#I swear he only ever looks happy near balloons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunnyhugs77 · 2 years

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𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙢 𝙋𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝟮

Previous: Platinum Panther

Pairing: Dilf! Jungkook x Spoiled Reader

Series Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Word Count: 13.2k

Content Warning: jungkook is rich, suggestive themes, reader is kind of bratty, swearing, tattooed jk, brief painter! jungkook, baby mama drama, romantic getaway, reader has a slight attitude problem, toxic parenting, reader was a troublemaker, age gap (3 years), commitment Issues, jungkook doesn’t know how to say no, the angst wrote itself..

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“Ready to go?” Jungkook checks in as he returns, wasting no time to crouch down and pick up the crawling infant. Mira’s party. There’s no way you could go and pretend as if the birthday girl hadn’t called you ‘mama’ hours before.

“Are you okay?” With only a few seconds of you blanking out, Jungkook was already making sure you were alright. Going to the party may not be your ideal situation but for Jungkook, and Mira of course, you would make an effort.

30, 40, 50, 55, 57?

Was that right? There were 57 guests gathered in Lina’s backyard to celebrate Lina’s first birthday. You bet she probably didn’t even know half of them. As much as you would love to continue to observe the function from the sidelines where you leaned against the perfectly painted white fence, Jungkook was calling you over from where he stood near the dessert table.

It was on your way over did you finally analyze the beautifully decorated backyard. What was once a field of grass surrounded by a fence is now a partially paved, elegantly decorated birthday venue. You couldn’t tell if it was Mira’s first birthday party or a dinner for the Queen.

The balloons and tables consist of various shades of pink and white with some accents of gold to be acknowledged throughout the tables as well. “Y/n?” It was amazing really, how you managed to go from oblivious of the décor to being so focused on it that you had completely zoned out.

Centering your eyes on the handsome father of the birthday girl you made sure to listen to what he had to say. “You’ve been quiet since we left, are you sure okay?” His fingers gently tilted your head up to face him while his thumb delicately brushed against your cheek. A combination to make anyone weak in the knees.

He was staring deep into your eyes. Too deep. Could he see your lies? Could he tell that you had been hiding the fact that his daughter had shared her first words with you exclusively, addressing you as her mother? Of course, he didn’t know that.

Right?

“I’m fine, I promise.” You smile into his touch.

You were not fine. Not even two hours into the party and you had already been battling your fight or flight instincts every time Lina even so-happens to look in your general direction. She had been glaring at you ever since you got here.

Upon your arrival she wasted no time to begin complaining to Jungkook about your presence, something along the lines of ‘She wasn’t invited ‘ but of course, Jungkook made sure to make it clear that he also has a say in who the guests are.

“Who’s ready for some cake?!” Lina announces with a bright smile to which the guests had responded passionately. You had whiplash from the entirely different persona Lina had when she was around others. Bright smiles, friendly waves and air kisses. Nothing like the teeth grinding, middle fingers and snarls she’s aimed at you in the past.

You watched quietly from the side as Mira had been passed around the crowd until she was in her father’s arms. Jungkook strut over to the table set in the front for all to see, between Jungkook and Lina, sat Mira’s birthday cake.

Before you knew it, the crowd had already begun to sing happy birthday, the soft glow of light from the candles gently projecting on the nearby items on the table. You couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt watching the three of them celebrate together. How genuine Lina and Jungkook’s smiles seemed while Mira babbled between them.

They looked like such a happy family.

A perfect family.

Somewhere you didn’t fit in.

You knew of the rocky relationship between Jungkook and Lina, you knew their lives weren’t as perfect as they seemed so why was it bothering you so much? Are you really this desperate to find a reason to excuse yourself from their lives?

You really can’t commit to anything, can you?

It was like you were fighting against your own mind. Your brain just didn’t seem to stop creating these intrusive thoughts. You subconsciously took a step back, a little further from the crowd. The longer you watched the trio celebrate upfront, the louder the voice in your head became,

‘Why are you still here? Leave.’

“You must be Y/n.” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you fixed your gaze onto the woman before you. A few centimetres shorter than you, short dark hair with greys highlighted all throughout. With just these details alone you wouldn’t know who she was but you could match her familiar smile anywhere.

It was the same as Jungkook's. She must be his mother.

“Yes, that’s me.” You smile, heartbeat suddenly becoming erratic as you acknowledge the fact that you’re meeting his mother.

“It’s so great to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She smiles once again before pulling you into a hug. You couldn’t help but notice the familiar fragrance that was emitting from her clothes. Obsidienne. The same perfume you had helped Jungkook pick out for her birthday.

Flattered was an understatement for how you felt to know that Jungkook had been talking about you to his mother. “All good things I hope.” You say, remembering that you were Jungkook’s most problematic employee at one point.

“I never got to thank you for the present you had given me.” Present?

“I didn’t get-” You stuttered out your confusion but she was quick to clear it up. “Jungkook had told me that you helped him pick out the perfume.” As if a light bulb had gone off in your head, the comprehension was evident on your face.

“You know, I was really glad to hear that Jungkook had finally put himself back in the dating game-” Dating? You and Jungkook were not dating. Not that you were offended to hear it but, that is definitely not what was going on between you two.

“Oh- we’re not-” Your objections fell on deaf ears as she continued to speak. “I was worried that after the train wreck of a relationship he had with Lina he would never fall in love again,” In love? Jungkook isn’t in love with you. Is he? God, you hope he wasn’t.

You barely knew how you felt about the entire ordeal, hearing that he loved you would only confuse you more. “You know, I can see how happy you make my son, and I’m sure you’ll be a great mother to Mira one day-” Before she could do any more damage than she had already done you politely interrupted.

“-Would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom.” You frantically scurried through the crowd of servers who were beginning to serve the cake and made a beeline for the bathroom. You weren’t exactly in the mood to eat right now.

With a sharp lock of the bathroom door, you slumped against the door, chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Once you managed to steady your breathing you paced over to the mirror, dreading the moment you’d have to look yourself in the mirror.

To anyone else, they’d say you looked flawless. Which you did, but to you, you could see the stress written all over your face. Tensed brows, the slight twitch of your nose every time you thought about the nightmarish conversation you just escaped from.

Dating.

Love.

Motherhood.

The perfect combination to make you queasy, and it shows. Based on the way your face was flushed in distress and the hard efforts your body was making not to pass out. You were quite literally running from your fears.

“C’mon, you’ve been in there for 20 minutes!” You heard the irritation in someone’s voice on the other side of the door. The knocking seemed familiar as you remember that someone had knocked earlier as well.

You couldn’t believe it had been 20 minutes already. Time flies when you’re having a total mental breakdown and maybe a slight identity crisis.

“Have you seen Y/n anywhere?” You heard another muffled voice on the other side of the door.

Jungkook. He was looking for you. The minute he finds you, you just know everything is going to slip out of your mouth. Including the fact that you hid Mira’s first words from him, basically abandoned his mother mid-conversation and the small, little detail that you’ve been contemplating whether or not you should completely vacate your existence from his life without a word.

“Y/n are you in there?” He was knocking on the door. Now you were really panicking. You frantically looked around for any other exits. A window. Thank god the bathroom was on the first floor.

With ease you slid the glass pane upwards, giving you just enough space to fit through. Kicking off your heels and tossing them out first, you followed suit. The landing was not as soft as you’d hoped but at least you weren’t injured.

Looking behind you to make sure no one had seen a thing before you slipped your heels on and scurried for the nearest bus stop.

The hour bus ride was more than enough time for you to reflect on the stunt you just pulled. ‘I just jumped out a window’ Sure, it was only on the first floor but it wasn’t the most rational decision that could have been made. Startled to feel the vibration from your ringing phone, another missed call from Jungkook.

That makes seven; along with multiple concerned texts.

You decided it was best to just shut off your phone entirely. The more Jungkook tried to contact you, the worse you felt for completely leaving him in the dark. He has no idea what’s going on with you, but in your defence, neither do you. With a rough jerk of the bus, it rolled to its final destination. You had completely skipped town.

You had only ever run away once before, and this is where you ended up. History repeats itself, you guess. With heavy footsteps, you walked to the only destination you knew in this city, the only person you knew.

You walked up to the doors of the convenience store, one deep breath before you pulled them open. Instantly greeted by the concern of the blue-headed male working the front desk. “Uh oh. You’re back.” Taehyung wastes no time to round the counter and engulf you in a tight, bone-crushing hug.

“Air- I can’t breathe.” You gasp dramatically as he lets go with a laugh.

A brief moment of silence fills the empty store until he props himself to sit on the counter, “So what are you running from this time? Is it your dad again?”

You’ve come here a handful of times between the ages of 18 and 21, driving in the late hours of the night to meet up after bad fights with your father, but you always somehow ended up being home before sunrise, but now with no expectations from your father, something tells you this visit would be a little longer than a few hours.

“Surprisingly, no.” He seemed shocked by your denial.

“It’s about Jungkook.” His head tilted in confusion, completely unaware of who you were talking about. His response alone was more than enough for you to realize there was a lot of material to go through if Tae was going to understand why you were here. With a heavy sigh, you hopped up onto the counter with him and began to share.

Two slushies and a shared pack of gummy worms later brings you to now, where you and Taehyung sat in his car. The sun had set long ago while you were too busy talking the night away.

“You jumped out the window, at his daughter’s first birthday party?” Tae gasps as he listens to your almost unbelievable story. “I know. It’s terrible.” Your groan, leaning your head back into the headrest, “Jungkook really is a good guy. I just didn’t know what else to do. I panicked”

Tae snickers, “Understatement.”

“Tell me what I should do.” You ordered, ready for Taehyung to share his wisdom, but you were answered with silence. Your head slowly turned to face him, welcoming the sight of him staring at you.

“What?”

“You know you can’t just solve this in one day, right?” Taehyung sighs as he leans back in his seat, facing the empty parking lot behind the now-closed convenience store.

“I-” Ready to object, you had a quick self-reflection. You completely fled the scene because of the constant jumble of emotions you put yourself through.

“Yeah, I know.” Now it was your turn to sigh.

Meanwhile

“The number you are calling is currently unavailable~”

With frustration Jungkook throws his phone onto the chaotically arranged blankets on his bed, the clear indication of the rough nights and little-to-no sleep he’s been getting.

It’s been 3 days.

Three days since you completely disappeared without a word. He’s driven himself crazy looking all over town for any signs of you. He even considered checking your father’s house, but he knew you wouldn’t be there. Right? You hated it there. Not even in a time like this would you want to go back.

But he could never be too sure. That’s how he finds himself at your father’s front door. With laboured breaths, he rings the bell, disappointed to see your father open the door. “Jungkook? What brings you here?”

“I was looking for Y/n, you haven’t seen her here by any chance have you?” He already regrets coming here when he sees the irritation evident on your father’s face.

“Y/n? No, why. I assumed she would be staying with you.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Since you’re here looking for her, I can only imagine that she’s run off with her impulsivity. She’s probably gotten herself in a ditch somewhere-”

To say that Jungkook was disgusted was an immense understatement. He heard the stories about your father, he believed everything you had to say about him, but to experience his awful character in person was an entirely different feeling.

It was taking everything in him not to throw his fist across your father’s face.

How could someone ever say such a thing about their own child? Just the thought of you being in danger somewhere had Jungkook’s heart sinking to his stomach.

“Keep your eyes out for a dissolution agreement from me.” Jungkook seethes as he begins to walk away. “Excuse me?” With a deep Jungkook pivots to face your enraged father.

“I’m terminating the partnership. I’m expecting that you’ll agree to my terms unless you’d like to have the information of you abandoning your own daughter all over the headlines?” Jungkook’s warning was received with silence which he took as an agreement.

---

“You know you can’t hide out here forever, sooner or later you’re going to have to face him,” Taehyung says casually as he rearranges the chips on their appropriate racks.

“Why not?” You groan as you let your head rest back against the freezer doors. “Don’t you think he deserves an explanation?”

Shit. He was right. He always is.

Jungkook deserved an explanation, an apology, he didn’t deserve you. He deserved someone better. Someone that wasn’t a liability. “You’re right.” Even though the two of you had been talking about this for the last three days, he never thought you would actually realize he was in fact correct.

“Jungkook deserves the truth.” You say, straightening your posture as you walk towards the door. “Do you want me to take you?-” You didn’t let him finish offering before you held up your hand to politely decline.

“You’ve done more than enough, really. I don’t know how I could ever make it up to you.” At your words, a small grin plasters across Tae’s face. He had no idea who exactly this Jungkook dude was but he must be a miracle worker. A few years ago you never would’ve been caught using such polite mannerisms.

Not to mention you were insisting on taking the bus.

Just as you pushed the door open Taehyung thought of a way to pick you up on your offer. “Actually-” He starts, watching as you stopped in your tracks to face him. “You can make it up to me..” Your brow arching evidently at his vague words.

“My best friend is getting married in a few months, and as his best man it’s my duty to throw him the best bachelor party possible, so where else could possibly be better than Platinum Panther. Would you mind squeezing us in for an event?”

You were a bit relieved to hear his request, knowing Tae you were worried he would’ve asked for something unrealistic and unreasonable like organizing his closet.

---

Were your hands shaking or was the lock just not staying still? Either way, if Jungkook couldn’t hear your keys jingling violently from the other side of the door, he must be able to hear your heavy breathing.

With a soft click, you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on Jungkook’s face when your eyes locked with his.

Pure shock. Then Relief.

Suddenly his face became emotionless as you spoke your first words to him in three days. “Hi..” You could barely look him in the eyes while he couldn’t stop staring at you.

“Wha- You-” Jungkook immediately stepped towards you, he didn’t know what to say. His brain was overheating at the vast amount of questions he could ask you but one was far more important than the rest, “Are you okay?”

It’s the moments like this when you have to ask yourself if Jungkook was a real human being. The fact the first thing he asks you is if you’re okay and doesn’t completely blow up in your face as one usually would.

It was now or never. You had to tell Jungkook. Everything.

“I-” Just as you were about to speak, you realized what you were about to say wouldn’t suffice. You were planning on telling him about the events that took place on Mira’s birthday that pushed you to run away, but even you knew you couldn’t do that.

How could you blame his mother for simply conversing with you, what if she was genuinely just trying to be nice? You’re sure she didn’t mean to scare you off, besides, how could she have known that you were a major flight risk.

All your life you’ve been blaming others for your shortcomings simply because you never wanted to confront the fact that you have issues of your own just like everyone else, but today you weren’t going to pin it on someone else. You wanted to own up to it.

Jungkook deserved an explanation, not an excuse.

With a deep breath, you began to speak, “I’m sorry if I worried you. I’ve never been good with feelings which is why I ran off so suddenly.” You walked towards the living room and took a seat as Jungkook followed suit.

“Before we left for Mira’s party, while you had gone to the car and you left me with Mira, she said her first word...” You gulp hard when Jungkook’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head, “She called me mama, and I freaked out.”

“Not that it’s a bad thing, I was just scared about what that meant. I didn’t know if I could do this whole thing long-term, I’ve never done it before--” Jungkook’s brows furrowed before he finally spoke up, “You didn’t know if you could do what?”

“This. Us. I really like you Jungkook, but it's not fair to you if I just run with my emotions anytime I feel like it. You deserve someone who can-” You didn’t notice the tears that welled in your eyes, not used to being so open to someone about your feelings.

“No, no. Don’t say that. Don’t tell me what I do and don’t deserve, okay?” With swiftness, Jungkook had seated himself closer to you, placing his hand over yours; the noticeable difference in size sinking in for the first time.

“I’m not perfect Y/n, I make mistakes too. We all do. I don’t blame you for following your emotions. You needed time to clear your head and I get that..” His sentence went unfinished. You could feel the ‘but’ coming.

“But-” There it was.

“Those days that you were gone, when I was so stuck inside my head, I kept asking myself ‘what if she never comes back? What if she’s gone for good?” He shares the insight of his thoughts. “It broke me, Y/n.”

Those words alone were enough to have your stomach twisting in guilt. As if you weren’t feeling bad enough, you noticed that your eyes weren’t the only ones that had been holding back tears.

“I kept seeing you in my head, every minute throughout the day. It was torturous when I had to consider the fact those could’ve been the only things I had left of you. I won’t force you to make a decision now, but I just can’t handle knowing what it’s like to have you in my life and for you to leave again. I can’t take it.”

There was so much to take in. You hadn't realized that those tears you so desperately tried to contain had already rolled down your cheeks.

You knew this was going to happen. Could you blame him? Of course, you were going to have to make up your mind eventually. You couldn’t have one foot in and one foot out and you knew that.

You’ve made mistakes in life. A lot. You gave up too easy, on everything. Never put up with anything once it got hard, just as your father always said, but he was wrong. Ballet and Soccer were mere trends to you, nothing of importance so why bother with either of them if you didn’t care.

What your father never acknowledged was your passion. Proven hundreds of times throughout the course of your life, the way you both constantly fought over your freedom because it was important to you.

You knew some things were worth fighting for, and Jungkook wasn’t an exception. It would undoubtedly be your biggest mistake and your biggest regret if you never tried to make things work; and just like that, you had your answer.

“I want to try.”

Jungkook could have never anticipated the amount of relief he felt at your words. Of course, he would respect whatever decision you made but he just likes hearing this one so much more. He couldn’t help but smile to which you returned.

He noticed your slightly puzzled face. Unsure of what to call this relationship anymore. You lived together, you also worked together and have slept together...

“We don’t have to label anything right now, we’ll take it one step at a time.” He reassures you, always making sure you're comfortable. Yeah, you’re confident in your decision.

----

The moon sat high in the night sky above the city that had long fallen asleep hours ago, but not you, no. Your brain had pulled you awake when you realized something.

You missed Jungkook’s Birthday.

You remember that he had mentioned finding out that Lina had given birth the night before his birthday, and it only just clicked that it had passed three days ago, but you were too busy being MIA to have realized.

Now the question was what to get him?

Was it too soon to get him a present? No? Friends get friends each other gifts all the time, just because you don’t exactly have a label for your relationship doesn’t mean you’re not friends.

Jungkook’s rich. What wouldn’t he have already that he couldn’t get himself? You sat up, looking around the dark guest room in hopes that the answer would somehow reveal itself to you.

You know what? You should sleep on it.

Today was your first day back at work after who knows how long. Safe to say nothing has changed. You’re a little relieved to be back, happy to know there’s still some consistency in life.

Your break had started like any other; with you leaving 5 the coat-check 5 minutes earlier than you’re supposed to and sitting on the couch in Jungkook’s office while he tends to the larger than usual amount of paperwork on his desk, but still manages to multitask a friendly conversation with you.

This was as good a chance as any to dig for ideas on what to get him for his birthday. “So what are your hobbies?” You were never the best at verbal transitions, this was proof of that, but Jungkook didn’t seem to mind as he simple laughed, taking a moment to look up at you with a confused smile. “What?”

“Y’know? Your hobbies? Outside of owning a club and being a dad, what do you like to do?” He immediately looked back down again and continued writing, “ M'Not sure.” He mumbles. Maybe you were reading too far into things but did Jungkook just shut down on you?

“There must be something, you’re interested in?” You moved to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk. In a fleeing manner, he began to restack his papers and begin filing them away from you. “I don’t have any hobbies.” His voice had gone cold as he faced away from you, shelving the portfolios.

You were left speechless. You had never seen him act like this. Maybe he was just stressed about something- Before you could even get another second to ponder his unusual mood there was a great disturbance barging into his office, unannounced, yet again.

“Lina, what are you doing here?” Jungkook was not pleased to see his ex prancing into his workspace at this time of day. The woman in question parked the stroller right in front of his desk so that Mira was facing the wooden base.

“What? Is there something wrong with the real mother of your child being here?”

Oh.

With her precise choice of words, you quickly understood what this was about.” Jungkook rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the surge of stress that coursed through his body at the sound of Lina’s voice.

“What are you going on about this time?” He sighs as he sits back down behind his desk, not before making a pleasant face towards his daughter who so, unfortunately, had to be caught in the middle of such an unpleasant conversation.

“I just got your text, Jungkook. Regarding Mira’s first words.” Lina seethes, even though he had sent it last night. “Yeah.” He says, not entirely sure what he should say.

“How could you be so calm when you’re living with a fraud! Your daughter doesn’t know who her own mother is! Instead, she’s calling this whore her mother.” Her yells seemed to have amplified in your ears, ringing violently in your head.

“That’s enough of you.” Immediately Jungkook had stood back up, his hands coming down with a smack onto the surface. “How many times have I told you to stop calling Y/n names, you’re acting like a fu-” Jungkook noticeably remembers that Mira is in the room and tries to filter his words. “You’re acting like a child. You need to stop coming to my office just to drop her off whenever it benefits you. Maybe then she would call you her mother if you actually spent time with her.”

Lina wasn’t the only one left speechless by Jungkook today. You were forced to stay silent and just watch the interaction go down. “Okay but, Maria just told me there’s a blowout sale downtown, 80% of everything, so I just need you to watch Mira-”

You were almost frightened to see the dark look Jungkook had given her. “No.”

As if she wasn’t expecting him to object, she had been halfway out the door when the words reached her ears. “What?” She looked over her shoulder before completely turning around to face him in complete disbelief.

“What? Surprised that I’m not letting you walk out on her again? So you better figure out a way to shop online.” Each of his words caught her more off guard than the last. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. For the last year, Jungkook had let her walk all over him. He would drop his responsibilities for her with a smile on his face.

What you saw was anything but a smile on his face as he watched Lina slowly pull the stroller out of the room. You could see the weight of the situation sitting on his shoulders, he looked like he was about to collapse. “Are you oka-” You couldn’t even get the words out before he cut you off.

“You should go back out there.” He seats himself back down with an audible sigh. “What? But my break isn’t over-” Jungkook checks his watch briefly as he started working on the next stack of papers. “Maybe you should spend it in the staff room then.” This was not the Jungkook you were used to. Something was wrong.

“But I always spend my breaks in here...” Your voice got quieter towards the end of your sentence as the confusion sunk in. You had no idea what was wrong. He was fine just yesterday. “I have a lot of paperwork to get through today, Y/n.”

You knew if you stayed in any longer you would both just get irritated, so it was best you left now. Maybe he was mad because you forgot his birthday?

---

For the rest of the day, your mind wondered what could have possibly happened in the last 24 hours to now to have flipped a switch in him.

Was it you? Was he regretting this whole thing? Did he want you to leave? You must’ve been suffocating him. Living with him, and seeing him at work. No wonder he was so annoyed.

You should give him some space.

---

And you did.

A lot of space.

Two weeks' worth of space.

You wouldn’t have thought that you were capable of such a thing. Jungkook was basically the only person you talked to frequently, without him you just texted old friends whom you never really paid attention to before now, and babbled with Mira if that counts.

Of course, Jungkook still talked to you, just not as much as he talked on the phone. Every day for the last two weeks, he’s been working non-stop. If he wasn’t on the phone, he was signing papers. You wondered how he could even sleep at night without hearing the phantom sounds of the phone ringing because it was sure as hell was driving you insane.

It was moments like these that you’ve grown to favour the most over the last two weeks. The moments he’d spend taking care of Mira. Feeding her, Playing with her, watching the both of them lay on their backs on the floor and converse deeply about world philosophies and the colours of the rainbow. These were the only times you could recognize the old Jungkook. Not the one who doesn’t bat an eye at the fact you haven’t even bothered to have lunch with him anymore.

You’ve actually been... working during your shifts. You never thought the day would come. Worst of all. You still haven’t found what to get him for his birthday. At this point, it was looking a little better to just wait until Christmas.

There was nothing good to get him. You’ve thought of every possible expensive option and none of them seemed good enough. You just wanted it to have some positive effect on him. God knows he could use some positivity right now.

Yet another day behind the coat-check desk. Watching as everyone passed you by. Until a particularly large group of construction workers did, in fact, pass you by. But not empty-handed, oh no. They walked right past you with a 4 by 8 feet sign with the club's name on it, and they were headed straight for Jungkook’s office.

Barely 10 minutes had passed before they were walking back outside with it.

You’re nosey. Always have been, always will be. Your feet had a mind of their own when they led you to Jungkook’s office questioning him about the group of men you had just seen.

“What are you talking about?” He looks up from the stack of papers on his desk. It was like the pile was growing every day. “The guys who just walked in here with a sign that said, Platinum Panther? Really? Doesn’t ring a bell?” He blinked at you confused. He seemed so out of it today. The bags under his squinting eyes said enough.

“Oh- You mean the construction crew? Yeah, what about them?”

“What were they doing with your sign?” You watched as he leaned back in his chair and dropped his pen down to the desk. “It’s for the new club. I’m opening up another Platinum Panther across town. They were coming by to get my approval for the sign.” Once again, you were at a loss for words. This was a big deal, “You never told me this?” Your hands subconsciously placed themselves on your hips.

“Didn’t I? I feel like I’ve mentioned it before.” He shrugs, running a hand through his already slightly dishevelled hair before going back to signing his papers. You simply left after that, clearly, you weren’t going to get any more conversation from him right now.

Bold. You were bold to still be looking for a birthday present nearly three weeks after it's passed, but you know what? You were determined to find something for him. That’s how you found yourself in the middle of yet another high-end store. That makes 7 since you’ve gotten to the mall.

