah?" He drags his pinky down your cheek without thinking. "Hopefully this is my last time. It looks fine. Maybe don't stop in direct sunlight."

He collects all of his things and pulls the makeup bag into his chest, easing his way out into the aisle again. You follow. Everyone else has left, except for a pearly-smiled flight attendant, who's smile grows impossibly wider as they approach.

"Everything okay today folks?" he asks. "How was your flight?"

James offers thank-yous and guides you down the length of the plane to the exit. You're quiet from the plane to the steps, his hand ghosting your shoulder, to the tarmac, where your security entourage awaits. Including James there are eight bodyguards. Two stick close, five form a mock perimeter around you.

"Unfortunately, you might draw attention from the protection detail alone. It's up to you, Princess, but I can hide your face."

"Is that… dramatic?"

"It's completely up to you. I don't think it's dramatic. Just depends on how comfortable you are with your face potentially being used somewhere."

"Can I– Maybe I'll stay close," you say, pulling your hood up.

"Yeah. Tell me if you're uncomfortable."

He takes you by the elbow and you walk. There aren't any paparazzi waiting outside, and James thinks maybe the news of your arrival has escaped them, and you won't be exposed to the madness that is paps with a story like this one, until he sees Sirius and Remus waiting at the glass doors into the airport.

"Can't we go around?" Sirius asks.

"They have to check our passports, idiot," Remus says, with little malice.

"You can fucking see them, mate," he says to James.

James motions for you to stand where you are and crosses the gap to get a better look. Mickey takes his place by your side.

"Fuck," he hisses, "what the fuck is that? Who fucking leaked?"

"Should I be worried?" he hears you ask quietly.

"Mickelson, give the Princess your sunglasses."

"So yes, then," you say.

James props open the door with his foot. "Princess, you're going first. They'll expect you in the middle. Hopefully that'll minimise what they can get." He holds out his arm.

You slot perfectly underneath it.

"Ready?" he asks.

You don't look very ready. You nibble your lip and nod anyhow, tucking your face into his front. James walks you forward, into a storm of white flashes and shouting, the precipice of your new life.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 please consider reblogging if you did, I'd love to know what you thought and what you want to see in the next one! and a happy new year !!!!

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders

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