You’ve looked at everything from hats to watches to silverware and shoes. Most people would’ve given up by now. But you refused to leave until you found something-- instead, you found someone.

“Mrs. Jeon?” You say hesitantly as you try to identify the woman in your aisle of the furniture store. “Y/n!” She had wasted no time moving towards you, greeting you with a warm hug and smile. “My goodness, where did you run off to at Mira’s party, I had been looking for you.”

Boy, isn't that quite the story to tell, but maybe another day?

“Ah- I wasn’t feeling so well. Sorry about leaving so suddenly.” Technically your words weren’t untrue. You in fact did not feel well, mentally, which is just as important as your physical health.

“What brings you here? Are you moving out?” She questions your presence in this particular furniture store. “Actually, I’ve been looking for something to get Jungkook since I had missed his birthday, but I’m not sure what to get...Do you know anything he’s interested in? Like his hobbies?”

It was almost like your words pulled out a fond memory from her brain. “You know, he’s very good at art. Ever since he was young, all he would ask for was a paintbrush, not even a canvas, he would find something to paint on regardless.” The way she spoke softly and with warmth about Jungkook’s childhood almost made you wish that you could see some of his past works.

“Do you know if he still paints?” You were desperate to know, refusing to leave empty-handed. “Now that you mention it, I’m not sure-” His mother quickly turned around at the sound of her name being called by one of her fellow friends who must’ve accompanied her.

“Oh- well I’ve got to run. It was a pleasure seeing you again.” She smiles once more before she walks out of sight and past the large wall full of paintings. Each one was more beautiful than the last. Some consist of cherry blossoms, the others resembling that of a beach getaway. Oh, what you wouldn’t do to go on vacation just for a second.

And just like that, you knew what to get Jungkook.

It was all going according to plan, Lina had Mira for the weekend, You had somehow managed to bribe the contractors to leave Jungkook alone just for the next two days. “Y/n? Why are all the lights off?” That was the first thing Jungkook asked once he came inside, with ease he turned on the lights as he dropped his keys down on the surface near the front door.

He nearly leaped out of his skin at the sight of you standing in front of him with a cupcake in hand. “What’s all this?” He gestures to the two suitcases behind you. “It’s a long-overdue birthday present. I felt bad that I missed it.” With ease, you pulled out the lighter from your pocket and lit the candle despite the length of your acrylics. Just like you had practiced hours before.

“Make a wish.” You held up the cupcake towards him, the soft glow accenting the smile that came across his face. You had barely even started and you were starting to see him relax a little more. “You know you don’t have to do this-”

“Just shut up and blow out the candle.” You insist, watching him close his eyes briefly to make a wish and blow it out. You let him hold on to the dessert before he soon ate it as you attempted to drag the suitcases out the door.

“Aren’t you going to help me?” You question the man who simply watched you struggle to move the luggage. “Not unless you tell me where we’re going.” With silence, you continued to move them on your own.

Before Jungkook could get his hands on the keys, you had snatched them up from the table. “I’m driving.” You grin as you grip the keys in your hands. “Not in my car you’re not.” He objects, reaching for the keys out of your hand but you quickly dodged him. “Why not? I’m a good driver. I would take my own car but my dad still has it since legally it’s his.” Your eyes roll at the thought of your precious car just sitting there, unused.

“Because I don’t know how you drive.” Jungkook reasons, “Are you implying that I’m a bad driver?” Your hand lands on your hip while you grip the keys in the other. In the mood for messing with him. “No- I’m not-” He quickly tried to take back his words but you were having too much fun, “Tell me, Jungkook. Do you think I’m a bad driver because I’m a woman? You think you’re just a better driver than me because you have a dick between your legs?” You swung the keys around on your finger.

This conversation reminds you of the same one you had in his car when you agreed to help him find presents for his mother months ago. Jungkook was at such a loss of words he could cry, “I’m just kidding, but seriously. I’m driving.” You state before leaving him inside and making your way for the car.

---

You drove far out of town just to get here, so you’re really hoping Jungkook has a good time. He must’ve been tired from working so hard for the last- who knows how long. He had even fallen asleep in the car. Always a good sign to a driver.

“I’ll admit. You’re a pretty good driver.” He admitted with a nonchalant attitude. “I know. You were sleeping like a baby” You grin as he helped you take out the luggage from the trunk. “Debatable.” He mumbles as he followed you inside, watching you sign in with the front desk lady with pure adoration in his eyes.

Sometimes he wonders how he got so lucky. You really were something special. Who else does he know that would’ve gotten him a birthday present weeks after it passed? The fact that you had remembered was more than enough for him.

“I hope the room looks good-” You mumble under your breath, you unlock the door and push it open. It was breathtaking. “Holy shit.” Jungkook curses as you walk in. It was fucking massive. You knew that you asked for the biggest room they had but you had no idea just how big it was.

“Is that a Jacuzzi?” Jungkook questions in pure awe. He’d seen many of those in his lifetime, but never in a hotel room. He made sure to lock the door behind him as the two of you made your way around the area. The bed was huge, the TV was huge, and the view--

God, you could talk about the view until the day you die. The balcony overlooked the vast area of trees which were scattered with lights between them which almost resembled fireflies from up here. It wasn’t your everyday sight which is why it was so much more special, besides you knew Jungkook had a thing for the outdoors, and you did not. At least this way there's a healthy medium.

“It’s amazing.” Jungkook sounded breathless as he spoke. “It really is..” You agreed before you both began to settle your things down. “You seriously didn’t have to do all this.” Jungkook insists as his hands place themselves on your waist, his eyes looking down into yours with nothing but affection.

“I know, but I wanted to.” You smile as he leaned down to drop a peck to your lips, “-And what Y/n wants, Y/n gets.” He grins before kissing you once more, this time a little more passionately than the last before you both inevitably pull away.

“Do you mind if I shower first?” Jungkook checks in as he gestures to the bathroom. You agreed as you watched him take his stuff inside. You could already see a significant difference in his mood. Maybe getting him out of his work environment really was the best decision.

Soon Jungkook had returned and it was your turn to partake in your nightly routine.

The both of you lay under the covers, snuggled in each other's warmth. You assumed Jungkook was sleeping but to your surprise, he was not. “What are you thinking about?” He asks. “How do you know I’m thinking about something?” You pull your head off his chest slightly to see him better.

“Because I can hear you grinding your teeth.” He chuckles, sitting up with you.

“So what is it?” You look at him as he asks you to share what’s on your mind. You’re afraid to say it based on how he reacted to it the other day but there’s no harm in trying right?

“The other day, when I asked you about your hobbies.. you sort of.. shutdown? I don’t know if the question was too personal or maybe you were just stressed with work at the time but-”

“I was.” He groans as he rubs his face in his hands, exhausted just thinking about that day.

“Ever since I got the ‘go-ahead’ for the expansion a few weeks ago I’ve just been working non-stop.” It sounded like an excuse at first until he looked back up at you.

“But that doesn’t justify how I spoke to you, and I really am sorry.” There’s no way you could possibly stay unaffected by his sincerity. You gently placed your hands on the side of his face, “All is forgiven,” You say, punctuating your sentence with a loving kiss to his plush lips.

“You know, I do miss eating with you at lunch,” Jungkook states suggestively but you were gonna make him work for it. “Yeah? So?” Your brow arches as you leaned back against the headboard.

“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?” You grin. “Of course I am.”

“Will you eat lunch with me again?” He leans forwards so that his face was mere inches from yours. “Why should I? You know, I’m a very busy woman. My time is valuable.” Your arms crossed involuntarily, you were just having fun with him at this point.

“Because I sign your paychecks-” Your jaw dropped, a squeak leaving your mouth at his bold statement to which he immediately laughs, “I’m just kidding. But I'm serious when I say I miss talking to you, I enjoy your company. You made everything seem so much easier.” He pleads, holding your hands in his.

With an exaggerated sigh and an expression to show you were considering his offer, “I suppose I could squeeze you in my schedule.” You giggle as he rolled his eyes at your passive response. “You’re too kind.” The sarcasm rolled off his tongue so naturally.

“I ran into your mom the other day,” You start but he immediately winces at the sentence, “A good interaction I hope?” You nod. “I learned that you are quite the Picasso-” As if it was a reflex, Jungkook pulled himself away from you, now sitting further away from you than before.

“No- I don’t paint anymore.” There was that cold tone again.

“Yeah, I know- But why?” You could sense his irritation rise with your question.

“I just don’t.”

“There must be a reason-” You’re not sure which nerve you hit but it seemed to have been enough to get Jungkook to snap. With wide eyes you watched him get up from the bed- “Because I had a kid, okay?” His voice was riddled with guilt.

“What..?” You knew you should’ve just left the conversation at that but how could you?

With a heavy breath, he dropped himself back down on the bed, laying on his back as he faced the ceiling. “So, to answer your question, yes, I had hobbies. Dozens at one point." You stayed quiet, letting him get it off his chest.

“I liked trying new things. I had hobbies, and painting was my favourite, but I gave them all up after Mira was born. Anytime Lina would drop her off unexpectedly I was forced to put my hobbies aside, then the club got popular and before I knew it I just stopped completely. It’s terrible, I know. What kind of a person blames such a thing on their kid.”

You took the silence between you to speak, “Mira’s not the one inconveniencing you. Parenting shouldn’t be about secretly missing your old life, you should be able to share such beautiful interests with your child, but how are you supposed to do that when Lina never gives you the chance to prepare?”

You didn’t want to overstep in their relationship, but from what you’ve seen, Lina constantly bombards Jungkook with her responsibilities, and clearly, it’s affected him. “I know. We said we would work out a schedule, we didn’t want it to get messy but I think I need a lawyer.” Woah.

“You’re not gonna try and put her in jail or anything right?” Jungkook laughs at your taken-back expression, “No, Y/n. I think it’s time we just get some agreements on paper.” Another period of silence came between you.

“And what about you?” You check-in.

“What about me?” He shrugs, before sitting upright.

“You’re always making sure everyone else is taken care of and accounted for. So, now I’m asking you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You know what, I think I am. Especially now that those contractors have left me alone. I might even try picking up one of my old hobbies.” Your smile stretches from ear to ear as you leapt for your suitcase. “I was hoping you’d say that.” You pulled out a gift bag that you somehow managed to fit into your stuffed suitcase.

“Another present?”

“Just open it.” You rush him as he removes the tissue paper from the top to reveal what was at the bottom. Unable to control his smile as he pulled out the 8 x10 canvas and palette, along with the few paintbrushes. “You don’t give up do you?”

“Never.”

---

This is how you wish you could wake up every morning, Nothing else in sight but Jungkook and his bare torso sleeping soundly as you stared out the window overlooking the rising sun over the trees.

You decided to get a head start on the day, being the first one to get in the shower. It was unusual for you to be up before Jungkook but you could only imagine how tired he was.

By the time you had finished everything you needed to the man was still sleeping. You were hoping that the two of you could go downstairs and make it in time for their breakfast buffet but that window was quickly closing as the time approached 10 am and the sun rose higher with each passing minute.

You decided you’d go for a little walk around the resort and come back a little later. You weren’t too surprised to see that by now Jungkook was fully awake, seeming that he had already showered and everything.

His head snapped up the second he heard the door click open, “Hey, you didn’t take your phone with you. I was trying to call you.” You kicked your heels off at the door and made your way over to Jungkook who sat on the bed, clad in the casual clothes you’d picked out for him.

As much as you loved seeing him in those expensive suits, there was something so relaxing and perfect about the way he looked when he was in his everyday attire. Nothing fancier than a dress shirt and jeans.

“I know, I realized that.” You murmur as you leant against the window in front of him, blocking some of the sunlight that beamed in his direction. “Where did you go?” He outstretches his hand for you to hold, not knowing he’d pull you down to the bed with him.

“I just went for a walk.” You spoke softly as the two of you lay on the bed with little room left between. “I thought you said you wanted to have breakfast before you roamed?” Jungkook questions your unplanned actions.

“I did, but you weren’t awake, so I went for the walk instead.” Instantly the brunette sat up, checking his watch. “Oh my god, it’s almost 11:30. You missed breakfast because I slept in?” He felt guilty, and you could tell.

“I wasn’t that hungry-” He knows you, he knows you never skipped breakfast. Lunch? Maybe, but never breakfast. That’s how you found yourselves dining in the closed restaurant. Did Jungkook pay extra to let you both in even though they weren’t reopening until Dinner time? Yes, because to him, you were worth it.

---

You hated how fast the weekend had flown past you, but it was safe to say it was successful. You had never seen Jungkook so relaxed, so carefree. He was smiling more. You weren’t sure if it was because he was away from work or Lina, maybe both but you were glad he got a chance to relax.

“Did you turn it on?” Your voice rings throughout the hotel room from the bathroom as Jungkook worked on turning on the Jacuzzi. Did you mention the jacuzzi was also huge? Not to mention it only looked bigger when two people were inside compared to the 8 people that could fit.

“If I wanted to sit in here alone, I would’ve gone home and taken a bath.” You roll your eyes at Jungkook’s sarcastic comments. “I’m almost done!” You notify him as you adjusted the bathing suit around your hips. This is the first and last time you wear such an elaborate swimsuit. It had so many holes, you didn’t know if it was for your arms or your legs, but you managed to figure it out.

His eyes were drawn to you the minute you stepped out of the bathroom. You were the only thing he could think of. Could you blame him? He’s never felt the way he feels about you with anyone else. His infatuation and adoration for you are immeasurable. Every time you walk into the room he’s left breathless, wanting nothing but to have his hands all over you.

“I look that good huh?” The corner of your lips pulled upwards as you gently lifted his jaw. Taking a dip in the warm water sitting beside him, surrounded by the bubbling jets. “You look incredible.” He hums, barely letting your ass touch the seat before his hands found place on your hips, pulling you over to straddle his lap.

“Good, because this was impossible to put on.” Your smiles looked too happy, too pleasant to be real, but they were. “It looks so good on you, but I bet it’d look even better off.” His voice had dropped an octave with his obscene words before you felt him pepper kisses at your neck.

“Ah- ah- ah. It took forever to put this one, I’m not going to have you rip it to pieces in 5 minutes.” You object, placing your hands on his chest to push away from him but his hands on your hips tightened, not wanting you to get off his lap just yet, appreciating the closeness.

“I know you’ve always loved going all out, but you really outdid yourself this weekend, you didn’t have-” Jungkook sounded like a broken record. “-But I didn’t have to, I know. Jungkook, but I wanted to. Just let your girlfriend spoil you for a change.” Your arms draped themselves around his neck, but you thought you had hurt him from his wide eyes.

“What? What’s wrong-” Now you were the one caught off-guard as you felt Jungkook gently grab your face to pull you into a heated kiss that you welcomed with openly. “So you’re my girlfriend now?” Jungkook throws your words back at you with a smirk to which you immediately felt your cheeks flush.

You hadn’t even realized what you had said until he pointed it out. “If you want me to be.” You say, not sure where to look right now. What if he said no-

“Of course I do.”

Oh.

And just like that. The hard work you had put into getting in the bathing had gone to waste. It never stood a chance against Jungkook’s hands to begin with.

---

With your bare bodies tangled beneath the covers, every part of your body aching from the works you had just been put through, but it was perfect. Everything you did with Jungkook was perfect. While in his head he was thinking the same thing. You were perfect. You're everything he ever wanted and never knew he needed in a person.

You both stared at each other in comfortable silence, “So how does it feel being 27?” You gently brush the hair out of his eyes. Simply admiring everything your thumb strokes across. Starting with his cheeks

“It feels the same as being 26, I just know that I’m a year older.” He laughs softly as your thumb trails down to his lips, gently pulling at the plump flesh of his lower lip. “What’s something you want to see more of this year?” Your question was genuine, curious as to what he'd like to do this year, but he's a guy.

“You naked.” Your hand immediately dropped from his lips in pure shock before they placed themselves over your own. Does this man never tire? You had just gone three rounds around the hotel room, the jacuzzi, then the shower and he couldn’t resist the third round since ‘third time’s a charm’.

And it was.

-----

As much as you were enjoying the weekend, all good things must come to an end. And you could only dread going to work for so long. At least you could look forward to your break.

As per usual you tapped out from your shift 5 minutes earlier than you were supposed to so you could get to Jungkook’s office earlier. He looked more concentrated than usual so you hesitated before entering but Jungkook had signalled for you to come inside anyway.

“What’d you get this time?” You inquired about Jungkook’s lunch selection for the both of you. “Your favourite” You didn’t like the way he said the words, you peeked into the brown bag on the corner of his desk. You felt your mouth salivate at the sight of those famous wrappers. It was from the same burger place Jungkook had taken you all those months ago.

Of course, you still couldn’t admit to him that this was your favourite. “I mean, they’re okay. Nothing special.” You shrugged, carelessly dropping your hand into the bag to reach for one of the items but Jungkook was faster to snatch the bag towards him.

“Since they’re just okay, I suppose I could just give it away to someone who would appreciate the perfection of these burgers.” This was a sick sick game he was playing. He was gonna make you say it. “No- no. I- I like them.” Satisfied since he knew that was the most he’d get out of you, he handed you back the bag with a smug face.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You mumble under your breath as you unravel the meal. “Sorry, what was that?” Jungkook leans forward for you to repeat what you said even though he heard you loud and clear. “Nothing. Just go back to work.” You dismiss before seating yourself in front of his desk.

It was only now that you took a moment to acknowledge the replica on his desk that seemed to have been encapsulating so much of Jungkook’s attention before you walked in.

“What’s that?” You jutted your chin to the structure that sat on his desk. “It’s a 3D version of the new club,” He spun it around so that you could see the other side, and it was so elaborately detailed. It looked even better than this one, and you didn’t think that was possible.

Your brows furrowed as you noticed one empty room. “Wait why is this area empty? What’s supposed to be there?” You pointed to the vacant space on the second floor. “It’s the champagne room, but the designer quit on me last minute before they got to it, so now I’m not sure how to finish it.”

“A champagne room? That’s new. You don’t have one here.” You point out the obvious. “Hence why it will be at the new one. It would give the dancers a chance to get some extra pay.” He reasons before spinning the replica back around to face him as you took another bite from your lunch, waiting to swallow before you spoke again, “You know, it’d be good if you stuck with that luxurious décor in the champagne room, maybe with some neon to bring a sense of life to the room.”

As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head Jungkook’s gaze bore into you like a drill. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your dad showed me your resumé when he had first asked me to get you a job here, you majored in interior design didn’t you?” Jungkook recalls when he had taken a look at your qualifications months ago.

“Yeah but I hated it.” You mumbled, but Jungkook would pretend he didn’t hear it. “You should design the champagne room.” He suggests, and you couldn’t lie. You got a little excited at his proposal.

You hated studying décor, but transforming such a space with so much potential was basically a makeover, and who didn’t love a good makeover. “Okay. I can do that." You smile before asking your next question, "So I’m like your business partner now? Do I get that designated parking space like you do?” Now you were going in over your head. Jungkook laughs, “You don’t even have a car.” Jungkook laughs.

“Think of it as a temporary job for now-” You weren’t surprised that your conversation had been interrupted by Jungkook’s ringtone. Must be those damned contractors-- or maybe not?

Jungkook’s expression had dropped so suddenly it genuinely worried you. “This is a fucking joke.” Were the first words to slip past his lips once he hung up. “What’s wrong? Is something delayed?” You knew one of the worst things when trying to expand was something being delayed, which has a butterfly effect and just delays the whole opening process.

“Lina just got arrested. She was caught shoplifting, and it’s not the first time. She was caught with over six thousand dollars worth of purses and jewelry in her car. ”

That’s terrible, impressive, but terrible.

“She’s facing up to 4 years,” Jungkook adds as he gets back to work

You stood up but Jungkook sat down. “Aren’t you gonna go see her?”

“Where? Behind bars where I said she would end up if she kept up her theft streak? No way. I’ll go another day. Thank god Mira’s with my parents today.” You couldn’t believe how calm he was right now. You knew they didn’t get along well if not at all, but you were expecting him to be even a little concerned.

Then again, when you thought about it. With Lina out of the picture for a little bit, it really does solve a lot of problems, but you still felt bad for her. “No- don’t make that face.” Jungkook points a finger at you accusingly.

“What face?”

“Your pity face. Don’t feel bad for her. She got herself into this mess.” Jungkook reminds you as he aggressively flips the page of his files. “But what about Mira. That’s her mother. Hypothetically speaking if Lina does plead guilty which she probably will then what? She’s just gonna miss all of Mira’s big moments for the next 2 to 4 years? Her birthdays, her first day of daycare, her playdates?” You try to reason with him, looking for even a little sympathy.

“Exactly. You would think that her own mother would consider the things she would be giving up if she kept doing what she did even after being warned. But no. She still did it anyways. She made her bed, now she has to lie in it.”

It sounded like he was being mean but he had a point, that not even you could argue with.

---

The next memorable moment came a little sooner than anticipated. With Lina unable to watch Lina anymore and Jungkook being busier than ever with the expansion there was no one to watch her.

Of course, he could leave her with his parents but they were getting old, the whole point of having kids was watching them grow up. He didn’t want them to feel like they had another responsibility. Even you had thought about offering to watch her, but you don’t even know how to change a diaper. It would be a nightmarish experience, and you'd hate to mess up.

“Daddy loves you so much, okay?” Jungkook reassures the 1-year old in his arms for the hundredth time as she reached out to play with his hair. She merely nodded before swinging her head to the side, making awkward eye contact with the ECE who seemed to be more than used to this first-day routine.

You simply stood quietly on the sidelines. Jungkook said he would be strong enough to send her off alone but it had been 15 minutes so you decided to join him and see just what exactly was going on.

Those damn workers love ruining a special moment and now was no exception as Jungkook’s phone rang in his pocket.

Jungkook supported the baby effortlessly against his chest with one hand while he took a look at the time. He was very late for a meeting he was supposed to have at the new venue. “Daddy’s gonna be in trouble if he doesn’t leave now, so you’re gonna stay with this nice lady and meet a lot of new people okay?” He says as he let the lady take Mira from his arms.

“Bye~” He waves to his daughter with a pained smile as she mimicked his words back to him before she was taken inside- Was he crying. “Are you-” He wiped the tears from his eyes before you had a chance to properly see them. “No, I’m not. It’s just cold outside. C’mon, let’s go.” He insists before walking back to the car.

You were never shy to admit just how fine of a man Jungkook was. Who could deny such a person? Broad shoulders, perfectly sculpted abs with legs crafted by the gods themselves, not to mention the perfection of his cut jawline with the most handsome face to pair. That’s why this outfit was driving you up the wall.

Dress pants that were just tight enough to tease the definition of his muscular thighs along with a black turtle neck that was maybe even a little too tight and left little to the imagination of what lay underneath. Spoiler alert: big pecks and a six-pack.

As if you weren’t suffering enough, Jungkook had insisted on helping some of the movers move around the boxes of furniture that were being delivered throughout the day, you watched with foam forming at the corners of your mouth as Jungkook rolled up the sleeved of his sweater, revealing the various designs of ink on his right forearm. Is this.. heaven?

You were so busy thinking about Jungkook you hadn’t even realized he was making his way towards you. “You okay? You look a little hot, do you need something to drink?” He places his hand on your upper arm giving it what was supposed to be a comforting squeeze but only elicited sparks to run through you and heat to flush your cheeks.

Repeatedly shaking your head letting him know you were fine. Just being near him had your brain short-circuiting and your heart running laps. “You ready to see the not-so-finished champagne room?” You agreed, initiating for Jungkook to take your hand in his as he led you upstairs to said room.

A little distracted, you watched as he unlocked the door with one of the many keys that were looped around the keyring. With a little more force than necessary for the average door, it had been pushed open.

Dust. That was all you could see for the first minute after the room was revealed.

“The building used to be a library back in the 50′s but it closed down ages ago and hasn’t been used in decades,” Jungkook says, which explains the boxes of books that were being exported during the weeks prior to this one. “This room is massive.” Your words proved true, as it was the equivalent to the size of a small ballroom.

“I know, it’s great. We can fit in two bars, one on each side of the room. It’s convenient as one of our sponsors owns a vineyard. This way we can use their financial endorsement to both benefit the club and even sell some of their products.”

“Y/n?” He looks down to you when he was missing any form of contribution to the conversation from you. You swear you were listening, but it’s Jungkook, and he just looks so fucking good today, and you loved it when he got all business-y when he was with you.

“If you wanted to fuck you should’ve said something.” Absolute terror was evident on your face at his obscene words while you tried not to explode at the heat underneath his fingertips as they brushed the strands of hair from your face. You were incapable of forming coherent sentences, “H-how-”

“Oh, sweet Y/n. Do you think I haven’t seen that look on you before? Face all flushed, shallow breathing, bedroom eyes.” The last part almost came out like a purr, rolling off his tongue in seduction as he watched you fall apart under his touch. His other hand dropped down to hold you securely at your waist, “Just let me know if you wanna get outta here for a minute and-”

“I wanna get out of here.” You wasted no time and had little to no shame left in you to care about how desperate it may have come out.

That day you could check off fucking in the back of his car off your list.

Fortunately, it wouldn’t be the last time it happened either.

“How’s it feel being 24?” Those were Jungkook’s first words aimed at you the moment you had made your way down the stairs, the same ones you had asked him at the hotel. You were shocked but not surprised to see the kitchen table completely covered with gift bags. “Are these all for me?” You tried to sound surprised you did, but you couldn’t hide it. “You know they are.” Jungkook smiles as he welcomes your hug with open arms.

“Happy Birthday.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck before reaching behind his back and revealing a small black box. You stepped back cautiously, he wasn’t gonna propose, was he...

“Here, open it.” He tossed it to you-- This was too informal to be a proposal, so you were able to drop your shoulders a bit as you fondled with the box in your hands. Flicking the top open, unable to believe what you were seeing. You thought you’d never see it again.

You took it out of the box holding it with the tips of your freshly done nails.

Car keys.

Your car keys.

You recognized them anywhere by the customized keyring and keys. “Jungkook..” You were truly speechless.. taking slow steps towards the front door until it became a full sprint. Screaming at the sight of your car sitting on the driveway. You were so happy you could cry, so you did.

You don’t know how Jungkook managed to get it from your father but you didn't care. The words 'thank you' fell from your lips an infinite number of times as you looked back at the front door seeing Jungkook with Mira in his arms.

“That’s not all.” Jungkook had called you back inside. You never thought you’d say that you had too many presents but you were about to. “You didn’t have to get me all this stuff-” Jungkook merely shushes you while Mira imitated before he led you back to the kitchen and picked out the burgundy bag with black tissue paper allowing you to have the honours of opening it.

“Oh my god.” Your hand clasped itself over your mouth at the portrait of you. “Y-you made this?” There was that wavering tone in your voice that indicated tears were well on their way again. “I’m not supposed to cry this much on my birthday.” You jokingly hit him as you looked at the painting in awe.

“Do you like it? I know it’s not the best painting in the world, it’s so hard to-” You could sense your silence had flipped Jungkook to begin rambling anxiously in case you didn’t like it, but you made sure he knew just how much you appreciated it with a tight embrace, you didn’t even mind that Mira was very much included in the hug. “It’s perfect. I love it. I love everything about it. I love you.”

This time you were very aware of what you had said before the eight letters had even registered in Jungkook’s head. Your eyes are just as wide as the last time you let your emotions speak for you. With haste, you pulled back and scanned Jungkook’s features for any signs of... anything. There were no emotions on his face until he broke out with a sneaky grin.

“I was wondering when you would say it.” You gasp. “What’s that supposed to mean, you wanted me to say it first?!” Another hit to his arm that wasn't carrying the 15-month-old. “Not necessarily, I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to say it if I said it first, and I’m not going to lie, I’ve almost said it a handful of times just in this past week.”

Ah, that would explain the strange “I love you-r- red. I love you in red.” comment he had made one evening as the two of you were getting ready to leave for an outing. You were wearing purple.

You smiled at the thought that Jungkook had to physically fight off the urge of saying those words. “I love you, Y/n.” He says, the words sending straight heat to your body. Not in a sexual way but in a raw emotional way. “I love you too.” He had leaned forwards to drop a kiss to your lips but Mira had other plans as she began to flail her arms about as she was panicking to be put down.

With a smile he lets her stand on her own two feet before focusing back on you. Not even you could contain your smile just from looking at him. Words couldn’t explain how you felt about Jungkook. There were not enough words in the love languages themselves to even begin to illustrate your adoration.

You felt the heat of his palms place themselves on your cheeks as he leaned towards you and dropped a heated kiss to your lips. The kiss started slow and passionate before it had begun to pick up in desire and desperation but you had to remind yourselves of the child in the room before you both pulled away smiling like fools in love.

---

“Ready?” Jungkook asks with his hand on the knob of the door, awaiting your approval to open it. It was time for the grand reveal of the champagne room, the one you had spent the last few months designing, with Jungkook looking over your shoulder of course, always in awe of the arrangements you’d make.

With a deep breath in you mentally prepared yourself for the revelation.

“Yeah.”

He twisted the knob and pushed it open with ease unlike last time now that they had changed the door. You gasped. Even though you had spent months in here, memorizing its dimensions like the back of your hand it was so much more stunning when you had seen it all come together for once.

The elegant lighting along with the sharp hues of neon coming from behind the bars. Falling in love with the way the dim yet colourful light bounced off the chic furniture that was strategically placed in its rightful spaces around the room. Jungkook hadn’t said anything and suddenly you felt a wave of anxiety run through you.

Jungkook had trusted you throughout this whole process, investing in you and believing in you. What if you just fucked it up. You refused to say anything until he did, fortunately, you didn’t have to wait much longer for his next words.

“It’s perfect.” With a smile, you dropped your shoulders with an exaggerated breath. “You really think so?” You looked up to him, still in shock from his reaction. “I mean it. I think you did a better job than the other designer could’ve ever done.” At first, you laughed, thinking he was just trying to make you feel better but with a little extra examination of his expression you knew he was serious and your chest felt warm at his praises.

Soon the two of you made your way to his new office, the décor just as sleek and sophisticated as his other but in a different way. You found yourself sitting in front of his desk while he sat behind it.

“You open in two weeks, are you ready?” You take the time to ask him how he feels about the second venue's approaching grand opening. Now it was his turn to sigh before he ran a hand lightly accessorized with rings through his hair. “I’m ready, but I’m not sure the neighbouring buildings are. We get a shit ton of people lined up outside to the point it wraps around the block. I just hope we don’t get too many complaints.”

You knew Platinum Panther was a big club, but you didn’t know it was channels 3,4, and 7 big. There were at least three different news reporters that you could see waiting outside the doors of the club along with the hundreds of people awaiting the ribbon to be cut for the opening.

Jungkook always looks good, this wasn’t news to anyone, but today was something else. Designer red and black blazer with paisley patterning along with black dress pants and shoes. You felt like you were losing your mind but you forced yourself to push those thoughts aside and focus on the countdown before cutting the ribbon.

“3, 2, 1.” You watched with pride as Jungkook snipped at the delicate red fabric that was stretched across the doors. On cue, the music from inside began to blast, still sounding a bit muffled from out here but you knew from personal experience just how loud it really was.

In honour of it being opening day, those who showed up today don’t need to be on the guest list, but the bouncers were in charge of body counts to make sure there weren’t too many people inside since it’s a fire hazard.

Jungkook had led you upstairs to the balcony area that seemed to have been reserved for the two of you for the moment. “You did it.” You smile as you looked over the incredibly full lower level, watching the people below have the time of their lives and for once, you weren’t jealous, because you got to watch them while standing beside the man who made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

“Thank you,” You say loud enough so that he could hear you over the music, at first you didn’t think he had heard you until he had questioned you, “For what?”

“For putting up with me when no one else did.” You say, doing your best to hold your composure and not ruin this celebratory moment. He smiles, snaking his arm around your waist as the both of you continue to look down below. “I never had to 'put up' with you. You brought a lot of insight and happiness to my life, with an equivalent amount of attitude.” You laugh at the last part, something about the moment feeling unreal.

You couldn’t believe how much had changed in the last year. You’d gotten away from your father, started working- more or less, have unlimited access to platinum panther, lost contact with the same friends you were dying to hang out with before, you had learned how to change a diaper. As if that wasn’t monumental enough, now you find yourself head over heels in love and in a committed relationship. It was horrifying really, and you still occasionally had to process it and calm yourself down but you were happy. The happiest you’d ever been.

And to think it all started at Platinum Panther. A club where only the richest individuals could find themselves lounging back on velvet seats, sipping the finest drinks and watching the most beautiful women. A place built for the sins of the rich, but ironically the place where you fell in love.

#BTS jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook ff #jungkook fic recs #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts #bts one shot #jeon jeongkook #scenarios #dilf jungkook #single dad jungkook #jungkook fanfiction

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

Love Sick

Masterlist

Summary: A story about how Spencer’s worst decision ever somehow ends up being his best.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! This fic is loosely based on a request I got about Spencer faking an illness to keep the reader from going on a date.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing

Word Count: 4k

Spencer has done a terrible, awful thing.

He wants to argue that he doesn’t know what came over him, but that would be untrue and he’s already met today’s quota on little white lies. Spencer knows exactly what possessed him to call you up at seven thirty on a Saturday night, and it wasn’t so that the two of you could discuss the weather or the recent upward trend in the stock market. Spencer’s spontaneous (panicked) phone call to you was a brazen attempt to abate the green-eyed monster that had been whispering dreadful things in his ear for the better part of a week.

To put it simply; Spencer is jealous, and he’s dealing with it rather poorly.

So poorly that he’s resorted to sabotage.

As he sits on his couch and worries at a hole in the bottom of his designated lounging sweatshirt, Spencer attempts to justify his actions. His tiny fib won’t hurt anyone . . . except, perhaps, one annoyingly perfect and stupidly handsome veterinarian. But Spencer can live with that. Potentially scorning an animal care specialist isn’t the thing that has his stomach in knots. That, he can live with. Spencer doesn’t even have pets, so there’s no longterm consequences as far as the vet is concerned. The notion of lying to you, on the other hand?

Spencer is positively sick with nerves.

He’s not sure why. Spencer’s gotten rather good at lying to you. Several months of pining for you from across the hallway of your shared apartment complex has turned him into quite the master of deceit, after all. He was a sucker from the moment he opened his door and lay his eyes on you, arms outstretched and wielding a plate of homemade sweets. The cookies were lovely, but the breathtaking smile on your face is what really did him in.

Since that first day, Spencer’s gone out of his way to ensure that he’s on the receiving end of that smile as often as possible. His efforts are never in vain; for reasons unbeknownst to him, you seem to enjoy spending time with him just as much as he did you. This mutual fondness results in most of Spencer’s off days being spent in your company. Spencer was certain that, with time, he would work up the nerve to ask you out on a date. He’s halfway to convincing himself that you might even say yes when your cat makes the unfortunate decision to steal a brownie from your plate and gulp the whole thing down.

Enter, aforementioned veterinarian.

The sound of your door opening from across the hall has Spencer breaking out into a cold sweat. His hand is halfway to his forehead, ready to wipe away the perspiration when he pauses. His body’s anxious reaction might just help him sell his story. Yes, Spencer thinks, this is a good thing. Authenticity, and all that.

Several soft footsteps are muffled by the door that separates him from you, and then his doorknob jiggles as you struggle to fit your key into the lock. A jolt of adrenaline surges through Spencer and in the blink of an eye he’s on his feet and sprinting to his bathroom in the name of authenticity. If he wants to keep up this ridiculous façade, and he really, really does, Spencer is prepared to fake it until he makes it. The alternative is far too mortifying. Failure is not an option.

Spencer cringes when he lifts his eyes to meet his reflection. He’s been told more than once that he’s an absolutely terrible liar, and the wide, guilty eyes that stare back at him confirm this. All it will take is one look at him and you’ll know something’s amiss. Perhaps it isn’t too late for Spencer to come clean. It would be embarrassing, yeah, but no less embarrassing than it would be an hour from now when you call him on his shit. But then again, there is always the possibility that you will get angry with him and leave, and Spencer isn’t willing to risk you walking away from him. Not tonight.

Spencer barely has the time to splash some cold water on his face and dive to the bathroom floor before you’re pushing open the door to his apartment and calling out his name. His brain, the part that isn’t rendered useless in his panicked state, reminds him of just how many germs can be found on the average bathroom floor. It’s enough to make him pause, but only for a moment. He takes a deep breath before slumping over against the toilet.

Showtime.

“M’ in here,” Spencer calls out in his croakiest voice. It comes out exactly as he intended, all rough and pitiful. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.

The soft pitter patter of your bare feet makes his heart rate increase exponentially. Spencer steels himself, recites a reassuring mantra in his head. I can do this; I can do this.

Spencer’s poor, overworked heart gets a much-needed rest when you step into the doorway. In fact, he’s almost certain it stops completely at the sight of you in a tiny red dress. A tiny red dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Spencer can’t even see past his mounting panic to enjoy the way you look. That damn red dress serves as a brutal reminder of why he’s sitting in his bathroom floor, clutching his toilet bowl and damn near drowning in a nervous sweat.

The thing is, Spencer hadn’t intended on sabotaging your date with the vet. He had every intention of staying in, wallowing in his sorrows and waiting up for you. Spencer even said this to Derek, who was kind enough to call him and remind him of how big of a jackass he was. Spencer didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware.

But then Derek said something that made Spencer’s blood run cold.

“And what exactly do you plan to do if she doesn’t come home?”

So, really, it’s Derek’s fault that Spencer promptly ended the call and dialed your number. It’s also Derek’s fault that Spencer is about to give the most convincing performance of his entire fucking life.

“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so awful.” And he does feel awful, just not in the way you think.

You’re quick to close the distance between the two of you, dropping to your knees and brushing stray pieces of hair away from Spencer’s clammy forehead. His skin sings where your hand grazes it. If he didn’t have a fever before, he will if you don’t stop touching him.

“Don’t ever apologize, Spence. I wish you’d have called me sooner,” you murmur. Warm, concerned eyes drag across Spencer’s bedraggled appearance. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

Spencer gulps. “A few hours, I guess. I ate my leftovers from last night for lunch. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.”Lies, lies, lies!

Your brow furrows. “That’s strange. I ate mine, too, and I feel fine.”

Spencer doesn’t really have an argument for that, so he fakes a pained groan and rests his head against his arm. He closes his eyes and prays the intro to theater class he took in high school will pay off.

You must deem his act convincing enough because you press a soft kiss to the top of his hair and stand. Spencer hears the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of running water.

The tender touch of your hand on his shoulder has him raising his head and looking up at you, inquisitive. You place a cold washrag to his forehead, and Spencer melts into the touch. It feels heavenly against his hot skin.

“Do you think you could manage to take a shower?” you prompt, earning a feeble nod from Spencer. He doesn’t even have to fake the way he trembles as you run the damp cloth down his neck. “I think I have some broccoli and cheddar soup at my apartment. I’ll go change and grab it while you shower.”

Elation spreads through Spencer, pouring from his heart until it reaches the very tips of his extremities. He can’t believe his scheme hasn’t blown up in his face already.

With the help of your outstretched hand, Spencer rises to his feet and braces himself against the shower door. You make no move to remove your hand from his, and that gives him the courage to ask his next question.

“What about your date?”

You shrug and an easy smile spreads across your face. Spencer feels faint. He blames it on his imaginary illness.

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing I’m concerned with right now is taking care of you.”

Spencer bites down hard on the flesh of his cheek to keep a smug grin at bay. This is a victory he’ll have to celebrate at a later date.

Spencer enters his living room, freshly showered and donned in clean pajamas, to the sound of your voice speaking quietly into your cellphone. He halts just before he enters his kitchen, straining to catch a snippet of your conversation. As he leans closer to the sound of your voice, Spencer halfheartedly chastises himself. First, he deceives you, now he’s resorting to eavesdropping. Rock, meet bottom.

He’s just about to wrench himself away and retreat to the couch, when:

“I really am sorry about cancelling, especially on such short notice.” A short stretch of silence follows. “Next Saturday? Oh. Um, yeah, I’ll let you know, okay?”

Spencer is very much like a popped balloon; the earlier feelings of elation leave him in a harsh gust. Next Saturday? He barely managed to derail this Saturday’s date! No way he could get away with it a second time.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, Spencer misses you exchanging goodbyes with the vet before collecting Spencer’s bowl of soup. He’s still standing there, absolutely crestfallen, when you round the corner. You nearly collide with his chest, narrowly avoiding it by skidding to a halt in front of him. Your eyes run up his frame, assessing him, until they rest on his face.

“You scared me, Spence,” you chuckle. You cock your head to the side. Spencer imagines his expression is none dissimilar to that of a disgruntled frog. “You feeling okay? You’re not going to puke again, are you?”

Honestly, he might. The idea of you rescheduling your date with the vet is about as vomit inducing as it gets.

“I’m fine,” Spencer says on an exhale. Funnily, it’s probably the biggest lie he’s told all day. “The shower helped.”

His delivery is flat, but you don’t seem to mind. You smile up at him, relieved, and Spencer’s chest aches.

“I was thinking you and I could watch a movie?” you offer, and Spencer nods his assent. He can’t fathom turning you down. Not when you’re wearing an old sweatshirt you stole from his closet and a pair of fuzzy socks with little hearts on them. The ache intensifies.

“What are we watching?”

You plop down on the couch and look at him expectantly. He follows in suit, settling in beside you.

“I was thinking that you could choose,” you murmur as you place the bowl in his hands. Spencer shoots a teasing smile your way as he raises the spoon to his mouth.

“You mean, you’re actually going to let me pick the movie? I should get sick more often.”

His cheek earns him an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “You always pick the movie.”

He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten to pick the movie.

Spencer is about to launch into an impassioned rebuttal when the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp renders him speechless. His eyes dart to your face as you concentrate on scrolling through the TV guide, seemingly unaware of the effect the simple act has on him. Meanwhile, Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

You begin to read off a list of potential movies to him, but Spencer barely hears you. He’s practically purring as you twirl his curls around lithe fingers, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as an intense feeling of euphoria washes over him. Maybe it’s because he’s touch starved, or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since someone just looked after him. Whatever it is, Spencer embraces it wholeheartedly.

“-heard it’s pretty good. So, what do you say, Spence?”

Spencer pulls himself back to the present, blinking lazily at you. You’re looking at him, expectant, and Spencer’s eyes flit to the TV. His eyes skim its contents, reading briefly about a movie in which some family moves into a haunted house.

His face breaks out into a grin and he nods, because Spencer’s known you long enough to recognize that watching a horror movie usually results in you pressed tightly to his side and clinging to his hand. He also knows that nine times out of ten, you choose to watch a horror movie over anything else. No wonder he always lets you choose.

And sure enough, not even ten minutes in, Spencer is ditching his bowl of soup and pulling you into his arms. Once you’ve draped a blanket around the two of you settled in, you glance up at him.

“How are you feeling, Spence?”

Spencer responds by saying that he’s suddenly feeling much better.

Spencer Reid - 1, Veterinarian – 0

Spencer’s not sure at which point he fell asleep. All he knows is that he certainly does not remember sprawling out across your body, nor does he remember tucking his head into the crook of your neck. But this is how he finds himself when the sun begins to pour in through his windows the next morning, and Spencer can’t bring himself to care about how he came to be there.

Spencer guesstimates that it’s no later than seven in the morning. You’re still fast asleep underneath him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. It’s early, and it’s Sunday, and Spencer can’t think of a single reason to wake you. Instead, he snuggles in closer, because he’d be a fool not to enjoy this while it lasts.

Unfortunately, the shrill sound of Spencer’s ringing phone shatters the serenity. He prays that it won’t disturb you, that you’ll remain oblivious and continue to sleep, but that hope is shattered when you begin to shift underneath him. Spencer makes quick work of peeling himself off of you before dashing to his kitchen and snatching his phone off the table.

He’s prepared to verbally assault whoever has the audacity to defile the sanctity of lazy Sunday mornings when a quick peek into the living room finds you still fast asleep on his sofa. He smiles, soft and fond, before pressing the accept button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.” Spencer’s smile transforms into a grimace. Apparently, Derek Morgan doesn’t believe in lie-ins. “I was preparing myself for a rescue mission.”

“It’s seven in the morning. I was asleep.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Pretty Boy?”

“You, when you decided that it was acceptable to ring me before eight,” Spencer whisper shouts. He knows that he’s being touchy, to say the least, but who can blame him? Five minutes ago, he was cuddling with the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Now, he’s shooting the breeze with a colleague. Obviously, Spencer would prefer the former to the latter.

“Jesus, kid. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that girl of yours didn’t make it home, after all. You okay?”

The guilty feeling returns and Spencer cringes. “Uh, define ‘okay.’”

Derek curses on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, kid. Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you’ve just gotta put yourself out there. How’s this; you and me will go out next weekend and bar hop. I’ll teach you some Derek Morgan tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you’ll have forgotten all about her.”

“I don’t know, that might be hard.” Spencer scratches the back of his neck. “She’s asleep on my couch right now.”

A long stretch of silence comes from the other end of the line, and Spencer thinks for a moment that the call dropped. Unfortunately, he isn’t that lucky. A booming laugh erupts from the speaker and makes him jump out of his skin.

“My man!” Derek laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t think you had it in you, I’ll be honest.”

“It’s not what you think-”

“How did you manage that? Did the Good Doctor make a grand romantic gesture? Damn, I really hate that I missed that.”

“No, there were no gestures. And it’s not-”

Derek cuts him off. Again. “How’d she take the news? I’m assuming she took it well, if she stayed the night.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” Spencer spits out, frustrated. “I… I told her I was sick. She came over to take care of me, and we fell asleep on the couch.”

Spencer’s proclamation is met with another long silence.

“So, you sabotaged the date?”

Spencer winces. “I did not sabotage it. I just… manipulated the situation a little.”

“Oh, you certainly did,” Derek chuckles. “How did you pull that off? I’ve seen you try to lie. That shit is laughable.”

Spencer opens his mouth to defend himself, but the pitter patter of socked feet approaching him from behind has his mouth running dry.

“Yeah, Spencer. How did you pull that off?”

Spencer had been correct in his earlier assumptions. The inevitable moment in which you called him out on his shit has arrived, and it’s every bit as mortifying as he expected. So mortifying that he can practically feel the blood drain from his face. And the thing is that he knows he deserves whatever you’re about to throw his way… it’s just that the thought of you being angry with him kind of makes him want to cry. And that would only add to the mortification.

He turns around slowly, his body rigid, until he’s met with the adorably rumpled vision of you with your arms crossed and your hair sticking up in all directions.

Spencer’s never seen anything quite so mesmerizing, and it hurts because he knows he’s ruined everything. He’ll never get to watch another scary movie with you tucked neatly against his side, or wake up in your arms again. He’ll never get to kiss you.

And the worst of all; Spencer will never get to tell you how he really feels. It’s a crying shame, because he thinks he could have been really good at loving you.

“Hey, Derek, I gotta go.”

Spencer presses the end call button and immerses himself in what has to be the most awkward stand-off of all time. You stand there, arms crossed, head cocked to the side with one hip jutted out. Spencer isn’t sure how you manage to look intimidating and endearing at the same time. He supposes the fuzzy socks are to blame.

Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Spencer is approximately three seconds away from dropping to his knees and groveling when you finally speak.

“You sabotaged my date.”

Spencer lets out a strangled laugh. Perhaps humor is the way to go? It couldn’t hurt to try. In his opinion, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I think sabotage is a strong word. I prefer the term obstruct.”

You let loose a laugh of your own, but this one holds no humor. “And I prefer keeping the company of people who don’t lie to me.” Okay, maybe it can get worse.

Spencer visibly deflates. It was a stupid idea. He’s never been a funny guy.

“I am so, so, so incredibly sorry.” Sorry for lying to you, that is. Spencer isn’t in the least bit apologetic for ruining your date. Given the chance, he’d do it again - in a more tactful way, of course. Preferably, in such a way that didn’t involve him laying in his bathroom floor.

Spencer attempts to take a step forward, only to be rooted to the spot when you fix him with a look. He’s not funny but he is smart – smart enough to know better than to push it.

“Why did you do it?”

Spencer was really hoping you wouldn’t ask that.

“I-I…”

Apparently, an eidetic memory doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to confrontations involving pretty girls. One quirk of an immaculately plucked eyebrow and Spencer loses the ability to recall a single word of the English language. It’s tragic, really.

“Spit it out, Spencer.”

“I didn’t want you to go on the date.” It’s like ripping off a band aid, the way the words tumble from his lips. It’s painless at first, but then the sting sets in when he realizes what he’s done.

Your lack of reaction doesn’t help. Your face remains passive, as if he didn’t just offer himself to you on a silver platter. Spencer squirms uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you want me to go on the date?”

God, this is excruciating. You’re clearly out for blood, and the twinkle in your eye shows just how much you’re enjoying this. Spencer would have never taken you for a sadist.

“Because…” Spencer trails off and allows his eyes to drift closed. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it his way. With his eyes closed, because he can’t bear the thought of looking you in the eye when you reject him. “B-Because I like you. A lot.”

Spencer hasn’t had a lot of practice at being wrong. In fact, he’s spent the majority of his life being right. It seems the universe is making up for that now, because he can’t seem to get a single goddamn thing right today.

You laugh at him. You actually laugh in his face. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“You like me.” It isn’t a question.

Spencer keeps his eyes shut tight.

“Y-Yeah.”

You know how they say if you take away one of a person’s senses, all of the others are heightened? Spencer couldn’t disagree more. In the midst of his despair, he’s completely unaware that you’ve crossed the room and are now standing directly in front of him until you speak again.

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate,” you sigh. Spencer inhales a sharp breath when he realizes you’re close enough to touch. Still, he keeps his eyes closed.

“Uh, why is that?”

Spencer nearly jumps out of his skin when your hand reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw.

“Because, Spencer,” you murmur, silky and sweet. “I was hoping you just might love me.”

Spencer’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted by a lazy, contented smile. It’s similar to the one that greeted him when he opened his front door on that very first day, but it’s better somehow. Later reflection will determine that it’s better because it’s the kind of smile reserved just for him. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, really.

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” You tilt your head up and rest your palm on Spencer’s chest. His heartbeat is erratic, thundering hard against his ribcage. He’d surely be embarrassed if he wasn’t about to faint from shock. “Do you love me, Spencer Reid?”

Spencer doesn’t even have to think twice.

“More than anything.”

“Good.” Your thumb brushes across the apple of his cheek, eliciting a full body shudder. “I was beginning to think you would never catch up.”

Spencer must be hallucinating. That, or this is all a dream and any second now his alarm is going to go off. He subtly pinches himself on the thigh to test the theory. You can imagine his surprise when nothing changes. He doesn’t wake up in a pile of his own drool, and now the skin on his thigh stings.

“You . . . You like me, too?”

You shake your head. “No, Spencer. I love you, too. Why do you think I bake you cookies and spend all of my free time in your apartment?”

“Because my couch is better than yours?” Spencer deadpans.

“I mean, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But it’s not the only reason.”

“What about the vet?” It must be his guilty conscious talking, because Spencer cannot conjure up any other reason he has for asking such a moronic question. He, personally, could not care less about the vet. Full offense intended.

“Cameron is a nice guy, sure,” you trail off. Spencer doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes. “But he’s not really my type.”

“And what is your type, exactly?” A giddy grin finds its way to Spencer’s face. He’s notorious for being chronically clueless, but even the master of imperception himself can see where this is going.

You snort, and it’s adorable. “Liars, apparently.”

It’s impossible to determine who moves first, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the end result of Spencer’s lips colliding with yours. It’s earth-shatteringly lovely; slow and sweet and tentative. There’s no rushing, no frantic fumbling of hands. Just the reverent drag of your lips against his, warm and intoxicating.

Spencer eventually regains the use of his limbs and when he does, he’s snaking one arm around your waist as the other entangles itself in your wonderfully unruly hair.

You sigh a happy sigh against his lips and Spencer’s heart soars. In a completely unforeseen turn of events, the possibility of more lazy Sunday mornings is now back on the table. Thank God he’s better at lying than he gave himself credit for.

God, and Derek Morgan’s meddling ass.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff

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pearsonstickseason · 3 years

Text

lovers exposed

– ship: loki laufeyson x reader – warnings: swearing, sexual content – word count: 1,091

"Loki..." your voice trails off into an inaudible whisper.

His breath is hot against your skin and his fingertips leave chills in their path. He's touching you all over and it's like he can't get enough of you. It's not like you want him to get enough of you anyway.

The two of you had been engaging in quite the series of daily, nightly, sometimes every few hour meetups. As of now, you two are the only ones aware of these meetups. For the time being that's how you wanted it to remain. You planned to tell everyone eventually. At some point. That point just wasn't today. You and Thor had managed to convince the rest of the Avengers to give Loki a chance and let him live at the compound with everyone. You had taken quite the liking to Loki once you got to know him for who he really is. Once he lost his super homicidal edge. You found him quite charming. The way his eyes light up when he really, genuinely smiles. The way his laugh sounds. The way his hair falls in his peaceful looking face when he's sleeping. You adore the way he looks when he's focused. And he's quite the training partner. Everyone seemed to think of you two as just really good friends. And you are. Really good friends who hold hands, hug longer than what is considered normal, kiss (which usually turns into a makeout session), and sleep together (in both ways). Really good friends that have been dating in secret for months. No one ever seemed to question the relationship between you and Loki.

Currently, Loki is putting you through the works. Your heart is racing and you're struggling to take even breaths. You have one hand tangled in his hair and the other is tightly gripping his back, your nails digging into his skin.

"Oh, darling..." he whispers into your ear, "you always feel so good..."

Just the sound of his voice causes a moan to escape you as your eyes squeeze shut. He knows just how to treat you. His thrusts are slow and somewhat gentle. That is until he suddenly grabs your hips and flips you around so you're on your hands and knees.

"Fuck..." you mutter.

Considering that it's nearing midnight and everyone else in the compound should be sleeping, you are trying your very best to be as quiet as possible. However, the man positioning himself behind you isn't making that very easy.

Loki grips your hips roughly giving everything he has into his thrusts. A few moans that were a bit too loud for his comfort slip from your lips and he reaches forward, clasping a hand over your mouth.

"I need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that?" He whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

You nod, turning your head to catch a glimpse of the glorious man that is wreaking havoc on you and your life. You know that after Loki another man could never possibly compare, so you'll either carry on hooking up with Loki forever, or you'll be lonely, miserable, and celibate for the rest of your life. You'd prefer the first.

Your skin is glistening with sweat and your toes are curling as you put all the energy you have into not screaming Loki's name and waking the whole compound.

It seems both of you are too preoccupied to notice that it has reached midnight, meaning it's now your birthday. That is until the door swings open and everyone that lives in the compound is filling the room while holding balloons and blowing party horns.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY (Y/N)!"

"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE FUCK!?" You scream, pushing Loki away from you as you look at the group in the doorway, grabbing the comforter to cover your body as you crouch down on the opposite side of the bed, leaving Loki to use his hands to cover himself.

"I knew it!" Tony remarks, gesturing to you and Loki.

"Tony, now is not the time. Let's give them a minute." Cap says, ushering everyone out of the room.

You turn to Loki, pressing your face against the bed as he gently rubs your head.

"I can't believe this..." you mutter, slamming your fist against the bed a few times.

"Well... at least this has saved us the trouble of having to tell them ourselves... and this is quite the way to ring in your birthday."

You look up to meet his eyes, giving an unamused look at the sight of the smile on his face, "I would much rather celebrate the way we were. Without everyone else."

"We still can..." he smirks, grabbing your hands.

"Not now, Laufeyson." You mumble, standing up and putting some clothes on to go and face the group of people that just saw way more of you than they ever should have.

"Cap saw me naked. I am not okay with that. He's not supposed to know I know about sex." You mumble glancing at Loki and throwing some clothes to him.

"(Y/N), I think he has known for a while that you know what sex is."

"Shut up."

You walk out of Loki's bedroom and are met by the Avengers standing awkwardly in the hallway. You all just stare at each other until Loki emerges from the bedroom, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Well... wasn't that quite fun?" Loki asks with a smile.

"It was mortifying." You reply and earn uncomfortable nods in agreement from the group.

"I just want to say that I knew about this. I have been telling everyone else for weeks that there has been something going on between the two of you. I've probably known since the start." Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Actually, we've been dating for a few months now. It's actually been almost six months since we started dating."

"Okay, that is a little bit unexpected."

"Either way, I'm going to bed now and none of you are bothering me until I get up. And you all owe me breakfast to make up for ruining the way I chose to celebrate my birthday." You say as you begin to walk back to Loki's room.

"Except for you, Laufeyson. You come with me." You say, walking back and grabbing his hand to pull him with you.

Once you are back into Loki's room, you pull him onto the bed with you, grabbing the comforter from the floor and pulling over the two of you.

"Happy birthday, darling." He whispers gently.

"I will accept that from you once you learn to lock the door." You mumble, closing your eyes.

#loki laufeyson #loki #loki mcu #mcu loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki series #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfic

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

richboy!yeosang (part 5)

word count: 6k

angst, fluff (tw: postpartum depression)

(part 4) (miniseries masterlist)

kang jang-mi was born at seven pounds, four ounces on what felt like the hottest day in june.

your friends sat anxiously in the waiting room, the last remaining quarrels about if it’s a boy or a girl quietly spoken and much more positive. mingi and yunho could only sit there sharing side-eyes and smirks, your slip up in the coffee shop filling them with excitement.

“i still think it’s a boy,” jongho says, “i’m confident.”

“i already bought the it’s a girl balloon so it better be.”

“well i bought the it’s a boy balloon so...”

yeosang walking into the waiting room stops the conversation immediately, a smirk crossing his face at the two different types of balloons. the boys are up and out of their seats immediately, rushing over to the new father with a flurry of questions and comments.

but the man is used to this type of chaos from his friends, silencing them with a single finger before attempting to get to all of their questions - or at least some of them.

“y/n and the baby are okay. she can only see two people at a time and she personally requested mingi and yunho first.”

disappointed sighs and groans leave the other boys as mingi and yunho shoot up from their seats, scurrying over to yeosang who shares a knowing smile with the couple.

“wait, wait, wait,” jongho says when the three men turn to leave, yeosang looking him over questioningly.

he watches with a growing smirk as his youngest friend grabs a blue balloon before snatching away san’s ‘it’s a girl’, offering them both to him expectantly.

“which one?”

multiple heads of innocent bystanders and smirking staffs snap to the big group of men, surprised gasps leaving all of them when yeosang wordlessly takes the pink balloon and pushes mingi and yunho toward your room.

chaos erupts from the other group of boys being left in the waiting room, other bystanders and nurses watching along with wide-eyed expressions.

“i told you, you silly fuck!”

“they got it wrong. i was- i was so sure.”

“did she really ask for us or did you feel bad that we were stuck with them?” yunho chuckles out, yeosang sharing a smirk with the boy as they walk down the hall.

“a little bit of both,” he says, stopping in front of the door and peeking inside.

he can see through the window that your eyes are shut, the sweat once dripping down your face gone as you lay completely still and relaxed.

the labor had been hard but you’d gotten through it well, to no one’s surprise.

you squeezed his hand while you screamed and cried, swearing you were never gonna do this again and will only trust in condoms from here on out. you blamed him for his “kink for elevators” and only didn’t burst out laughing because he knew you were in pain.

but now as lay still and healthy, your baby in the newborn unit adjusting to the new world, he feels a different type of content. all the fear and anxiety about the unknowns settled with the simple fact that you’re okay and the baby’s okay.

“they’re both doing really good, though. y/n’s not mad at me anymore for getting her pregnant so that’s a good sign,” yeosang chuckles, his eyes looking toward you lovingly before meeting yunho and mingi’s gaze again.

“we got to talk and we wanted to ask you two something,” the boy says, his eyes moving from yunho to mingi before hardening slightly.

“i wanted yunho as the god parent but y/n insisted that you have to be as well,” he says, underneath the mock look of disdain and irritation an intense happiness and warmth everyone can clearly see.

“i don’t know want you thinking this was my idea. so... what do you guys say? wanna be godparents?” yeosang smiles, the overwhelming look in yunho and mingi’s eyes making him chuckle; they both look ready to cry and scream in joy.

“maybe try to not let my daughter now you’ve tried to kill me on multiple occasions,” he adds to mingi, the boy rolling his eyes despite the way he reaches out and pats his shoulder.

the movement’s a little awkward and unfamiliar but neither of the boys say anything, an unspoken respect and liking for each other that’s come about within the past years.

both of them know the other would never do anything to hurt you purposely and they know the same will be said for jang-mi.

“of course, are you kidding me!” yunho chuckles out, pulling yeosang’s smaller boy into his. “thank you, yeosang. that’s so... this is gonna be so cool.”

yeosang smiles and nods his head, looking back at you to see you’re now sitting up awake and stretching your arms up.

the three boys bursting through the door cause you to look over and smile lazily, a quiet, “hi,” before you’re promptly pulled into a hug.

“be careful,” yeosang growls at mingi, the taller boy ignoring him completely; of course he was being careful, you just pushed out a baby a few hours ago.

“how you feeling?” yunho asks before his smile widens. “i’m asking as, you know, the godparent...”

“you... asked them without me?!” you whined softly at yeosang, smacking him in the stomach as he throws his arms up defensively.

“you were sleeping, baby, you said it was okay,” he whines back, bending down to peck a kiss on your head.

“i know but i still wanted to-”

the nurse knocking on the door rips your attention away, eyes wide and alert as you think she’s about to tell you something is wrong; but then she’s there smiling softly, holding a pink blanket with your baby wrapped up in it that causes mingi and yunho to gasp quietly.

“oh, my god.... she’s so small,” mingi whispers, yunho snorting next to him as he throws his arm around his shoulder.

“what’d you expect? she’s a baby,” he responds, watching as you so naturally take the baby in your arms.

you’d always been a little scared of just how delicate newborn babies are, feeling awkward or nervous to take them or hold them in the wrong way.

but it’s like the eight and a half month journey had made everything easier and more natural, the simple inclination you have even just to hold her properly something you couldn’t have ever imagined.

“come here,” you mumble softly, yunho and mingi moving closer to the bed to get a good look at her.

and as far as babies go, though they think they might be a little biased, they have to imagine she’s the prettiest one they’d ever seen. a head full of hair already and eyes gazing up at them curiously, alert and calm and making them coo quietly at her.

“are we allowed to hold her?” yunho asks.

but before he gets the chance, five bodies barreling through the door with the nurse’s “wait, two at a time please!” distract all of you, the rest of the boys rushing through to get a look at you and the baby.

“let us see, let us see!”

“i can’t believe it’s a girl.”

“wait.... don’t tell me they’re the godparents.”

if you thought the bickering that went on after the boys found out about who you chose as god parents was bad, you weren’t nearly prepared enough for your first month as a mother.

your once peaceful and quiet apartment had quickly turned into chaos. it was the 7th night in a row you were awoken by your little girl’s screams and you weren’t sure if you could take much more of it.

the first week was strangely blissful, you and yeosang taking shifts to feed her or check on her in the middle of the night.

“mom, i’m telling you, everything is strangely.... really good?” you said on the phone foolishly, going on and on about how easy your baby was.

how feeding her always went smoothly, how she basically slept through the night unless one small cry echoed through the baby monitor.

how you and yeosang loved just sitting around the house and watching her sleep or look up at you two curiously.

how you couldn’t believe you’d gotten so lucky to have, both, an understanding boyfriend and well-behaved infant.

but that all quickly changed one night, a summer thunderstorm you’re almost positively traumatized your daughter to the point of tarnishing her near-perfect sleep schedule.

now she cried on the hour to just be held, feeding her at the normal times but then screaming her head off when you tried to place her back down. you’d fallen asleep in the chair holding her one too many times to count, tired and drained and just wanting to relieve your heavy eyes.

yeosang admired your composure and helped along side the way, waking with you and kneeling down watching you hum softly or rest your eyes; but then you cracked the 7th night and, similar to your pregnancy outbursts, it seemed almost out of nowhere.

it’d been his turn to get up and feed her, the wailing and screaming that’s kept you up for nights silencing just a few moments after it started.

whether it be your own curiosity or your new mother’s protectiveness kicking in, you peeked inside the nursery to see yeosang staring down at your daughter. both of them are completely calm and relaxed in the darkness, only the sound of her soft breathing and yeosang’s gentle hums.

as you lean against the door and watch them, you feel a strange mix of warmth and sadness.

you knew you were right in your assumption that yeosang was gonna be a great dad. he was kind and nurturing and sweet, you saw it in the way he took care of you and the other people in your lives.

and jang-mi from the moment she was in the world loved him, looked to him and was easily soothed by him - you could just tell they were gonna have a great relationship.

but you.

you felt as if you were failing.

the nights you woke to feed her, she typically screamed and cried for what felt like hours. she’d only settle down in your arms when you’d start to hum the same tune as yeosang right now, something you both did during your months of pregnancy.

it felt as if at nights, that with her new fears and rocky sleeping pattern, that in times of crisis, she wanted yeosang.

and a part of you loved that but another part of you couldn’t help but feel powerless. that even after a month of bonding with your baby, smiling and laughing and holding her, after months of carrying her and helping her grow, she didn’t seem to like you.

yeosang caught your gaze and you smiled at him softly, giving him a tired thumbs up before trekking back to bed.

you tried to push down your feelings and felt bad for feeling this way, a knot in your stomach and pain in your chest; it wasn’t about jang-mi and yeosang or you and him as parents as much as it was about you feeling completely incompetent.

you couldn’t even get your own baby to stop crying faster than yeosang; everyone says a mother has a natural tendency to do that so why does it feel like you don’t?

the tears in your eyes are unaware to you until you push your face into your pillow and feel the wetness seeping through. you can only stay there buried in shame and defeat and embarrassment, knowing that while you’re in here crying, your baby is doing fine without you.

yeosang comes in a few moments later, only small whines from his daughter as he placed her body in her crib. she looked up at him and he smiled softly, reaching out to pat the peach fuzz on her head until she fell fast asleep.

the past month has been tiring but worth it, crawling in beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“hopefully she’s good for the night,” he mumbled in your ear, his lips pressing against your head chastely. you only hum in response and at first he thinks it’s just because you’re tired but then he feels how tense you are.

how your shoulders are tight and your face is buried and it causes him to call your name gently.

you’re not surprised that he’s able to tell something’s wrong, rolling over wordlessly and allowing him to see your tear-stained face. it immediately makes his heart sink, lips turning into a frown as he reaches out to dab at the wetness.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asks lowly, voice sweet and tone deep and it only makes you break more.

“you’re... you’re so good with her, yeosang,” you whimper out, his eyebrows pulling together as he wipes at your tears and pulls you closer. “you’re so good with her and she barely cries when you go in there... but when i go in there... i feel like i’m doing a terrible job.”

“what?” yeosang asks, genuine confusion in his voice as he pulls your face to meet his. there’s anxiety and sadness and defeat in your eyes, his hold on you tightening as he shakes his head.

“no, no, baby. you’re doing so good and she loves you,” he reassures gently.

“no i’m not,” you cry out, shaking your head as you feel all the stress and fear and anxiety from this pat month hit you. “i don’t know what the hell i’m doing.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says, a pout on his lips as he looks over your teary face. “we both still don’t know what we’re doing but it’s going well, no? i love you and she loves you.”

“no, it’s not,” you whimper out, burying your face in his shirt and feeling him sigh against you. “and she hates me. she only wants you at night and screams when i go in there. why else would she do that?”

your words are wet and muffled but he’s still able to make each one out, his heart breaking as he gently runs his fingers through your hair.

“every day and night has been different, my love. some days she’s been good and others she’s been cranky. we’re all still adjusting and that’s okay,” he says quietly, reminding himself these exact words in his own fits of panic.

because of course he’s panicking half the time too but he tries to be strong for you. be a rock for you in a way you’ve always been for him.

“you’re doing so good, baby, i promise. she wants you every morning, have you noticed that? i can go in there and pick her up but she cries. she only stops when she sees you walk through.”

“that’s only because she’s hungry,” you mutter, a humorless chuckle leaving yeosang’s mouth as he shakes his head.

“no. because i feed her, too. she just wants to see you in the morning, baby,” he mumbles, holding himself above you so his eyes can roam your face. he presses a kiss on your cheek, then the other, until he’s pressing them all over you and you’re pushing him away playfully.

“you’re doing great, love. we both are and she actually likes us, i think,” he says, flopping back down before pulling you on his chest. similiar to his movements from just moments ago in the nursery, his hand runs through your hair gently and you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

and sure enough, when you wake up, you hear cries coming from the nursery that have you springing up and out of your bedroom. yeosang’s holding jang-mi and he smiles knowingly at you, pressing a kiss to your head he passes her to you and her wails stop.

the next few months, you both became a little more confident in your parenting abilities.

changing diapers was easier and waking up for nightly feedings was like clockwork, falling into a steady routine that consisted of yeosang taking online classes and going to work three times a week.

on the days he was out, one of the five boys would come over and keep you both company - yeosang’s demand that one of them keep his girls busy and happy while he’s out.

jang-mi was a little over six months now, laying on the floor with mingi while you cooked for the three of you. your days were the same at this point but you loved each and every one, cooped up in the apartment as you watched your baby grow and meet all her milestones.

you’d been there for all of them and you prided yourself on that. the first time she smiled at you, the first time she reached out for the toy san had gotten her, the first time she-

“y/n!”

you ran from the stove to the living room at mingi’s loud voice, rushing inside to see your best friend looking down at your child like she’d grown 3 heads.

“what? what happened?” you ask frantically, rushing over to get a good look at her; she’s not crying and you don’t see any blood, those are already two reassuring signs.

“she just said my name!”

and it’s at that you start giggling into your hand, covering your face and shaking your head because “mingi, she just turned six months. she can’t talk yet.”

“but she did! she just did! i swear she said-”

there’s a pounding on your front door before seonghwa, san and wooyoung enter, the three boys not even acknowledging you as they rush over to the baby on the floor.

“hi to you guys too,” you huff, watching the boys crowd around the jang-mi with shouts of “hey, y/n!” a giggle leaves your mouth before you ditch the meal and order pizza instead, calling yeosang to see if he’ll be home soon.

“hey, baby. how it’s going?”

“the boys showed up so i just ordered pizza,” you tell him, watching as jang-mi giggles at san and wooyoung making funny faces at her. “are you gonna be home soon?”

“what, you miss me or something?”

because after all this time you spend together now, more often than not during the week, leaving each other proves to be more difficult. you’d think you two would want a break from each other but him leaving is by far the worst part of your days on monday through wednesday.

“yes,” you admit softly, his deep chuckle causing you to giggle softly.

“i’ll be home soon. probably 30 minutes, just finishing up some stuff. will you be able to last that long?”

you roll your eyes and let out a scoff as you make your way into the living room, insisting to your boyfriend you’ll do just fine before your eyes catch mingi and jang-mi smiling at one another.

“oh. and you’ll be happy to hear that mingi thinks jang-mi’s first word was his name.”

“oh, bullshit,” yeosang snaps, a loud chuckle leaving your mouth that grabs said man’s attention.

“it was! i heard her say it!”

“she doesn’t even like you!” yeosang says loudly through the phone, the image of him screaming in his office making you giggle. you hang up before the two can start to bicker more, sliding your phone onto the table before sinking down onto the couch.

you’re still tired these days but the boys coming over helps, allowing you to relax while also watching jang-mi play and have fun.

you don’t know when or how you doze off with the chaos, you just know that one moment you’re watching seonghwa tickle jang-mi and the next, you’re waking up to yeosang placing a kiss on your lips.

“hey, love,” he mumbles, kneeling down to meet your gaze on the couch. you smile tiredly as you bury yourself into the cushions, pulling him closer to you and mumbling that you missed him.

“i know, baby, i missed you too,” he hums.

because if there’s one thing he noticed throughout parenthood, it’s that, somehow, your relationship has only gotten stronger.

you both have the same fears but also have the same things that make you happy - and that’s each other, your baby, and the headache inducing friends currently talking shit to your child.

“they’re so gross, you’re gonna have a brother soon, mark my words, miss jang-mi.”

“nah, it’ll be another girl, i know it for sure now,” wooyoung says, dabbing at her face full of applesauce. “you’ll be an older sister, little lady.”

“he thought you were a chicken, mi, you really can’t take his word for anything.”

you and yeosang share an amused look before he pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the table before quickly pecking your cheek. he takes jang-mi for a diaper change as you talk and laugh with the boys, everything about your life right now far too perfect.

it was a rough start but they all made it a little easier.

you were lucky to have a great support system, albeit a little insane, that made this transition easy.

there was nothing but love and admiration between all of you, their eyes lighting up every time jang-mi giggles or concern flashing when she stumbles down clumsily.

like when yeosang comes back into the main room without jang-mi fifteen minutes later, they all jump up and demand to know where she is.

“you idiots tired her out, she fell asleep in the middle of a diaper change.”

and with the baby sleeping and the rest of the night to yourselves, you and yeosang are quick to all but kick everyone out of the apartment. there’s loud protests and mock hurt from the boys but they know deep down, you two rarely get a minute to yourselves these days.

mingi gives you a parting wink and you roll your eyes, waving goodbye to the boy before yeosang closes the door. he turns to see you cleaning up the table and quickly stops you, tugging you by the waist before promptly throwing you down on the couch.

you land with a giggle as his body covers yours, lips meeting yours in a kiss that quickly has your legs wrapping around his waist.

it’s been a while since you two were able to do something as simple as make out, feel him under you as you straddle his lap or suppress your moans as his kisses down your neck.

but right now, something as silly as kissing and giggling and roaming hands on the couch feels exciting. it feels the same way it did in the pool house all those years ago, fresh and fun and exciting.

full of a passion that you hoped even then would never burn out.

and not even now with a baby has it. not even with a real ‘adult’ life have you two ever felt as if that connection was gone.

“i love you, you know that?” he mumbles into your skin, your cheeks warming and stomach fluttering as you look up at him. there’s a soft pink glow to them that makes him smile fondly, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

you can only nod shyly, your own softly spoken “i love you, too,” mumbled into the living room.

the sky is an array of pink and orange, the sun just about to set before darkness paints the windows of your apartment.

it’ll be a night for movies, snacks and resting your head on his lap, his hands playing with your before one of two things happens: jang-mi wakes up and you bring her out or you fall asleep and yeosang carries you into bed for the night.

the latter had seemed to happen a few hours later because one minute, your head’s resting on yeosang under a blanket and the next, you’re placed down on your soft, cold bed.

you let out a tired whine and yeosang smiles down at you, mumbling that you fell asleep before quickly joining you; it’s wednesday which means yeosang’s home for the next four days, your smile widening at that reminder before you move yourself closer to him.

his days off now don’t mean you can sleep in but instead, wake together. make breakfast for each other while watching your child giggle and smile in her high chair.

you used to go to the park on the days it wasn’t too cold but now with winter approaching, you’re usually cozied up in your house with the fire place burning and a cartoon on.

switching between giving attention to each other and jang-mi, who promptly wakes you both up at 5:30 in the morning.

you insist that yeosang sleeps in more, pushing him back down numerous times before he pins you to the bed and demands for you to go back to bed; a pout covers your lips as you shake your head but it’s like your tired eyes don’t get the memo.

“you worked for the past three days, you need to rest,” you whine tiredly, his eyes rolling because he’s positive sitting behind a desk and talking with his coworkers is a lot easier than taking care of a baby.

“i’m well rested, thank you, love,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling back. “mi will have to settle for her dad today.”

the two and a half hours of sleep were great but when you woke up and saw pancakes ready for you and yeosang and jang-mi laying together on the couch, you could’ve burst into tears on the spot.

he was talking softly to her, singing her name in a little tune before you heard his deep chuckle.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, both, his and jang-mi’s smiles brightening at the sound of your voice. she immediately opens her arms up for you and you take her happily, pressing a kiss to her head before looking at your boyfriend.

the scent of pancakes is more prominent in the living room, looking over to see a plate of pancakes sitting atop the stove.

“thank you for breakfast,” you say softly, the smell filling the apartment making your stomach growl.

“thank you for finally listening to me and sleeping in.”

you roll your eyes before bringing your food over to the table, sitting on the floor as you watch jang-mi babble and play with her toys next to you.

she’s been babbling for the past few weeks now so when you hear her quiet, little “gigigi,” you don’t think much of it; but then when yeosang bursts out laughing again, you have to look to him with your mouth stuffed full of pancakes.

“what?”

“do you think that’s why mingi thought she was saying his name?”

a loud laugh bubbles out of your mouth causing jang-mi to jump before joining along, her own giggles and your reaction causing yeosang to snort into his hand.

he’s quick to whip out his phone and record her, her smile and giggles quickly shifting when she rolls on her back and starts to play with her toes.

and when mingi watches the video yeosang sends him a few moments later, he can’t help but gleefully send back that not only does his own child like him more, he said his name first.

it was a nosy, crotchety old woman at the food store that sparked the conversation of marriage between you and yeosang.

you two were shopping for jang-mi’s first birthday tomorrow, her smiley and giggling form in the front of the cart, when an older woman commented on how beautiful she was.

“thank you,” you smiled politely, you and yeosang sharing that same, warm look any time someone compliments your child.

“you must’ve been a young bride, dear, you look like a baby too,” she chuckled, a smirk on yeosang’s lips as you let out a forced, almost strangled laugh.

and it’s then the woman’s eyes move down your body to your ringless left hand, a look of judgment crossing her face quicker than you can believe.

“oh... or not a bride, that’s....”

“none of your business, now is it lady?” yeosang says, his tone just as deceptively kind as hers even with the bite in it.

she walks off with a huff and dirty look thrown your way, a smirk on your face before you push him down the cereal aisle.

it bothered you a little bit when you first found about jang-mi, getting pregnant and not being married, but those feelings quickly went away when you thought about how silly that was.

marriage is something that’s different for everyone and for you and yeosang, even with a baby, it’s not something you inherently need. you already live together and live your life as a married couple - all that’s left to do is blow money on the ceremony and go away to a tropical island.

yeosang can’t help but be a little bothered by the woman’s words throughout the day, though probably because they were directed toward you, but he noticed you weren’t upset at all about it.

you carried on in the store and at the house like normal, setting up decorations and planning the meals while he put jang-mi to bed by wrapping her in her birthday onesie.

“hey, baby,” you hear him say, turning from your spot at the stove.

he presses your back against it and you smile into the kiss, tilting your head coyly when you pull away. your eyes roam his face because you could tell that woman’s comment irritated him, you just weren’t sure why.

“are you okay?”

“mhm,” he hums lowly, his hands reaching up to run through your hair. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“i don’t know...” you mumble quietly, a smirk pulling at your lips before you bring your hand next to your face to wiggle your fingers. “maybe because we’re sinners who aren’t married.”

a snort leaves yeosang’s mouth as he shakes his head, pulling you by the waist in typical fashion to bring you over to the couch. you two plop down as you get comfy on him, resting your head on his shoulder and basking in his comfort and warmth.

you’re not sure how long you sit in a comfortable silence for, you just know that everything is calm and quiet and it’s such a contrast to this time last year. when things were chaotic and you felt like you wouldn’t be able to handle motherhood.

when you weren’t sure how you and yeosang would be, if the dynamic and household was gonna be so different that it ended up breaking you guys down as a couple.

and while things changed, it seemed to be for the better. it only made you two more happy and more secure, wedding band and your official last name as kang aside.

“i don’t mind not being married,” you assure him quietly, because you know that’s the elephant in the room right now.

“i don’t... want us to get married because we had a kid. i want us to get married when the time feels right. maybe when we’re both actually out of school or something,” you chuckle out, remembering when that was your original plan for popping out a kid.

yeosang feels a weight lift off his shoulder as he looks over at you, unsurprised in the slightest that you not only knew what was wrong, but that you were able to calm him down.

assure him in a way that made him know you guys always seem to be on the same page when you effectively communicate about things.

“i feel the same way,” he says to you, tightening his hold on you before pressing a kiss to your head. “even though if you wanted... i’d go out and-”

“buy a ring right now,” you tease, shimming over until you’re sitting on his lap. you twirl your fingers through his hair. “i think you’re just eager to buy the wedding ring.”

“duh, it’s gonna be flashy as fuck.”

your face pulls into one of disgust and he can’t help but laugh, knowing on more than one occasion he’s thought about what kind of wedding ring you’d want.

“i’d kill you,” you mumble, the last of your sentence getting cut off when he slams his lips on yours.

“shut up,” he mumbles back, you giggling against his mouth before you move your hips over his teasingly.

your clothes become littered on the living room floor before your naked body runs into the bedroom to grab a condom, the promise that you screamed through labor every bit true as you roll the latex over yeosang.

“are you ever gonna trust birth control again? i miss feeling your warm, tight pus-”

you sink down on him and chuckle when he lets out a moan, rolling your eyes and riding him on the couch with the reassurance that, a month later, you won’t be needing to get another pregnancy test just yet.

“no, no! say wooo-young!”

“gi....gi.”

“woooo-young.”

“gi.....gi.”

“wooyoung.”

“gigi.”

everyone around the table snorts at the look jang-mi throws her uncle, her sweet little voice just as stern and face just as dumbfounded.

“i told you guys, i’m her favorite,” mingi boasts, taking jang-mi from her seat and smiling when she clings on to him.

her first birthday consisted of cake, bickering and pink decorations placed throughout the apartment. her pile of toys in the living room and nursery doubled from the amount of gifts today alone, a giant dollhouse taking up a good portion of her room now.

it’s where she’s currently dragging mingi and, begrudgingly, wooyoung off to, showing them all her dolls and cars that they’ve gifted her throughout the first year of her life.

you and yeosang watch her walk off, the two boys crouched and awkwardly walking like crabs so they’re down to her level. you both share a smile before yeosang pecks your cheek, cleaning up the leftover cake and plates while you share a smile with yunho.

“can you guys adopt a baby?”

you’ve never seen yunho’s face turn a brighter shade of red in your life, his hand reaching out to smack your arm lightly.

“are you crazy?”

“oh c’mon,” you whine, a playful smile on your face as you poke his stomach with both pointer fingers. “isn’t it sweet watching mingi with a baby? he’s barely grouchy anymore.”

“maybe around her,” he scoffs, your eyes rolling because you know mingi isn’t as happy and pleasant around anyone as much as he is his fiancé - though next month, you’ll be able to say husband.

it was quickly planned but the two decided to have a summer wedding, july 21st with none other than jang-mi as the flower girl. her dress is yellow and has been hung on her door for weeks, excitement rushing through her every time she sees it.

“okay well then after the wedding, of course,” you wink, his eyes rolling; but you also don’t miss the shy smile and warm blush on his cheeks, knowing very well those two would create the best home for a child.

yunho thinks maybe they would too, watching how quickly and naturally mingi surprisingly is with children.

yeosang plops down next to guys and chastises you for bringing it up again, knowing from the look on yunho’s face you were probably begging him to adopt a cousin for jang-mi.

“oh c’mon, but wouldn’t it be cute?” you say, smiling up at yeosang in a way that causes him to tap your nose lightly.

“it would be,” he mumbles, before pulling you closer to him. his lips ghost over your ear and it’s probably far too intimate a move with all your friends here but he does it anyway, having no regard or care in the world.

“or she could just... get another sibling.”

you narrow your eyes and smack his arm lightly, reminding yourself to stack up on more condoms when you go to the store tomorrow.

“yeah, right. not for another year, yeosang, i’m serious.”

a smirk crosses his face as he nods his head, pecking your lips lightly before watching your daughter run clumsily to him.

he scoops her up as her giggle rings through the air, his lips smacking loud kisses on her cheeks as she squeals loudly; and it’s upon seeing that you don’t think you’d mind having another baby again.

because planned or not, confident in your parenting abilities or not, you know you and your little family are always gonna be okay.

jang-mi reaches out for you and you immediately rise to your feet, fixing the tiny ponytail atop her head right before her and yeosang place simultaneous pecks on your cheeks.

“cuteeee!” wooyoung squeals, looking over at you before squeezing past and poking jang-mi in the arm lightly. “now tell me, little lady, who’s your favorite? mommy or daddy?”

she narrows her eyes at the man like he asked her something unholy, looking between you and yeosang before throwing her arms around both of you. you share a small giggle and place a peck on her head, your eyes catching yeosang’s just as he smiles back at you.

“both. i love mommy and daddy,” she says, her squeaky little voice causing your smile to widen.

“and gigi,” she quickly adds, a laugh bubbling out of you when everyone, including yeosang, let out groans and smack the favorite uncle in the arm.

complete

tag list: @mirror-juliet @toffee-hwa @valhoez @miatsubaki23 @mydaintydaisy @treasurehwa @markleeyeosang

#now for those of you upset seonghwa doesn't have a baby #perhaps....stayed tuned #aha #even tho some of u seem to hate children #kdscksksd #yeosang #yeosang fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #yeosang scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #yeosang imagines

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fangirl-everythang · 3 years

Text

Happy Father's Day

Summary: (1/3) Y/n hasn't told Harry that she is pregnant yet, however, when the day comes around she finds out he's cheating.

Warning: Swearing, Taylor Swift Bashing (I love Taylor don't get me wrong, it's just for the story's sake.)

Word Count: 1492

It's been 5 weeks since I found out I was pregnant. I wanted to tell Harry the moment I found out. I scheduled a doctor's appointment to confirm it because you can't really trust generic pregnancy. But when the doctor confirmed it, I had no idea how to respond.

Hiding this from him has been the hardest thing I've ever done. Harry and I have been together for almost five years now. We met at his twenty-second birthday party in New York, I was twenty. He was pretty upset that he still had to tour for his birthday, but he said it was great making a new friend. Next thing you know we went public after two and moved in together for our third year. I'm so in love with him, but our careers are taking off, a baby would just interfere with all of it however Harry has always wanted children. He'd make such a great dad too, I can only imagine what our family will look like. But these thoughts often consume me, what if he doesn't want this?

I thought Father's Day would be the best day to tell him, you know like a surprise, and what a better time unless of course, he doesn't want our child. Our parents are coming over because of course, we have gifts and brunch so it's like three for one.

I've been distant from him recently, he's so concerned about me he thinks something is terribly wrong with my morning sickness and all. I figured I'd tell him with a gift which is a wooden base with yarn woven letters made of nails that spells 'dad' with the first ultrasound underneath, there's a card too! I'm so excited to finally start a family with Harry, I just hope he feels the same way. I have mugs for each of our dads that say, 'soon to be grandfather'. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. Opening the front door, I place the keys on the table next to me and walk the bags to the living room. That's funny Harry would've greeted me by now? He's probably asleep.

Setting up for later, I bring the balloons over realizing the tablecloths are upstairs. I work my way up the steps. These are gonna be a hassle with an extra 30-40 pounds on me. The closer I get to the top, I hear a light moan.

"I love y/n, she can't know about this" Harry's voice spoke.

Tiptoeing to peak into our bedroom I see my beloved boyfriend, father of my child shirtless kissing a pant-less Taylor Swift. Wow. Just my, fucking luck. Of course, he would! I mean what was I thinking.

"Of course not, my reputation is already bad" she breathes, cupping the side of his face.

I just watch him continue to kiss her after leaning into her touch. Debating whether to go in there, I feel frozen in my steps.

"This doesn't feel right" his deep voice sighs. No shit.

"She doesn't even care about you Harry, isn't that what you told me?" She says sweetly, such a snake.

He sighs and flips them, the scene before me, causes tears to come to my eyes. Opening the door making my presence known Harry turns to me with wide eyes while Taylor scrambles to find her pants and shirt.

"Y/n it's not-"

"I don't want to hear it" I say to him. Irritation and disgust line my voice. Grabbing the table covers I go back downstairs. I have what I need. After looking at my presentation admiring the work I've done. Harry and Taylor both come downstairs. His eyes red and puffy. I swear the tears make his eyes appear more beautiful, I hope my child has his eyes at least.

Astounded by my quiet stature he sits next to me and I stiffen. I'm just quiet because it's keeping me from crying. Taylor stares blankly at the floor.

"Why the fuck are you still here? Leave." I spit at her.

Oh, how I wish I could drink.

The doorbell rings alarming Taylor. I just walk her to the door and invite our parents in "Thank you Taylor" I say sincerely seeing her nod and pull off fast in her car. Tramp.

"What's that about?" Anne ask,

" New music" she smiles and comes in with everyone trailing her steps.

"Harry what's wrong love?" she asks wiping his tears.

"Nothing just allergies mum" she pats his back and sits at the table.

"Five years, I cannot believe it, Harry it's the longest you've had!" Rob states. "And the fans love you Y/n" Anne adds lightly patting my shoulder. "Our little girls all grown up" y/m/n wipes a fake tear from her eye. Everyone laughs. Thank god Harry is next to me so I don't have to look at him. He places his hand in my lap, but I push it off, going unnoticed by the crowd around us.

"Gift time!" I exclaim as he tries again. Placing each one down in-front of them, they all look up slightly confused.

"What's this?" Y/d/n ask.

"Open them, Haz just wait a few seconds after" they all agree. Rob opening his first then y/d/n they look at me then Harry, our moms looks match Harry's as he unwraps his gift. Stunned he looks at me with tears in his eyes. "Y-you're pregnant?"

"Yeah, surprise." Our parents run up to hug us.

"It's about time, I'm getting old over here!" Y/m/n shouts. Once they leave excitedly picking out baby names. I refuse to look at Harry. I make my way upstairs and begin packing some clothing.

"W-what are you doing?" Harry ask quietly.

"What does it look like Harry?" I say pushing past him going to the bathroom and grabbing some necessities. He just leans on the door frame watching me, still refusing to look at him. At first, I cared but I've made up my mind.

"How far along are we?"

"I'm almost 6 weeks but that doesn't matter" trying to walk past him he just grabs my arm and pulls me into him.

"I love you so much," he cries into my neck. I just stand there, motionless "I'm such a fuck up. Please don't leave me. I want to be here for you, for our baby. Y/n please." His hot tears continue to stream onto my shirt leaving a wet patch.

I soon give in rubbing his back gently. "Calm down Harry," I whisper into his ear as his sobs get louder "Breathe, okay."

Sitting on the closest surface near me, today has been long; I'm tired and pregnant give me a break. He stands between my legs looking down at me. I love him I do, and I want the best for our child, but this hurt. The one request I've had is he doesn't cheat, and he did. I stare at my feet avoiding him at all cost until his hand lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I'm not asking you to forgive me, but I am asking you to stay." He states softly placing a random string of hair behind my ear. He slowly starts leaning in I don't stop him. Suddenly feeling nauseous at the thought of him kissing Taylor, I shove him away from me crying.

He tries to hold me, but I just shake my head frantically, "Harry No," I cry. "How could you!? In our house Harry!" I shout. Continuing to pack my things making myself mad at the thought of his hands all over his ex.

"Y/n I'm so sorry please just stop," clothes I need clothes, just for a few days I'll buy more later. Walking into the bedroom opening my laptop ignoring his pleads. I book a hotel for two weeks, until I situate what is happening. He just sits on the bed trying to see what I'm doing but I soon erased my browser history and factory restarted the device so he can't track anything. Let's combine our accounts so our calendars sync. A swell idea. Wiping my tears, I pack outfits for each day that wouldn't show anything to the paparazzi. He sits there with his head in his hand's sharp intakes of breath audible.

As I approach him, he assumes I'm going to touch him, but I simply go into the drawer next to him. Cringing at the thought of him and Taylor who were here not over 6 hours ago, Grasping the more recent black and white photos gently until I get a photo album for them. Contemplating for a minute looking at the small framed version of my uterus I carefully tear one off handing to him before I seal my bag and walk away, taking my keys and loading my stuff in the backseat.

Looking through the rearview mirror, saying a silent goodbye to the home I hoped to raise my child. It'll get better- I hope.

A/n: Hello Loves! This is also a piece I had on wattpad. Most of these posts today will be Wattpad uploads. I'm trying to see which platform suits my work best. Bear with me while I figure Tumblr out. Masterlist coming soon!

xoxo Janelle

#harry #harry styles #harryx reader #y/n #harry styles and y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #writing #imagine #oneshot #smut #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb

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suganovakawa · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , platonic hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : romance , angst

WARNINGS : cursing , amnesia , implied car accident

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗 .

tooru’s karma hit him harder than expected . . . not to worry , because hajime is here to help you through everything .

word count : 1.3k

saudade masterlist.

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀a blur of brunette whirred past hajime's eyes as he walked to your room, his hands wringing in his pockets nervously. this was the same routine he'd been following for the past two weeks - ever since you were first admitted into the hospital in your comatose state. the sight of you unconscious in the middle of the road was a vision he never wanted to see nor experience ever again; he'd do everything in his power to prevent it from happening again.

⠀everything was in a blur as he ran to your side after the accident, the car that committed the hit-and-run already long gone. his hands shook uncontrollably as he picked you up in his arms effortlessly, watching your eyes flutter in an effort to stay conscious.

⠀"y/n," he breathed shakily, his bridal style around you clenching as his steps moved faster and faster into a slow sprint, his shoulder checking into the doors leading into the school you had just exited moments ago. "stay with me. you're going to be alright. you're a strong, girl, you hear me?"

⠀"i-iwaizumi," was the only reply you had enough strength to mutter.

⠀none of the third years expected to see you, bleeding and half unconscious in iwaizumi's arms.

⠀"hanamaki," the ace barked, "call the ambulance. now."

⠀there were no further words shared as the light-haired male nodded hastily, his hands fumbling to find his cellphone, running out of aoba johsai to call for the hospital quickly.

⠀"matsukawa, take y/n's things and bring them to her home. tell her family what happened, and that we've already got an ambulance on the way. you remember where she lives, right?" iwa's jaw clenched as mattsun snapped out of his trance, still trying to grasp the sight before him. "right, matsukawa?"

⠀"y-yeah, iwaizumi. i'll go." he swallowed a nervous lump as he lumped all of your belongings into your bag. "y/n, please be okay." he could only look upon your weakened figure with eyes of pity, before taking his leave in a rush.

⠀"i... iwaizumi...?"

⠀"you." he had forgotten the captain's presence in the gym until his voice filled his ears, anger and resentment boiling his blood at high temperatures. his green eyes steeled over as he glared at your boyfriend, whose face had gone white at the sight of you in his arms. tooru reached a hand towards you, only to back up and flinch at the sound of hajime yelling at him.

⠀"you wanna know what the fuck i want you to do, oikawa?"

⠀hanamaki ran to the gym doors through iwa's peripheral vision, which meant the ambulance was coming soon. he turned to face his fellow third year once more, watching the fear in tooru's eyes wash over him like a disease.

⠀"don't you ever fucking step near y/n again."

⠀he stopped in surprise at the sight of your eyes blankly staring straight at the doorway he stood under; he noticed the grip your fingers held on your hospital bed sheets. too many words caught under his tongue as your look of unplaced fear turned to him. he didn't know how to start.

⠀"y/n?" whispered hajime, taking an easy, careful step in your direction. he didn't trust the lack of reaction in your eyes. "are you... alright?"

⠀he stopped in front of your hospital bed and took his hands out of his pockets, relaxing his posture to display peace. he waited for you to respond patiently; your eyes had wandered down to your hands, your monitors, slowly back up to look him in the eye. he wondered why you were taking so long to respond to just a simple question?

⠀"i'm sorry, really... i don't remember a thing."

⠀oh.

⠀that's why.

⠀"i scared the guy before by telling him the truth, i couldn't look at him long enough before he turned around and ran away... i don't want to scare you away, either." hajime pressed his lips together as you struggled to keep steady eye contact. "i don't remember anything, i swear. all i know, from what i heard, is that y/n is me."

⠀iwaizumi blinked at your words, as a way to process such information. he hadn't come to the hospital today and expected to greet you awake - and as a victim of amnesia, nonetheless. he wasn't scared, per se - his fists clenched when he realized you were describing oikawa as the wuss who ran away in his own selfishness. he shouldn't be surprised at this point. nothing was more obvious to hajime that tooru oikawa was a selfish bastard who didn't deserve to have you as his girlfriend.

⠀"hey." he reached forward and placed his hands on yours, his lips pursed as he felt the dryness of your skin on his palms. "you're not scaring me away. don't worry about that other guy, alright? he doesn't matter, if he didn't even care enough to stay. you've got me. your name is y/n - full name y/n l/n - that's correct. you're a third year at aoba johsai high school. the reason why you're in the hospital is because you were hit by a car."

⠀"that explains the pain i feel in my head..." your hands slowly moved from his, each index finger pressing against each of your temples. "i've had this sharp ringing in my head since i woke up."

⠀"you were hurt pretty badly, and it's a miracle you're in one piece." iwaizumi nodded, watching you press your temples with a quiet hiss from your lips. "i don't know your current medical condition, since i'm not your immediate family." when your eyes met his once more, he smiled. "but i'm really happy you're okay, y/n. even without your memories, you're a tough cookie. you'll get through it."

⠀for the first time today, your fear had dissipated from your body, a sense of comfort radiating from the mysterious boy clad in a school uniform. there were many questions floating in your thoughts, with no answers or conclusions to your problems. but watching him smile at you so kindly... you felt safe. white noise suffocated your thoughts, your memories; but with the feeling of someone's support, nothing felt more comforting in this present moment.

⠀"thank you." unsure of how to thank such generosity, you could only suffice with a simple bow of your head, since you couldn't really move much else in the confinement of your bed. "i feel guilty, for not remembering you, or your name. i can only assume we were good friends, right?"

⠀"...friends." the word dripped from hajime's tongue like poison, spitting it out with a bad aftertaste. even so, he covered such bitterness with another soothing grin. "i'd like to also believe we were good friends, great friends even, before your accident." he held a hand out for you. "my name is hajime. hajime iwaizumi. i'm your friend, and fellow third year at aoba johsai."

⠀iwaizumi sighed in relief as he watched you take his hand, and you two shook on it, the confusion in your eyes slowly disappearing with every passing second. "well then, iwaizumi, it's a pleasure to meet you... again."

⠀he pressed his lips firmly at the sound of his family name leaving your mouth, shaking his head subtly as he ruffled your hair gently with a gentle chuckle. "i'm afraid i have to leave soon, i've got a lot of homework to do, and i'm gonna tell the nurses that you were able to recover so quickly. i'll visit you tomorrow, so we'll talk some more tomorrow, alright?"

⠀you nodded. "yes. thank you again, iwaizumi. i'd be so lost without you."

⠀i'd be so lost without you.

⠀pride welled in his chest like a balloon, his hands sheepishly making way back into his dark beige pockets. damn right, he was going to be the one there for you, since a certain someone was too cowardly to do it himself. iwaizumi was going to preserve your smile, the happiness a person as beautiful as yourself was completely entitled to.

⠀hajime iwaizumi was going to be the one to give you the second chance you deserve. and he'll be damned if he ever let tooru oikawa dare to step foot near you and hurt you again.

⠀"don't mention it, y/n. ah, by the way, you can just call me hajime."

a / n : AND BEHOLD , THE LOVE RIVAL . i probably made it really obvious but ye ye , here we go ! the drama will now get crazier from here . now that school is out for the summer , def expect more updates more often ! thanks for reading , it means a lot to me 🥺

saudade taglist : @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-alot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne

taglist closed !

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

Text

I’m Ready

Summary: “I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.”

Picks up right where the show left off. Not technically a fix-it, as I didn’t change anything, but I promise it gets better.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of (canon) child abuse and neglect, mentions of past trauma, working through trauma, denial, bit of pining (but, like, in a denial sort of way), some fluff, some angst (but not as much as there is fluff)

Author’s Note: So many thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock for endless suggestions, fixes, and beautiful images (header AND dividers!!!). Thanks to all my friends for cheering me on, especially @thoughtslikeaminefield ; I probably wouldn’t have kept going with the story without you.

This is my first Destiel story and my first time posting in a while. Please be kind.

Word Count: 7704

In case you missed it: ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

Dean isn’t sure how long he’s been in heaven, at least not by heaven’s timeframe. Probably years, maybe even a couple of decades. He doesn’t age in heaven, and time works differently, running fast and stretching slow.

For Dean, heaven is a chance to rest, catch up with his massive found family, and just breathe for the first time since he was a kid. No worrying about Sam, no waiting for the next monster to pop out, no prepping for the next apocalypse.

Nothing like heaven to give a guy time to kick his boots off and just relax.

Unfortunately, relaxing has never come easy to Dean. Sure, he can go through the motions (binge watching horror movies, binge drinking, hell, just bingeing in general), but relaxing is an entirely different matter.

Relaxing means letting his guard down. It means giving up his hypervigilance. It means sleeping hard and staying asleep until he wakes naturally and unassisted by attackers. It means spending long moments reminding himself the monster at the end of the book is really gone.

Sam is safe. Everyone he’s ever loved is safe and close, where he can reach them.

Almost everyone.

...

Jake Walker is born on the ninth of July at twenty-one seconds past 9:14 AM. His mother Samantha is exhausted after a two-weeks-early delivery, but both she and the baby are strong and steady. Her wife didn’t faint, none of the medical team ever sounded the least worried, and she heard her son’s first shocked wail as he came into the world. Exhausted, but definitely good.

His mom Betty, on the other hand, is an absolute wreck. She’s been anxious the entire pregnancy, despite good news from the doctor at every visit, and she is terrified that the unexpected early arrival of their son means her worst fears are just beginning.

Betty takes slow, calming breaths, focusing on not clamping down too hard on Sam’s hand. She has to stay strong, calm, for her new family. She has to keep her head on straight, in case—in case —

“Your son is absolutely fine, seems he just had a real particular time he wanted to arrive. Here he is.”

Betty opens her eyes to find a delivery nurse beaming at her, proffering a small, swaddled bundle.

“Never seen such a calm baby. Here, he’s been waiting for you.”

Betty looks down into the startlingly clear, mossy green eyes gazing up at her from the squashed, serene little face, and she feels something click into place in the middle of her chest. Samantha leans her head back against her pillow, letting out a long slow breath as she smiles, and Betty’s pulse slowly finds its way back to something like normal.

“We’ve been waiting for you, too, big guy.”

...

Trauma doesn’t heal in a day, not even in heaven. All the shit Dean remembers — all the shit he tried to forget — everything he ever managed to suppress — drives him from his bed at night, leaving him sleepless on his front porch, staring blankly into the night, or tinkering on Baby in the garage, digging into the perfect engine, determined to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts.

Dean has never been an idiot, no matter how many times he played the fool in life. The people he and Sam couldn’t save, the people he let down, none of those deaths are on him. Dean isn’t responsible for the pain and suffering, but he’s haunted by it all the same.

The problem is, haunts don’t go away on their own. Every hunter knows that.

It’s not that he wants forgiveness; how can he be forgiven for something he isn’t responsible for? He needs to see those people, though, see that they’re okay and at peace. He has to make sure everyone is where they should be, safe and at least content. And even if he ultimately isn’t their killer, didn’t want their deaths, would have done anything to prevent them, he still needs them to know...to know everything.

He needs absolution.

And if the person who needs to hear those things the most is MIA, well, they’ve got a history of not saying a lot of things face to face. There’s always prayer, right?

Dean starts by visiting a couple of people he hadn’t been able to save along the way, feeling strangely like someone following a twelve step program. Objectively, (ie, according to the people he talks to), he’s got nothing to apologize for. He did his best; he made tough decisions in situations forced upon him. They don’t blame him in the least, and most are truly and obviously thankful for his intervention.

Their words don’t make much of a dent in the mountain of guilt Dean carries on his shoulders, but it’s a start.

Once or twice, Dean finds himself looking up at the sky, so far from empty, opening his mouth to call out — an action so common on earth it nearly became reflex —but he stops himself both times. He’s not ready for that conversation.

But he needs to talk to someone closer to him, a deeper connection than the monster victims he’s been visiting.

He’s restless, needs to move a little, needs to talk to…

Someone. He needs to talk to someone. But he can’t. Hell, he can’t even say the name.

Pacing the garage turns to a wandering ramble down the road, past Sam and his family’s house, past Mom and Dad’s house (there’s a conversation or fifty that he’s not ready for), until he finds himself in front of what can only be described as a hobbit hole. He shakes his head, not for the first time, the corner of his mouth tilted up as he knocks on the circular front door.

He’s greeted by bright red hair, a surprisingly crushing hug, and one of the brightest smiles Dean has ever seen.

“Hey, Charlie. Can we, uh...You up for a walk? I was hopin we could talk for a while.”

...

Jake grows quickly and steadily, always near the top of all his growth charts but never alarmingly so. He’s bright, quick to anger and quick to laugh, and fiercely loving. He is both his mothers’ boy, always up for a cuddle or a wrestle, and he loves to build block towers and demolish them with equal abandon.

He makes his displeasure with vegetables known early on. On this particular morning, he introduces his strained peas to the kitchen wall with surprising velocity. Betty knows better than to encourage this attitude, so she hides her smile behind calm, controlled admonition as she offers another spoonful.

Jake looks her straight in the eyes, his smile dazzling and laughter bright, and she knows she hasn’t fooled him one bit. She sighs and lets her own smile match his. He won her over the day he was born; there’s not much point trying to fight it now.

“Come on, babe, eat your peas and we’ll see about some of those stewed apples left over from Mommy’s pie filling. Deal?”

She scrunches her nose and wiggles her eyebrows. Jake’s little eyes widen at her expression, and he tries to imitate it before dissolving into giggles. Betty takes the opportunity to poke a spoonful of peas into his open mouth.

She’s not spent much time around kids before this, but Betty swears she’s never seen a baby look so resigned and exasperated in real life. But she’s played her trump card. He’s too young for the crust, but a couple of spoonfuls of smashed up fruit (apple is his favorite), and Jake is guaranteed to eat just about anything she presents.

“Pie?” she asks.

Jake smiles and opens his mouth wider.

...

“SURPRISE!!!”

The last time he was shocked this badly, Sam didn’t let him forget that fucking cat for years. Or ever, really. Seems like everyone he ever knew is stuffed into his living room, barely leaving room for the balloon bouquets and a massive… That’s not a cake, it’s…

That’s the most beautiful apple pie Dean has ever seen in his entire life.

Dean is engulfed by arms, hugging and patting and slapping his back (was that a pinch on his ass?), everyone eager to get their turn with him, wishing him a happy birthday, saying they can’t wait until he opens his presents, it’s so good to see him, he’s looking so rested!

He manages to extract himself from the wellwishers, citing parental obligations, and finally makes his way over to Mary, smiling warmly and offering him a knife and a plate. His eyes flick anxious from his mom to the golden brown circle of perfection before him, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Mary’s smile widens.

“I didn’t lay a hand on it except to take it out of the box. Happy Birthday, Dean.”

Six plates of pie later, Dean reclines on his couch, letting the relaxed atmosphere of the party sink into his bones. The excitement and crowd of early have begun to wind down, leaving a double handful of family, both blood and found, all telling the most embarrassing, terrible Dean stories they can think of.

It’s possible Dean’s never laughed this hard in his entire life.

He heaves a deep sigh of contentment and props his feet ponderously on the coffee table, draping an arm across the back of the couch and surveying the room.

Donna, one of the apparent party conspirators, tosses him a sparkling grin over her shoulder before turning back to a rather animated conversation with Charlie about the length of Dean’s wig at the LARPing battle. Sam and Kevin are recounting Dean’s worst cooking disasters to Garth’s wife, and Bobby is entertaining Mary with Dean’s disastrous attempt to flirt with the pizza delivery girl who delivered to Bobby’s house most weekends when Sam and Dean would stay with him.

If Dean had to describe one perfect day, this would be just about it, down to the flakiness of the pie crust and the amazing collection of horror movies and original vinyls he’s been gifted. Almost every single person he could possibly want present is there, and since he isn’t dwelling on absence today, Dean decides to push his wandering thoughts out of his head and just soak it all in.

Every muscle in his body hums contentedly, and Dean feels strangely warm and peaceful, but excited, all at once. It’s weird, just sitting here and enjoying the moment, not worrying about the next minute or hour or day or even year. He’s full of pie, he’s got great tunes to look forward to, and there’s nothing to worry about.

He’s happy.

Naturally, that’s when the panic sets in. This won’t last; it never does. Happiness can’t last. He learned that a long time ago.

Sure, it’s heaven, but he doesn’t deserve to be here, so something is going to spoil it for him, for everyone. Probably Dean himself, he thinks as his eyes dart from his mom to his dad. Dean always seems to find a way to fuck things up, couldn’t take care of Sam, couldn’t keep himself alive, couldn’t even keep the Empty from—

“Hey, birthday boy.” Jody’s voice somehow reaches Dean through his darkening thoughts, and he comes back to himself in stages, focusing on the warmth of her hands on his shoulders. She stands behind the couch, leaning down to squeeze his shoulders. “Wanna get some air?”

He nods blindly and climbs numbly to his feet. Jody guides him efficiently out the door and points Dean in an arbitrary direction. They walk for what could be moments or hours as Dean plows through the morass in his mind.

“I get it,” Jody finally says.

Dean glances sharply at her.

“I still have random panic attacks sometimes, wondering if Alex is safe at the hospital, if this is going to be the hunt that gets Claire.” Her eyes are fixed on some point in the distance, and he gets the feeling she’s deliberately not meeting his eyes. “I check on Owen every thirty minutes on my bad nights, and I have to lay hands and eyes on Sean to convince myself he’s really there before I can calm down. It always takes me a minute or sixty to make myself remember where we are, where everyone is, and that there isn’t some big or even small bad waiting around the corner or under the bed.”

Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets, stuffing down his automatic reassurances. The first half of his life was spent avoiding conversations like this, and it took him a long time to unlearn the knee-jerk reaction to brush off people’s concerns with some variation of “Everything’s fine.”

Jody, with an awareness born of decades of hunting and parenthood, senses his discomfort. She slows her steps and catches Dean’s elbow, turning him gently to face her.

“That feeling in your gut when the happiness comes, the panic, that knowledge deep, deep down that everything good is bound to turn to shit.” Jody reaches out and wipes a trickle of moisture from Dean’s face.

It’s not raining, he thinks, frowning. Where the hell did that come from?

“You're going to unlearn it. You’re the toughest bastard I’ve ever met, Dean, and you've been through literal hell. If anyone has earned their happiness up here, it’s you. You’re allowed to be happy, and someday you’ll know it.”

Dean would love to reply right now, to contradict Jody. He’d love to remind her of all the bad calls he made, of all the torturing he did in hell, of all the lies he told...

But this knot in his throat is choking him. And still Jody persists.

“I know how goddamned stubborn you are, but you’re not stupid either. We have nothing to forgive you for. Maybe once you’ve talked to everyone on your list, you’ll see that, too. But in the meantime, take a deep breath, give me a hug, and at least say in your head that you’re allowed to enjoy yourself at your own damned birthday party, even if you can’t admit it out loud.”

And if the damp patch on Jody’s shoulder bothers her as they stroll back to Dean’s house to grab a couple of beers, at least she’s tactful enough to not mention it.

...

Jake takes care of his family. He’s a fairly serious, empathetic toddler, quick to kiss other’s ouchies. After receiving his first Elmo bandage, Jake insists on bandaging his stuffed puppy’s tail, his tyrannosaurus rex’s left eye (“He fight with stegosaurus,” Jake solemnly informs Samantha as he presses the adhesive strip in place), and then an old, almost-healed shaving cut on Betty’s left knee.

“Mama better now?” Jake asks, somehow managing to sound strictly professional and absurdly adorable at the same time. He looks up to Betty for approval, and she wonders how she manages to let him touch the ground at all with how much she just wants to hold him all day long.

“Mama so much better now,” she informs him, careful to stay serious. He rewards her with the golden smile that is the highlight of her days before rushing off to find someone else he can fix up.

Both Betty and Samantha marvel in his quickness to share his snacks. They never refuse an offered Cheerio from him, no matter how damp or sticky (though a few of those disappear quickly when Jake’s attention wanders).

The discussion over a first pet is fairly quick and decisive. Everyone agrees the pet must be something fluffy that can be cuddled. Betty vetoes anything smaller than a cantaloupe, citing her clumsiness and tendency to step on things that should never be trod upon. Jake vetoes cats, saying he just doesn’t trust them, and Mommy and Mama share one of their silent conversations before Samantha speaks up.

“A puppy it is, then, Jakey. Let’s go look up some good breeds.”

Their first pet is a rescue named Garth, at Jake’s adamant insistence, though they're still not sure where he learned that name in the first place. Garth is clumsy, awkward, easy-going, and the most spoiled and cared for pet in the neighborhood.

Jake’s little sister Tabitha comes along shortly before his fourth birthday, and he takes to big brotherhood with an authority and self-assurance that delights every stranger the family meets. When she eventually starts walking, Jake is right by her side, guiding each one of her toddling little steps while a beaming Mommy and Mama follow close behind.

No one is even a little surprised when Tabby’s first whole word is “Hake.” She masters the letter j eventually, but continues to refer to his big brother by the name she gave him for most of the rest of their lives. Jake doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

“It was just a matter of time,” Samantha says one night, as she and Betty are getting ready for bed one night not long after Tabby has given Jake his new moniker. “You know what I mean?”

Betty, who has known exactly what Sam means since the day she literally tripped over her future wife at university, smiles and turns down the covers on her side of the bed.

“That’s Jake,” she says. They’ve spent hours, discussing their son’s odd, charming quirks long into the night, offering up phrases like “old soul” and “wise,” and eventually realized nothing they said could ever completely encompass the loving little person they somehow managed to bring into the world.

“That’s Jake,” Sam agrees, and turns her version of Jake’s golden smile on her wife. Mischief sparkles in her eyes, and Betty wonders how she ended up with three people in her life that she absolutely cannot win against.

“Ready to get sweaty, Betty?”

Betty groans but can’t hold back her grin. “You are the absolute worst, and that is exactly why I love you.”

…

Sam manages to shock Dean when he insists on a big family Christmas. His extra years on earth apparently helped the younger Winchester warm to the idea of holidays, finally getting to enjoy them with his son as he never did during his own childhood.

Sam doesn’t have to try very hard to talk everyone into celebrating. Things have been calm and serene, more than a little on the uneventful side, and Dean figures it will add some variety to his afterlife. Something to plan, something to look forward to that won’t be crashed by murderous Elder Gods or various other supernatural entities.

Probably.

Dean secretly loves that feeling of finding the perfect present for someone, something he was never really in a position to do back on earth. He takes a deep breath, proactively reminding himself that this is okay, this is allowed, this is good, that everything is not only okay but actually kind of great, really.

He can be happy. He can. He can do this.

The shade of red Sam’s face turns before he finally dissolves into laughter is a thousand percent worth the degradation of actually gifting someone a signed vinyl copy of Celine Dion’s first solo album.

“It’s perfect, Dean. Thanks, man.” Sam pulls his brother into a hug, and his giant paw slapping Dean in the middle of the back literally knocks the panic right out of him. Deans huffs, at a loss for words, and hugs Sam back perhaps just a smidge too forcefully before letting him go.

“You’ll never top Sapphire Barbie for best Christmas present, but this runs a close second.” Sam shakes his head, still grinning as he reads over the back cover of the album while Mary and John look on, varying levels of confusion and amusement on their faces.

“What’s he talking about, Dean?” John asks. He takes a long drink of his whiskey. “Sapphire Barbie? Some kinda code word or something?”

Sam and Dean glance at each other, their shoulders tensing automatically. For a moment, Dean can actually feel the phantom hunger pains transposed over the current fullness of his belly, and he can see a tiny Sam (still way more hair than necessary), huddled despondent and hungry under a shitty, moth-eaten motel blanket, convinced there would be no Christmas.

“Dean, uh...accidentally got me a Barbie for Christmas one year, it was — a, uh — yeah, he wanted to make sure I got a present, so he grabbed it, and…” Sam trails off.

John huffs a confused laugh, and Dean’s hackles rise at the scoff, so like Sam’s and yet so much more...condescending. John rises from the couch and goes to refill his glass. Sam seems content to let the moment pass, but something in Dean’s gut, something latent and ignored since his heavenly ascension, sparks and smolders bitterly.

“How the hell do you ‘accidentally’ get somebody a Barbie?” John asks, still chuckling, and Dean suddenly realizes he’s real fucking tired of biting his tongue.

“I stole the Barbie. Stole a couple of other things, too. A Christmas tree, some decorations, a baton.”

Mary glances between her sons, confused, before turning to John. “Where were you while this happened?”

A parade of emotions march over John’s face: confusion is followed by slow recognition. Guilt makes a quick appearance only to be chased away by dull, ashamed anger.

Dean can practically see John’s mind flashing through the scenario, recalling more about the hunt than his own sons on that cold, nasty Christmas Eve. He knows the instant his dad reverts to default setting of laying the blame on his eldest son. Dean braces himself automatically, his body viscerally reacting to the familiar storm on his father’s face.

Dean has the fleeting thought that at least his dad is drinking from a glass now; ought to hurt a lot less than being hit with a whole bottle.

“You left your brother to go steal from somebody else’s home on Christmas? After what happened with the shtriga?”

Dean knows true anger, near rage, for the first time in heaven, and the bitter wash of it through him is cutting and all too familiar.

“Pretty stupid thing to do, I know, but I wasn’t even twelve yet, so I wasn’t making the wisest of decisions.”

“Not even twelve?” Mary cuts in. “Sam? Does anybody feel like explaining this to me?”

“What the hell were you thinking, Dean, anything could have—”

But Dean had a lifetime of being plowed under by his dad’s inability to take responsibility, has had way more than enough of shouldering the blame for shit he should never have been left with in the first place.

“I was thinking that somebody should get a seven-year-old something for Christmas, should make sure he has enough to eat. Where were you, Dad? What were you thinking? Because you sure as hell weren’t thinking about us.”

That knot starts up in Dean’s throat again, the muscles tightening against the fear that blossoms in his chest, echoed from decades of training. Sam’s hand finds Dean’s arm, and Dean looks to him. Instead of the caution or reproach he’s expecting, though, all Sam simply nods.

“Say it, Dean.”

Dean stands slowly, facing John Winchester with every bit of strength he’s built, every bit of courage he’s earned from a lifetime of terror, and realizes that the angry, bitter man before him is no more a threat to him anymore than Chuck is. And without looking, he knows Sam stands behind him, solid and resolute.

“I wasn’t even twelve. It was Christmas, and you abandoned us. Yeah, I stole Sam a Barbie doll. You know what I got for Christmas that year? The year before? Every fucking year before that for almost as long as I can remember?”

John opens his mouth, even now unable to admit his faults, but Dean barrels on before his dad can get a word out.

“Not a damn thing from you. Not one damn thing. Not presents, not food, not a warm place to sleep or a word of thanks or approval. Not even a fucking phone call to say Merry Goddamn Christmas.” Dean pauses one last time, and it suddenly feels like he’s towering over the man whose shadow always felt too dark, too large, too suffocating; the man whose respect he used to crave more than food and water.

“What about me, Dad? Huh? What about me?”

Dean doesn’t recall leaving his parents’ house, doesn’t remember driving home, but he finds himself on his own front porch, leaning forward in his rocking chair. He takes in a long, deep breath before scrubbing his hands through hair and leaning against the back of the chair.

A breeze rifles the leaves of a nearby tree, ruffling Dean’s hair. He taps his thumb against the arm of the chair and takes a long moment to breathe in the night air.

Dean lets his thoughts roll around for a while. The stars creep slowly across the black, the crickets chirp, and the breeze continues to tickle through Dean’s mussed hair.

“You and I could write the book on shitty dads, am I right, kid?”

He’s not sure why he decides to talk to Jack. Just nice to have someone to talk to, knowing they’re not going to talk right back.

“Could just cut him out. Dunno how that’d work in heaven.” He thinks a moment, then grins to himself. “Not sure Mom’d let me get away with that. Sam would back me up, though.” Dean grins into the somehow not-empty night. “I would be the guy that brings a family feud into paradise, huh?”

Dean takes in the wilderness around him, the empty house at his back, the extra rocking chair for...a visitor, he supposes. He has learned today that heaven, as perfect as it is, still holds anger and bitterness and loneliness, and he figures that’s to be expected.

“You still did good, kid. You and me, we did good even with our shitty old men in and outta our lives. Glad we cut yours out for good. Guess I’ll figure out how to deal with mine eventually. All I’ve got now is time, anyway.”

Dean pushes up slowly, still surprised at the lack of cricks, pops, and aches that accompanied the action his last couple of years on earth.

“Night, Jack,” he says into the wind. He glances over at the empty rocking chair one last time. “If you see him, tell him —just tell him—”

Dean frowns, shakes his head, and turns his back on the night.

…

Jake’s not a crier, not really. There are inevitable tears that come with bad falls, but Jake sheds tears like it’s a physical reaction that he’s getting out of the way so he can move on.

So when Betty goes to change the sheets in her son’s room, only to find him silently crying on the floor, she panics. Sheets flop forgotten to the side as she drops next to his, reaching instinctively for his still-plump cheeks.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Mama, I’m sorry I scared you,” he sniffles, his eyebrows down low on his small forehead.

Jake has never lied in his entire young life, and Betty is torn because he is obviously upset about something, but his face is full of nothing but truth and confusion.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jakey,” she says, settling on the floor next to him and opening her arms. He instantly climbs into her lap, hooking his own arms around her neck and nuzzling under her chin. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Can you tell me what made you cry?”

“I...I don’t know,” he says, his little voice quiet and heavily confused. “I was playing with Tabby, she was helping me build a tower with my blocks, and then Mommy came to get Tabby for her snack.”

Betty is stumped. Jake has never had any kind of separation anxiety, as far as she can tell. He’s spent nights with both sets of grandparents, even a couple of weekends with aunts, uncles, and cousins, and never shed so much as a single tear.

“You...are you crying because you miss Tabby? She’s right in the next room, baby, you can go with her for snack time, you know that.”

“No, Mama, I —I don’t know why I’m crying. Tabby hugged me, she said she loved me, then she went with Mommy, and I felt...really happy. Like —the happiest ever, and...it was too much happy?”

The last part comes out as a question, and honestly Betty isn’t sure how to answer it.

“Well, baby,” she starts hesitantly, not sure where to lead this particular discussion. “Can you explain what you mean when you say ‘too much happy’?”

He snuggles closer against her chest, his forehead pressing along her jaw. “I dunno. I think...maybe I’m not supposed to be that happy? Is that why the tears came out? Because I got more happy than I’m supposed to get? Was I wrong, Mama?”

Betty breathes slowly, tightening her hold on the little boy in her arms. “You weren’t wrong, Jake. You can be as happy as you want. There’s never too much happy, I promise.”

She feels him shift, and she looks down to meet his clear, green gaze. He studies her carefully, scrutinizing her expression, and she’s reminded why she’s always been so very careful to tell her children the truth, albeit on levels they can understand.

“You pinky promise?”

The proffered pinky is smudged, pudgy, and absolutely perfect. Betty hooks her pinky finger with her son’s, bumping his nose gently with her own.

“Jakey, you have my eternal permission to be as happy as you are capable of feeling. And no one is ever allowed to take that from you. Good?” He nods, and she carefully brushes the tear tracks from his cheeks. “Sometimes feelings are really big, and they’re just a little too big for your body. They have to find a way out, and that’s why the tears come out.”

“Is that why you cry when you watch the kissy movies?” he asks, suddenly smiling. “Your feelings are too big, too?”

“Yup. We’ve got big feelings in this family, Jakey. Better get used to it, kiddo.”

...

More time passes. Dean walks, he talks, he goes through the motions. He heals a little with every conversation, every time he reaches out, and even though some of the wounds feel as fresh as the day he got them, eventually all that’s left are faint scars. He’d never willingly erase the scars, anyway. He earned them, and he’ll be damned if something like a little death and talk therapy could just wipe them away.

Gradually — so gradually Dean doesn’t realize it until Donna makes a comment one night after their regular poker game — Dean learns to not only let his guard down but drop it entirely. He’s shocked to realize the loss of his emotional armor doesn’t even bother him.

Dean works on Baby, drinks with Bobby, teaches Mary how to make an apple pie from scratch, and even manages to have a couple of honest, semi-civil conversations with his father. They don’t exactly reach Andy and Opie levels of father-son bonding, but John does eventually manage to grudgingly admit he fucked up some (a lot). Dean supposes anyone can make progress in heaven if they try hard enough.

He’s talked to everyone he can think of, settled scores, smoothed ruffles, filled himself to bursting with absolution. Dean is so absolved he thinks he might punch the next person who pats him on the back and tells him how much good he’s done for the world.

And still, he comes home every night to that extra rocking chair.

He waits now, waits while he talks with Sam, waits while he walks through the woods, waits while he changes Baby’s oil. He can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. He can feel it around himself, like a suit of armor or a second skin. Nothing terrible, nothing ominous, but something. Which is weird because nothing ever seems to happen in heaven, not really.

Could be he’s just bored, but Dean doesn’t think that’s it. Not entirely.

He talks to Jack nightly now. It’s a habit, something to help Dean talk through and untangle his thoughts into something he can understand. He looks forward to their talks, being able to get his feelings out without being either validated or rebuffed. Just letting some steam off.

He’s done it for so long that he can barely remember the night he started. Dean knows Jack can hear him, but the kid’s been true to his word, stayed hands off and radio silent. He lets mortals deal with their own issues, keeping himself and the supernatural world well away. Even the angels leave people alone in heaven.

Especially the angels, Dean grudgingly admits to himself, late one night after leaving Sam’s house. Instead of going home to that extra rocking chair, he drives Baby slowly, aimlessly, yet somehow ends up back on that same bridge where he met up Sam all those years ago.

He parks right at the end (no traffic in heaven) and strolls out to the middle, scuffing his boots and sending little puffs of dust in the air. His hands are stuffed deep in his pockets, out of habit more than anything else, and he lifts his gaze from the ground up to the full moon in the sky.

“Hey, kid,” he says softly. “Hope it’s goin good for you.Things are pretty good here. I know you know, you’re everywhere and all that,” Dean waves his hand vaguely, then continues, “Just wanted to let you know, I guess. I didn’t tell you enough, but we—I —really appreciated you. Appreciate you. You, uh...you did real good, kid. Then and now.” He pauses, then takes a breath, standing straight and letting all pretense go.“Please tell Cas...he did good, and...I miss him. And I know you’re all taking the hands-off approach, but —I dunno, maybe...he could —stop by? Or…”

The silence around Dean is heavy, comforting like a thick blanket.

Or a tan trenchcoat, he thinks.

“Jack —“

He cuts himself off, though. He spent all this time in heaven working through rivers of bullshit, wearing down mountains of lies and self-loathing until he can finally be honest and open with everyone. And if he’s going to be honest with himself tonight, Jack isn’t who he needs to talk to.

“Sorry kid, I gotta put you on hold.”

Purgatory flashes before his eyes, that sense of loss and being lost, the desperation and certainty that he’d never see his best friend again.

I can’t do this anymore, he thinks. I can’t pretend anymore. And I’m done lying to myself.

“Cas. Castiel. I hope you can hear me. I miss you. I don’t know where you are. Bobby said you were here, that you helped remake this place into something pretty damned awesome, but I never see you. I can feel you sometimes, can tell some things are up here just because you put ‘em there. Someone will tell a story, and I swear I can feel you standing right beside me, can almost hear you frowning and not understanding the joke. I…”

He knows there’s something left —knows he hasn’t found the right words yet. He has no idea what that right thing is, or even what he’s still waiting for, but he figures if he just barrels on, it’ll come to him.

“There was too much in the way, back on earth, in Purgatory. Too much always coming after us, trying to kill us or worse. I got in my own damned way, never knew what to say or how to say it. Didn’t think I deserved...I should’ve…”

He’s not sure what’s more bizarre, that he’s praying to someone who probably won’t respond — probably can’t even hear him — or that he’s doing so in a place wildly opposite from that last time he prayed like this.

Dean isn’t sure how he keeps ending up in this situation, but here he is, gasping out his feelings to the night air, barely able to squeeze the words past that perpetual knot in his throat.

“It’s a lot clearer up here, more room to breathe and think. This heaven you and Jack made...it’s great. Hell, it’s damn near perfect. But there’s no you. And I just can’t see my heaven as right without you. I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.”

A wispy cloud, silver in the moonlight, drifts across an otherwise flawless sky. Dean stares upwards for several minutes, wondering if Cas can see the same stars tonight, wherever he is.

“Maybe...I don’t know if you can come back. Or if you even left. I don’t know how any of it works.”

He’s on the cusp. He can almost taste the next step.

Dean’s at a loss, though. He could be brave: he could say everything he should’ve said in that last moment, everything he should have told Cas.

Or he could take the comfortable path, revert to being a dick and tell Cas exactly how he feels about all this silent treatment, about the no-show in heaven or not telling him about his deal with the Empty until it was too late, about waiting until the last second so Dean would have no time—

Or he could do both.

Both is good.

Metal railings squeak under Dean’s punishing grip. He’s not sure when he grabbed hold of the bridge itself, but right now he needs all the support he can get.

“You left me! You should have told me, given me a chance. Another chance, just one more. I’m sorry, Cas, I knew but I didn’t. I— I should’ve told you, should’ve held you, I could have—“

The tears flow unimpeded, the air squeezed from his lungs in convulsive gasps, but Dean can’t stop now.

“I should have told you everything I felt, every day. I should have trusted you more, and I’m so sorry. You were always family, you were always there for me when I needed you. We both fucked up so many times, lost so much time together. I was so angry at you, at me, at everyone and everything, and I let it get in the way.”

The silence around him is maddening. Here he is, ripping his guts out in the middle of the bridge, and all he gets back is crickets and evening breezes. Dean shoves off the railing, too frantic to stay still.

“Gimme something, Cas, anything! I’m pouring my heart out! I fucked up, and I’m sorry, and I swear I’m gonna do better, but you’ve gotta give me the chance! Just...just give me some sort of answer, please? Let me know you’re there!”

The silence persists.

Just as quickly as Dean’s rage crescendos, it fizzles suddenly. He drops to the ground, back and head slamming hard against the side of the bridge as he lets out a roar of helpless rage. His fists grip his hair, teeth grinding against the wave of helplessness that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I missed my chance, I waited too long, I should’ve said— I should have—“

And then it comes to him.

His hands draw down from his hair, scrubbing his face before steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize.

“I’m an idiot.” His voice is barely audible, even to his own ears, but he has no doubt his words will reach their intended destination. “This place you built, you and Jack, it’s as good as it gets. I deserve it, I earned it. I got my family, I got the easy life for a while. I got my family. I had my rest. There’s only one thing left in the universe I need, only one person I want.”

Dean stands, dusting himself off and turning his face back up to the stars.

“I’m ready, Cas. I— I love you. And I’m ready for the next thing. Whatever that is. However that is. As long as—”

One last pause.

“As long as you’re there, that’s all I need.”

...

The inevitable day of separation comes: Jake’s first day of kindergarten. Samantha is proud of her guardian warrior, knows he’s going to succeed at everything he puts his little bullheaded mind to. Betty hopes very hard that he won’t be too lonely without Tabitha there with him. Tabitha only knows that Jake’s finger tastes good and makes her gums feel better when she chews on it.

Jake, as always, approaches this monumental step with aplomb and logic.

“I’ll give it a shot,” he says casually as his little sister gnaws on his thumb. “An’ if I don’t like it, I’ll just stay here and take care of Tabby. You an’ Mommy can go to work, then, ‘kay, Mama? I can make nut butter n’ jelly sammiches. But I’ll try it out.”

...

School isn’t so bad, Jake decides on his second day. His teacher Mrs. Harris seems to know what she’s doing (she already knows who she can trust with scissors and glue), and the other kids are nice enough. There’s different toys (“learning tools”, Mrs. Harris calls them), so that’s interesting enough, but—

Something is missing.

“Can you tell me what you mean, Jakey?” Betty asks at dinner that night. “Are there supplies you need? We got everything on the list.” She wipes a smear of sweet potato off Tabitha’s face before looking back to her son. His mouth is turned down in a frown of concentration, like he’s trying to remember something.

“I don’t need anything, Mama, just...someone. I need someone. My friend hasn’t come to school yet.”

“It takes time to make friends, baby,” Samantha says. “It’s only the second day of school. Have you tried asking anyone to play yet?”

“Yeah, and they’re fun and all, but they aren’t my friend. My friend isn’t here yet,” Jake says. Then his frown vanishes with the sudden mood change of a five-year-old, and he turns beseeching eyes on Betty, aiming unerringly at the softer target. “I finished my green beans. That means dessert now, right, Mama?”

Jake decides on the third day that the best place to wait for his friend (he just knows he’s going to show up any day now) is the playground.

“My friend likes the playground,” he murmurs. “That’s good, I like the playground, too.” He eats his lunch slowly, watching the other kids wolf down their food so they can have extra playtime. He’s barely finished his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, though, when he’s distracted by movement on the other side of the play yard. The door to the school opens and the school secretary steps out. Then she turns and gently pulls someone out from behind her.

A small boy stands in the doorway, white shirt tucked neatly into black slacks. His blue tie is a little loose, as if he’s been tugging on it, and his tan jacket is a little too big, hanging loosely around his small frame. His hair looks like someone was in too much of a rush to comb it properly. He clutches a pink piece of paper in one hand and, in the other, a backpack inexplicably decorated with flying, winged slices of pizza.

“Late drop-off, parent had to run,” the secretary tells Mrs. Harris before tiptoeing out of the room.

With an anxious glance at the other children, the boy scuttles forward and immediately trips over his own untied shoelaces.

Jake is at the little boy’s side before anyone else can react, kneeling down to check on him. The prone child is too shocked to cry, both by the fall and by the sudden appearance of this unknown factor. Jake checks him over, then nudges him until he sits up.

“You gotta keep ‘em double tied,” Jake says seriously. “Or else that’ll happen all the time.” Without waiting for an answer, Jake sets about the laborious task of looping each set of laces in turn, rabbits chasing each other around trees and down holes until the shoes are secure.

Jake climbs to his feet and reaches down, gripping the other boy’s shoulders and helping him stand. A dark smear of jelly stains the shoulder of the coat in the shape of a smudged purple handprint.

“Thank...thank you,” the smaller boys whispers. He lifts his eyes hesitantly, and clear blue meets olive green for the first time. “I’m Chris.”

“I’m Jake.” He thinks for a long moment, frowning. Something is settling in his chest, something big and permanent and scary; at first he thinks it’s too much.

Then he thinks back to what Mama told him: you can be as happy as you want.

He smiles at Chris. “You’re with me. You’re the one I was waiting for.”

Hope and just a bit of delight flicker across Chris’s eager face.

“I am? You mean it?”

Jake nods and grabs his new friend’s hand. “Yep. Now you’re here, that’s all I need. And nobody's allowed to take you from me, Mama said so. C’mon, let’s play cars.”

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thevoidismyhome2000 · 3 years

Text

Studio AU! FluffyNightKiller x Studio AU! XpressoLight

The magic of acting never ceased to amaze Ccino. How actors can so fully take on a persona and effortlessly bring things of fiction to life has always been amazing to Ccino, but especially now. He was preparing the coffee of the big four actors, Nightmare, Killer, Dream, and Cross, making each one perfect by second nature. His hands worked without thought, freeing his mind up to think about other things.

Like the fact that he had to come clean soon.

Ccino groans under his breath at the thought, closing his eye sockets.

When Nightmare and Killer began coming to the cafe during lunch, Ccino was hesitant, but excited. After all, two famous actors had focused their lunchtime on him! At first, it was like a dream. Gradually, he discovered things about them. Killer is infatuated with cats, and Nightmare needs no less than half the cup of creamer and milk in order to drink coffee without gagging.

Ccino became steadily happy to see them, excited and prepared every time. It was a few months of this when something else changed.

Ccino was cleaning up, ready to close up shop, when one hand rapped on the door.

“Hey, can we get something real quick?” The soft voice covered the space within and Ccino let the two visitors in, whom he quickly noted to be Dream, brother of Nightmare, and Cross.

They became something new in his routine.

Nightmare and Killer visited during lunch, and then Dream and Cross would stop by just before closing and walk Ccino home.

Just as had happened with Nightmare and Killer, Ccino gradually felt something for Dream and Cross.

It was only recently that Ccino finally put a word to the feelings he felt around the four actors.

Love.

He loved all four actors with all his heart.

And that led to this situation.

Where he needs to come clean to both pairs.

“Ccino, great work as always.” Came a compliment from the quieter of the two, Nightmare. Killer, meanwhile, was chugging the entire coffee order Ccino had made.

“I don’t know if I can ever make my own coffee again after getting used to you making it, Cc.” Ccino blushes slightly at the nickname Killer gave, freezing as he sees the other pair walking over.

I’d like a hole right now.

Ccino pales, chuckling nervously as Dream and Cross meet up with Nightmare, Killer, and Ccino.

“Hey, Ccino. Have you had a good day?” Ccino nods slightly, Dream frowning gently.

“If you’re having issues with your neighbors, you can always stay at our place.” Ccino shakes his head, trying to hide in his sweater as Nightmare responds.

“Dream? You know Ccino as well?” Dream nods.

“Cross and I have the time in the evenings, so we visit him and walk him home, you?”

“Kills and I can go during lunch, and we just hang out with him.” The two continue talking, leaving Killer and Cross to study Ccino, who is currently trying to melt into the floor.

“Hey, Night, Dream, I think Cc needs a break.” The two focus on Ccino, Nightmare frowning and gently rubbing Ccino’s pink cheeks.

“You’re heating up. Have you gotten enough sleep?” Ccino gives a small nod, not trusting his voice right now, silently thankful that neither pair has picked up on his feelings.

“We’ll be visiting during lunch, in the meantime, Dream, why don’t you take him to the nurse anyways, to make sure he’s okay.” Dream and Cross nod, leading Ccino away. Once they are around the corner, Dream smiles at Cross.

“You can head back, I think Ccino will be fine with just me.” Cross nods, placing a gentle kiss on Dream’s cheek, Ccino turning away from the affection.

I wish that could be me.

“Ccino, I’m not accusing you or anything, but based on the way you reacted, I get the feeling you are hiding something.” Ccino sighs, a little upset he can’t hide his feelings from Dream.

“I...I am...It’s nothing bad! I swear! Well...probably not. I’m…” Ccino stumbles over his words, Dream just smiling patiently. Ccino takes a deep breath, calming down slightly (he can never be truly calm when his blood might as well be coffee at this point).

“Promise you won’t judge me?”

“Promise.”

“Okay...I met Nightmare and Killer a few months before you and Cross...that isn’t the problem. The problem is…” Ccino can feel his cheeks heating up again at the thought.

The problem is I like all of you, and can’t decide which pair I like more.

“Is that all?” Ccino blinks.

“D-did...I say that out loud?”

“Yeap. And if you’re worried about picking a pair, then think about who you click with better.” Ccino releases a noise similar to a whine and a huff.

“If I could decide who I click with better, I would have picked already.” Dream hums softly, smiling.

“Then I suppose there really is a problem here.” Dream chuckles.

“Cause Cross and I fell for you too Coffee Boy. And I can already tell, Nightmare and Killer love you dearly as well.” Ccino slouches.

“Don’t remind me.”

“If you can’t pick, and all of us love you, then the solution is simple.” Dream smiles.

“Go back to your job, I’ll make sure Killer and Nightmare come with Cross and I at closing, okay?” Ccino slowly nods, heading back to his job with Dream, who then heads back to filming.

~~~~~

Ccino prepared their drinks about five minutes before they were due to arrive, cleaning excessively due to nerves mostly. Ever since his conversation, he’s been running different ideas for Dream’s solution in his head.

But there isn’t a solution here! Especially not a simple one.

“-Well, I’m glad we were able to clear that up!” Comes Dream’s voice from outside, laughter buried under the chipper tone.

“Agreed, and thank you for the suggestion.” Nightmare’s reply, in his cool yet soft voice.

“I’m amazed Ccino felt that way about us for so long and didn’t pop like a balloon.” Killer’s statement, with the undertones of excitement.

“Well, Ccino isn’t near as flirty as you.” Cross’s voice and laughter mixed with Killer’s laughter.

“True!” Killer replies, the excitement still there.

Finally, they reach the door, Dream raising his hand to knock.

“I-it’s open.” Dream smiles, pushing the door open, the other three filing in. Ccino is quick to hand them each their drink, making sure he got the order right.

The first several minutes are spent in utter silence as the four drink their coffees while Ccino vibrates between nervousness and wired on coffee. Even after they finish their drinks, none of them speak, only sending respective smiles toward Ccino.

What are they trying to do?

Ccino shudders, taking a deep breath and nervously wringing a nearby towel.

“I-i’m fairly certain Dream told you how I felt. I-i understand if you all are disgusted with me and don’t want to see me anymore. I-i can talk to my boss, get reassigned, never have to see you again,-” A soft hand rubs his tears away. Ccino blinks, staring at Dream, who tilts his head, smiling gently.

“Ccino, don’t cry, please. None of us want you reassigned, and none of us are disgusted with you. In fact...” Dream turns, Nightmare having stood up and crossed the cafe to stand beside Dream.

“We all want to try out Dream’s suggestion.”

“W-which is?” Dream and Nightmare smile, but it’s Killer, who is cuddling a cat, who responds.

“Well, we are all interested in polyamory. So the solution is simply for you to not choose at all.” Ccino tilts his head and Cross pipes up.

“You’ll get both Dream and I as well as Nightmare and Killer. All in one super deluxe package. We’re all in agreement that we are interested in you, and since you can’t make the choice, we figured this would be best, just to see.” Ccino sags against Nightmare, slightly catching the other off-guard.

“So...none of you hate me...for loving you both?” Dream chuckles softly and all the skeletons shake their heads.

“And you don’t hate me for hiding your visits from each other?”

“One, Ccino, we talk to each other at work. It was bound to come out. And two, you have a life outside of us. If we tried to micromanage your life so we were the only ones in it, we’d be toxic.” Ccino sighs, relaxing.

“Great, cause I’m tired, and don’t want to deal with my neighbors today.”

“Sounds great. Come stay at my place for the night.” Nightmare states, looking at the others.

“And no reason not to invite the rest of you over.” Everyone smiles and Ccino just rests on Nightmare. Slowly, Nightmare picks up Ccino, hugging the skeleton close to his chest, Killer and Cross rushing ahead to open the door, Dream smiling.

“Thank you...all...really…” Ccino mumbles as he slowly dozes off on Nightmare’s shoulder. The four look at each other, before grinning down at Ccino, whispering soft ‘goodnights’ to the tired skeleton.

Studio AU Concept and Headcanons courtesy of @zu-is-here, @help-im-a-gay-fish, @kotikaleo, and @yuriyuruandyuraart Nightmare and Dream belong to @jokublog Cross belongs to @jakei95 Killer belongs to @rahofy-sketch / @rahafwabas Ccino belongs to @black-nyanko

Honestly, I had so much fun writing this! This is probably my fluffiest oneshot ever.

#Ccillermare/FluffyNightKiller #XpressoLight #studio au #undertale #undertale aus #dream #nightmare #ccino #cross #killer #Hope You Enjoyed My Floofy Writing!#Have A Great Day/Night!

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sethrine-writes · 3 years

Text

Daughter of a Devil, Ch. 30

Main Characters: Father!Dante & Daughter!Reader

Words: 1254

Warnings: Shenanigans, Dante being Dante

Story Summary: Being a parent wasn’t easy, nor was there such thing as being perfect at it. Good news for Dante, seeing as how he doesn’t have the slightest idea in hell what to do with a child. Sometimes, he was certain that fighting off a horde of demons was a far better match than keeping up with his own daughter. Well, at least he wasn’t going down without a fight.

A/N: And thus, we come to an end. It has been absolutely wonderful revisiting a fic I wrote literally a decade ago, editing it and making it even better than before and seeing just how much of a better writer I have become over the years. And the response from all of you has been beyond this world. So thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me this far and for continuing to support me in something that I love doing. I hope you guys enjoy this final chapter!

------

Chapter 30 - Only The Beginning (21 yrs.)

“SURPRISE!”

You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, hair a mess and pajamas still on your barely awake form, damn near stupefied at the three you saw before you.

Lady, Trish, and even your father were all adorned in triangular top hats with colorful streamers coming out of the top. The shop around you was decorated in shiny, metallic ribbons, paper chains, and other decorations in your favorite colors all speckled with flecks of gold and silver. Balloons filled with helium were floating on strings wound around several surfaces. To top it all off, a big two-tiered cake sat atop your father’s desk which had been moved to the middle of the room in a rather comical but endearing display.

“Uh…what happened to the shop?”

“Why, a magical unicorn decided he would make this his home, so he threw up glittery streamers to make the place lively - oomph!”

Lady quickly jabbed her elbow into Dante’s side, a deep chuckle escaping his lips as he looked back up at you. You weren’t quite as amused by his attempt at being funny as he seemed.

“Right…well, I’m going back to bed, now.”

“Wait, squirt! It’s your birthday!”

“At least, that’s what he keeps telling us,” Trish piped in, giving your father a narrowed side-eye. Lady was no better in her treatment, huffing while crossing her arms and turning her stern gaze on him.

“Honestly, if this is some stupid prank on your daughter, I swear, Dante-“

“No, he’s right, it’s my birthday,” you assured, choosing to step out into the open area to look around a little more closely now that your eyes had adjusted to being open. “I’m just…I’m actually surprised. I don’t think I’ve had a party since I was, like, twelve.”

“Well, it isn’t every day you turn twenty-one,” Trish suggested, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It's the first official step into complete adulthood, so I've been told. So, if you ever need help moving some things into your new place, or just feel like going out without your father, Lady and I would be more than happy to tag along.”

“Alright, Trish, don’t give her any ideas,” Dante warned teasingly, though his eyes were much more serious with the threat.

Trish gave a light chuckle before leading you to the desk where the cake resided, giving you a moment to inspect it up close.

Both tiers were covered in what looked to be rich buttercream icing in a multitude of darker colors. If you had to guess what flavor the cake was beneath, it would be the same kind you had always asked for when you were younger.

“You guys really didn’t have to do all this. I mean, this place looks ridiculous, and this cake-“

“Will feed you for the next two weeks,” Lady noted as her eyes cut over to Dante’s smiling form. “Your father really wanted to go all-out this year.”

“Anything for Daddy’s Little Devil!”

“Dad," you groaned in embarrassment, physically recoiling at the old nickname, "come on, you haven’t called me that in literal years."

“Well, this old man never forgets such an important thing. You used to love when I called you that; you’d smile all big and strut around like you were such a bad-ass little kid. And now…now you’re a bad-ass little woman.”

You bristled unexpectedly at the taunt.

“Excuse you? I am not little!”

“Of course you are, squirt! It’s like you skipped your last growing spurt, or something.”

“Are you just trying to piss me off?!”

“Also seems you’ve got a short temper, too.”

“That one came from you, I’m afraid,” Trish stated nonchalantly, swiping a bit of icing from the edge of the bottom tier with her index finger and bringing it to her lips, of which caught your attention.

From what you could tell, it was the kind of icing that was mixed all the way through, and with how dark the colors had come out, it would most certainly stain anything and everything it lingered on.

A wicked glimmer shot through your eyes as you reached forward and swiped some of the icing yourself, letting the sweet buttercream flavor take over your taste buds momentarily before smiling.

“You know what? I’m suddenly feeling the spirit of things,” you said with a small smile, looking to Dante almost expectantly. “Why don’t you cut me a piece of cake like you always used to do, old man? After all, it is tradition.”

Dante seemed mildly shocked at your words, but a wide smile overcame him nonetheless as he reached for the knife and paper plates that had been placed just to the side of the sweet treat.

“Of course, squirt. Anything for my little girl!”

You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes at his egging, but you held your tongue and moved to the side to allow your father the space he needed to cut the cake.

“I want a big piece. Might as well consider this breakfast, considering the time."

Dante nodded as you took a small step backward and reached out over Dante’s head with one hand. Trish and Lady both slowly moved off to each side to stay clear of the messy catastrophe ahead. They were all too aware of what you were planning to do.

“This big enough, squirt?” Dante asked as he cut into the bottom tier a second time, shimmying the piece of cake onto the knife and pulling it from its place.

“Perfect,” you stated with a wide smirk, pushing forward with your hand and connecting with your father’s head. You had expected to hear the slight squish of icing against skin as well as cake to go flying. What you hadn’t expected was to feel the cool substance against your own face.

The room was dead quiet for a moment as you collected your bearings, wiping the icing from your eyes in order to see the clean, smirking face of your father staring at you.

“You're right, it was the perfect size to cover that pretty face of yours. Just look at all those nice, dark colors! Brings out your eyes.”

Dante busted out laughing then, unable to keep his amusement under control. Trish and Lady joined in as well, and as you stuck an icing coated finger in your mouth, you also began giggling. You may have thought you were pretty fast, but your father was still faster than you.

It wasn’t until a moment later that you remembered the icing would stain your face a mixture of those very colors your father had talked of for at least a few hours.

If you could devil trigger, you were sure you would have done so at that very moment.

The following few minutes consisted of you chasing your father around the shop with the same knife he had used to cut the cake, Lady and Trish standing by and watching the chaos unfold as they enjoyed their own slices.

“I’m going to kill you, old man! You are so dead!”

“And hear I thought this would be the end of your anger towards your dear ol’ dad!”

Dante twisted to the side quickly, barely avoiding the whirling knife aimed at his head and instead embedding itself in the wooden wall next to him. He smirked as you pulled your gun, Rein, from seemingly out of nowhere, angry amusement apparent in your gaze.

“The end? Hell no! I’m only twenty-one, after all; this is only the beginning!”

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #devil may cry dante #reader #reader-insert #female reader #dmc trish #dmc lady #Daughter of a Devil

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megalony · 3 years

Text

Labour pains- Part 2

This is the follow up to my Murderer! Ben Hardy imagine which I hope you will all enjoy, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have a son together and are expecting another baby, but problems arise when (Y/n) is adamant she doesn’t want to give birth after the trauma of her first child.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright doll, I think we should go to the hospital now." Ben's words were gentle but still full of caution as he slowly sat down on the bed beside (Y/n). He didn't want to upset her or make her feel scared but it was getting to the stage where he knew they needed a midwife so they needed to go to the hospital.

For the past week Ben hadn't gone to work in case (Y/n) went into labour, they were only eight months right now and they had been past their due date with James. But (Y/n) had been uncomfortable for the past few days and the baby seemed to be moving a lot and laying lower than normal. Now it seemed that (Y/n) was in fact in labour and Ben was very pleased he hadn't gone to work because he hated the thought of (Y/n) being alone when this happened.

"No!" (Y/n) shook her head and snapped her eyes closed when another pain coursed through her stomach and made her lower back tense until she was sure her spine was going to snap in half. She didn't want to have this baby but she really didn't want to go to the hospital anymore.

The midwife had said it would be better if they had the baby in hospital due to how badly (Y/n) was panicking about the labour. Then there would be a lot more help available and if something went wrong it could be taken care of very easily. Ben seemed to agree to the idea and (Y/n) did as well in the beginning because she didn't care. She agreed because she didn't want to argue or talk about it, (Y/n) simply wanted to forget that she would have to give birth. And there was a small part of her that was praying that if she went to hospital and was this distressed they would give her a C-section and end all her pain and worries.

Now she had changed her mind.

"Doll we need to let a midwife take a look at you, I don't think we can sit here for the rest of the night." Ben rested his hand on (Y/n)'s lower back and started to rub soothing circles into her skin which looked like it was easing a little of the tension she was feeling. But he could see in the way her lips pressed together tightly that she wasn't happy or agreeing with him.

"No! They'll c-call a doctor, I don't want to go to hospital." (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed as she shook her head in defiance. If she went to the hospital there was nothing stopping a midwife from letting a doctor into the room and (Y/n) couldn't have a doctor coming anywhere near her. She wasn't even sure about a midwife getting too close because last time the midwives didn't seem to know what on Earth they were doing. They just let the doctor do what he pleased and they stood back waiting to take James away from (Y/n) the moment he was born.

"Doll we need to get you to a midwife-"

"If we go to hospital you can't- ... can't stop a doctor c-coming in, you can't let a doctor hurt me! Ben please..."

(Y/n) rubbed her free hand over her stomach as her other hand was braced on the edge of the bed which she felt she might fall off in a moment. She couldn't sit any further back on the bed because it put too much pressure on her lower back where the baby was already pressing on very hard. And if (Y/n) tried to stand she would only fall to her knees.

Ben could tell that when he eased his arms around (Y/n)'s waist she wanted to pull away from him like she thought he was going to hoist her to her feet and carry her to the car. But she didn't have the energy or the will to move so she tensed her body and tilted her head down until her chin was pushing into her chest. He could feel how she was waiting for him to make a move, to stand up and pick her up or try and pull her with him so he could take her to the dreaded place she couldn't force herself to go back to.

But he didn't. He eased (Y/n) back until she was leaning into his chest and he pressed his lips to the side of her neck, trying anything he could think of to keep her calm and settled.

"Doll, I swear to God that I'm not letting anyone hurt you or come near you if you don't want them to. I need a midwife to come see you but if you don't want to go to hospital then we won't, you can have this baby here at home because you're safe here and I can stop anyone from coming in if you don't want them here. Does that sound okay?"

If (Y/n) couldn't face the hospital then that was fine, Ben figured it would be more comfortable and settling for (Y/n) to have the baby at home in her own bed. She was somewhere that she always felt safe, Ben was here and he could stop a doctor from entering their home and he could tell the midwives to leave (Y/n) alone if she got too panicked and frightened. This was an environment that they could control, unlike when James was born. The only person that was going to hurt (Y/n) was the baby and there was nothing anyone could do about that.

"I- I do want this baby... b-but it hurt so much-" (Y/n) tried to look up at Ben but the tears forming in her eyes blurred his image and made it too hard to keep her eyes open. She snapped them closed and leaned her head against Ben's cheek, feeling herself beginning to shake even though Ben was rubbing circles into her skin and swaying them a little.

"I know you do doll." There was no way that Ben could be angry or upset with (Y/n) and he knew her so he knew that she did want this baby. She wasn't so distraught and afraid that she despised and hated the baby. Once this was all over and done with (Y/n) would try and forget this memory and focus on the new life that they had created. Ben was proud of (Y/n) and he couldn't fault her for the way she was reacting when she had been hurt so badly the first time. He just wanted to help but there was very little that he could do other than reassure her that he wasn't going anywhere and that he would keep her safe.

Ben moved his left hand and held it out in front of (Y/n) when she tensed and he figured another pain had suddenly hit her. He felt her fingers slipping into the grooves of his own and she rubbed her palm against his chapped one. She forced a lot of pressure onto his hand and squeezed against the joints and knuckles that had been broken many times before but there was very little pain for Ben. He had a high pain threshold that (Y/n) needed right now.

"Alright baby, I can hear the doorbell so that'll be mum here for James. I'll go get him ready and call the midwife to come here then I'll be right back with you, okay?"

Ben waited until (Y/n) let go of his hand and managed to nod in understanding before he dared move her enough so that he could stand to his feet. James was still in bed and would either be half awake or fully asleep by now but either way it didn't matter. Ben would carry him down and settle him into his mother's car so she could care for him while his new brother or sister was born.

(Y/n) could hear Ben's heavy steps as he headed out of the room and she could feel the atmosphere changing as his presence disappeared from the room. She didn't like being alone like this, the pain clouded her judgement and made her feel more desperate than she felt when she had Ben holding her. His arms were a safety net around (Y/n) and he made her feel at ease. Despite knowing what anguish normally rattled through his head and the terror his hands imposed when fisted in gloves, Ben's murderous side never showed when he was around his wife. All he made (Y/n) feel was safe and loved and right now she needed that more than ever.

When (Y/n) managed to open her eyes she looked past the open door and into the hall just long enough to catch Ben walking past the doorway with a sleeping James tucked up in his arms resting against his chest.

Whenever she saw Ben carrying James it was always in the same way, he rested James up against his chest and carried him with one arm as if their boy weighed nothing more than a feather. And even in his sleep, James was tracing the tattoo on the back of Ben's neck that he was always so fascinated by.

Her eyes followed her two boys for a moment before they suddenly snapped closed like shutters on a shop when a particularly bad pain made her legs quake and her body jerk forward.

Not knowing what to do with herself nor wanting to stay sitting on the bed, (Y/n) pushed herself to her shaking feet, wondering if pacing the length of the room might help like it had done when she had James. It hurt to walk but it hurt even more to sit and (Y/n) knew if she tried lying down she would never get back up again. But when she did a second lap around the room, (Y/n) stopped dead on her feet and stared down at the floor when she felt like there was a balloon in her stomach that had popped.

When she saw the water trickling down her legs (Y/n) suddenly felt sick to her stomach. The pains made her afraid but her water breaking made this all seem and feel real. (Y/n) didn't want this to be real, as much as this baby meant to her (Y/n) didn't want the pain it would bring her. She didn't want the pain or anguish or torment because it hurt and it wasn't something she wanted to relive.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and reached her right hand out to feel for the bed as she started to move.

"No baby, no baby." (Y/n) repeated the words like a mantra she was desperate to believe as she headed over to the adjoining bathroom. She couldn't do this, (Y/n) couldn't have this baby and she didn't want to. Why couldn't she have a remote for time and skip ahead to where the pain would vanish?

"Doll- doll what are you-" Ben cut himself off the moment he came to the doorway of their bedroom and caught sight of (Y/n) practically crawling into the bathroom. Part of him wondered if she felt like she was going to be sick but he reeled back when (Y/n) slammed the door behind herself but when Ben heard the lock on the door chime he felt himself going rigid.

What was she doing?

"Doll what are you doing in there?" Ben approached the door with caution and he rapped his knuckles against the wood quietly but the controlling, darker side of him wanted to use more force and bang his fist against the door to get it open. He didn't want (Y/n) stuck in there alone because he didn't like the thought of (Y/n) trapping herself in the bathroom with how she was feeling and panicking. "Doll open the door."

"I- I don't wanna do this, I can't... I won't do it again." (Y/n) leaned her head on her folded arms that were resting on the sink. She arched her back out and tried to focus on the feeling of the cold sink making her burning arms feel more at ease.

"Baby now listen to me, you can be helped through this but not if you're gonna shut yourself away in here. Open the door and let me help you baby."

"I want it to stop and you can't stop it! I won't do it Ben I- I can't! I'm n-not having this baby I h...have to make it stop."

Ben felt his blood running cold at the desperation in (Y/n)'s voice and he could almost picture her shaking as she spoke, the fright taking over her system. He wanted to take her in his arms and make it all go away, he wanted to say he was sorry and change what had happened with James so (Y/n) wasn't scared and afraid of being hurt and cut up again. He wanted to show her that no one was doing anything to her again because he was here to protect her. But he couldn't because she was hiding away from him and everyone else because she was in pain and she wanted it to stop.

"What do you mean, doll?"

Ben leaned his forehead against the door until he could feel the wood splintering into his skin and he could hear (Y/n) crying and gasping for air. He could even tell when she was having a contraction because he could hear the hitch in her breath and the way she tried her best to breathe through a moan of agony.

"Doll what the fuck do you mean by that? Open the door now or I'll break it down." The tension in Ben's voice was clear because he too was scared. He didn't doubt that (Y/n) felt like she couldn't do this again but now he was afraid that she was going to do something rash or hurt herself because she was so desperate not to have this baby.

Ben tried his luck fighting with the door handle before he conferred with himself that he was going to have to either kick the lock or bash his side into the door to snap the metal bolt preventing him from getting to his wife.

"Doll I'm sorry I am but you're in labour, you can't stop this but you can make it easier if you open the door and when the midwife gets here everything will be okay. But if you don't let me in I'll break the door because I think you're gonna do something bad."

"Why does it have to hurt?" The broken and very quiet tone of (Y/n)'s voice made Ben's heart jump in his chest and his expression fell like it was too hard to hold up any longer. He felt the door move when (Y/n) seemed to push or lean on it but she was making no effort to open the door. She knew he wouldn't break the lock if she leaned on the door because he didn't want to hurt her and it was only fuelling the rage inside of him and that hurt him more than anything else.

"I don't know baby and I'd do anything to make it painless for you. But it won't hurt like last time because that bastard isn't gonna be here. No one is gonna cut you, no one will hurt you or be cruel or do anything you don't want them to or without telling you. We both know you can't have this baby on your own in there you need to open the door soon."

Ben didn't want to be cruel and demand that (Y/n) open the door or move away so he could break it, he was trying to coax her gently to open the door but he couldn't tell if it was working. (Y/n)'s lack of cries and screams was a good sign but he couldn't tell if she was panicking or not and she sounded in between distress and a stage of coping with this mess.

"W-what did you do... to him?"

He didn't want to tell her. Ben didn't want to admit what he had done because it had been a silent agreement between them that (Y/n) was better off not knowing.

When the doctor hurt (Y/n) security had to restrain Ben after he followed the doctor out of the delivery room when everything was over and he pinned him up to the wall. And (Y/n) could remember the day after the birth even though she had been on pain medication. Ben came into her hospital room with broken knuckles and his tail between his legs because (Y/n) didn't condone him fighting unless it was in the ring and he knew it. All he told her was that the doctor wouldn't hurt anyone else like he did her and in her state (Y/n) simply nodded and chose to forget what he had said and done.

(Y/n) was always too afraid to ask because she knew what her husband was capable of and at the time she had been eighteen and the worst she had seen Ben do had given her nightmares. But now she wanted to know what he had done, maybe it would make her feel a bit better to know that the doctor had been hurt just like she had.

"I followed him after his shift, he didn't give a fuck what he'd done he already forgot how badly he hurt you and I couldn't let him get away with it. I trapped his hands in the door of his car, broke all his knuckles and snapped his fingers to the back of his hand. I cut him too but he passed out at that point. I know how much he hurt you and he got it ten times worse doll, I promise. But no one is gonna do anything like that to you again."

Ben had pinned the doctor up against his car but he didn't even remember (Y/n) or what he'd done to her until Ben vividly reminded him all of what he'd done. Ben told him that his hands were mangled and would forever stay that way so no other girl or woman would have to be cut up like a piece of meat and no other baby would be born and left not breathing like James had been. Then Ben took a knife to him to show him what he had done to (Y/n) without giving her any pain relief before or after he took a knife to her.

Ben didn't kill the doctor no matter how desperate he had been and how easy it would have been for him to do so. He let him live because it was a better punishment for him to live with his injuries and never forget why he had them.

"Baby please open the door, this is the last time I'll ask."

Ben didn't know if it made (Y/n) feel better or worse, knowing what he had done to that doctor but he couldn't care anymore. He wanted (Y/n) safe in his arms and he couldn't trust her in there on her own.

"(Y/n) open the door!" Ben raised his voice and slammed his palm down against the door when (Y/n) screamed and moaned from a contraction that Ben could almost feel with the way her scream tore through his every fibre. It sounded like she had slumped against the door from the pain but when she started to sob and mumble something incoherent Ben started to shake. He couldn't trust her not to hurt herself.

A shudder ran down Ben's spine and he took a step away from the door when he heard (Y/n) moving about before he suddenly heard the cabinet above the sink behind opened. Ben knew exactly what they kept in that cabinet and if (Y/n) was serious about being too scared and in pain to go through with labour he knew what she might do and use to try and make it stop.

Ben rammed his left shoulder and arm into the door with force enough to feel the hinges squeak in fear and the second time he barged his weight and frame into the door the metal lock gave way to his demands.

The moment the door swung open Ben stumbled into the room and quickly reached (Y/n). She was coiled over the sink in a way that told him she was frozen due to a contraction but her face was flooded with tears and there was a bottle of pills sitting in the sink like she had knocked them off the shelf.

Saying nothing, Ben wrapped his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and spun her round so she was facing him and not the sink. He slipped am arm under her legs and the other around her back so he could pick her up and he felt relief coursing through him when (Y/n) didn't fight him. She curled up in his arms like she was shrinking and she buried her face in the crook of his neck but it did nothing to smother her tears.

"Shh, you're okay doll, I've got you." Ben spoke soothingly against her temple even though his voice shook from adrenaline and nervousness. He dared not think what (Y/n) might have done if he were only two or three seconds later in breaking the lock on the door.

Ben rested his knee against the bed so he could carefully lower (Y/n) down onto the bed, watching as she painfully shuffled to lay on her side but she hooked her arms around Ben's neck and pulled him down to her all the same. She couldn't let him go, the pain was becoming overwhelming and if he left her again she would be falling without her safety net there to catch her.

"Doll, the midwife's here. Do not move until I get back because you are gonna be perfectly fine. I don't want you being terrified about this baby because you know what you're doing and I'm not letting anyone hurt you, you know that don't you doll."

No one was going to hurt (Y/n) this time because Ben wouldn't allow it and he couldn't have her panicking because he was here and he wasn't going anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"One more push (Y/n), and then the head will be born, you're so close now." Lucy smiled up at (Y/n) from where she was kneeling on the floor in front of her but her smile wasn't comforting to (Y/n) because the pain was far too high for her to control or bear.

(Y/n) tightened her hands in Ben's and she could feel his elbows pushing into her sides like he was making sure to keep her back pressed into his chest. They were both sitting on the very edge of the bed because (Y/n) was at ease like this rather than lying down but Ben felt like she was going to fall onto the floor so he was trying to hold her tightly but not too tight so he wouldn't hurt her.

"Baby's almost here (Y/n)." (Y/n) opened her eyes and looked down at Lucy who had been very calm and attentive and understanding over the five hours she had been here but (Y/n) had been less than cooperative. She didn't want to do this but Lucy was taking everything in her stride, even when (Y/n) flinched or cried or told her to leave her alone. But when she saw Lucy moving to go through her bag she tensed up in Ben's arms and tried to push back into him.

"No! N-no don't..."

"Doll, shh she's not gonna cut you I swear. Shh." Ben pressed his lips to (Y/n)'s ear and started humming to try and calm her down, tensing his chest so (Y/n) couldn't push back into him anymore than she was trying to do. But he looked down at the midwife kneeling before him to try and silently tell her that she would have to reassure (Y/n) herself.

"(Y/n), baby doesn't need any help from me, you just have to push I'm not here to hurt you because you seem to know exactly what you're doing. Look, no knives or tools here." Lucy held her hands up for (Y/n) to see that the only thing she had was gloves and nothing else. No knife, no scalpel, no other tool to cut (Y/n) or pull the baby forcefully into the world. (Y/n) didn't need any help because the baby wasn't stressed or stuck or in dire need of assistance.

Ben continued to whisper little nothings into (Y/n)'s ear as she cried out, leaning forward until Ben clamped his arms against her sides so she didn't fall off the bed.

"See, baby's head is born now (Y/n), one more push like that and it'll all be over and done with."

Those were the words (Y/n) had been so desperate to hear and tell herself for the past eight months. She had been desperate to hear someone tell her that it would be over and done with, that she could forget all this ever happened and just turn it into a distant nightmare that was over and done with. (Y/n) wanted this baby in her arms and all the pain to go away forever.

It felt like (Y/n) was being cut in two but this time there was no knife splitting through her skin that would have to be stitched up later so that (Y/n) couldn't sit down without agonising pain coursing through her body for weeks afterwards. There was no doctor forcefully pulling her baby out into the world or ripping her skin apart without telling her what he was doing or why. There was only Ben and Lucy and neither of them were doing anything to hurt (Y/n) just like Ben promised.

"And baby's here! You've done it, (Y/n), you have a baby girl."

Ben quickly let go of (Y/n)'s hands so he could wrap his arms properly around her middle and shuffle further back onto the bed, easing (Y/n) with him when she seemed to go limp in his arms. He knew she hadn't passed out but she didn't have anymore energy left in her and he couldn't have her slumped against him when she was sitting so far on the edge of the bed. He kissed her temple when (Y/n) let her head fall back onto Ben's shoulder and he could feel her relief as he mumbled praises against her skin.

(Y/n) pushed herself more into Ben the moment their girl was placed into her arms that were really starting to shake from relief, adrenaline and pain. The pain wasn't gone yet and she knew it would still last with her for a while but it wasn't as bad as it had been earlier and it was worth it. She had been so scared that when their baby was placed into her arms, she would feel that the pain she went through wasn't worth the outcome. But (Y/n) could see their daughter was worth the pain she didn't want to go through.

"You've done it, doll. My clever girl."

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #imagine #BoRhap #dad! ben #murderer! ben #labour pains

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redhawtriot · 4 years

Note

IM DYING for some domestic things, can I please have small request about it? What if Bakugo, Kirishima, Shigaraki and Dabi (seperated, obviously) coming home and bringing one cutie plusiu for their unborn child? Sorry for wxtra fluff I just need more cute things in our lifes 😭 YOU R AWESOME HAPPY ONE MONTH LUV YA

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I had to do this one right away! Sorry if some of these are very narrow-minded views on expecting children! I know surrogacy and adoption are also options! Let me know in the comments if those are things you guys would like to see as well!

But I got too excited when I saw this! lol The mucus filled disaster where my heart is supposed to be jumped for joy when I read this prompt!

HnM💕

💖Dabi:

When you first met Dabi, one of your very first presumptions about the man was that he should never have offspring.

That’s not to say that you were not immediately drawn to his physical looks and demeanor, rather you just couldn’t picture such a stoic man ever having the visceral capacity in his cold heart to care much about anyone besides himself.

It wouldn’t be until much later than your initial meeting where these feelings would be fully swayed– passed when you got to know him better and saw his standoffish mask fade away, revealing a loyal, surprisingly warm man– passed becoming romantically involved with him and finding him putting aside his own slight needs at times to fulfill yours– passed even your first pregnancy together.

It was the day of your child’s birth that you knew just how much of a kind-hearted creature your partner could be.

You already knew that he wouldn’t be able to attend the birth. He was a known “terrorist” after all. The sight of him in a hospital would only end in havoc.

Those people— always quick to label anyone who won’t conform under their oppression with such othering terms.

You gave a quick glance to your sleeping daughter, immediately feeling a heaviness in your heart. The picture just wasn’t complete without Dabi.

Yes, it hurt to be alone but you reminded yourself that you would soon return from the hospital to reunite your little untypical family.

But for the moment, you could only sleep and let your body heal from child birth.

A familiar sound suddenly chipped away at your peaceful unconscious, “You are so beautiful. Just like your mom, huh?”

Was that Dabi?

You tried to pry your heavy eye lids open and call out to him but only a slight tired groan came out.

“Go back to sleep, Y/N,” you felt a warm hand rub your cheek, “You did a good job. Rest up,” you tried to fight against your sleepiness but the soothing nature of his touch eventually dragged you back to sleep.

“You are perfect. I… I didn’t know I could feel so much for one person. God, I am going to spend every moment of my life protecting you until the day I die, baby girl.”

“Dabi!!” You gasped. You finally snapped your body up, and ignored the searing pain in your lower abdomen and you crazily searched the room for the father of your child.

Your heart sagged at his absence.

However on the visitors chair next to your daughters plastic crib was a large array of pink stuff animals and hearts.

You dragged yourself off of the bed and scuttled to the display of rosy penguins and pigs and bears and saw a card with a lone pink balloon on the front.

Curiously, you slowly opened the card,

I hope this doesn’t gross you out, me being all soft and everything, but as soon as I saw her I wanted to give her absolutely everything. My baby girl is the most precious thing I have ever seen.

I’m so proud of you. You did a good job, babe. Heal up and come home soon, kay?

I can’t wait to hold my girls again.

🐊Kirishima:

He was beyond happy to become the father to your children. Words wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the pure and overwhelming feelings of joy that he felt as he bounced out of the doors of the drug store near your house.

He glanced down to a torn piece of a magazine the two of you had lying around the house, checking the small list he made one more time before he left the stores premises:

Vitamin B6

A plush crocodile

flowers

Left Twix

pregnancy test

Yep! All accounted for! He had practically no trouble at all finding most things on the list, but the plush crocodile was a bit harder than he expected.

He had asked an associate about the plush toy in hopes of finding it, but they only had alligators.

“But this is a stuffed alligator. See?” As Kirishima pointed to the stuffed animals face, the associate only became confused, so Kiri explained further, “The nose shape is all wrong. It has to be a crocodile? Are you sure this all you have?”

It was indeed all they had. Kirishima let out a small sigh, but honestly not even the drug store’s reptile discrimination could bring his day down!

“My wife is pregnant!” He exclaimed with an extremely proud smile to a couple he passsed as he made his way into his car. One of the strangers immediately cheered him on with a loud “whoop whoop!” before his boyfriend smacked him on the shoulder for the wild display.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe how long it was taking your husband to return home from the store. You bounced your leg uncomfortably as you waited on your living room couch.

He was only supposed to be picking up one thing! The longer you sat and waited for him to return, the more your nerves stacked upon each other.

You’re heart flipped in your chest as your front door suddenly opened. You quickly stood from the couch, “You got it?”

He hurried up to you, “Yep! Here, go take the test!” He pressed a kiss on your cheek and frantically handed you an already opened pregnancy test like a baton in a race.

You raised an eyebrow to him, before pausing as you caught a glance at the flowers in his other hand. You shook your head in disbelief, “Eiji look, I told you not to get too excited,” you pointed an accusing finger as you walked away toward to bathroom, “The test we took was old. It might have been a fake positive,” you hollered from the bathroom after shutting the door.

He followed you to the bathroom, but remained fidgety on the other side, “Well I know for a fact that it wasn’t a fake positive,” he replied with a slightly smug tone as he tried to mask his own nervousness.

“Oh yeah?” You laughed at his smugness, “Well… would that be such a bad thing?” You tried to sound lighthearted as you stared at the stick in front of you and waited for the second line to appear.

The two of you hadn’t really been planning for a child. You hadn’t ever really even talked about having children much, so when you missed your period last week and became sick this morning, this response from Kirishima was very unexpected.

He was way happier than you would have thought he would be. Just when you thought your beam of light couldn’t get any happier….

God, you didn’t want to let him down.

Suddenly Kirishima heard you scream on the other side of the door.

The man immediately burst through the door accidentally busting a portion of the frame, “Oh man, S-sorry. But WHAT IS IT!?”

“Happy face!” A smile split your face as you threw yourself at him for a hug.

“T-that means pregnant!?” He frantically stuttered, frozen in place.

“That means pregnant!” You hopped up and down.

He wasted no time at all as you scooped you up into his arms. The both of you laughed in unbelievable glee as he carried you to the living room and sat you down on the couch. He swiftly handed you the flowers, “Here you go, baby mama.” You laughed at his phrasing as he reach somewhere behind him to grab his drug store plastic bag.

“And these,” he smiled up at you, “for your stomach.”

Chocolate and…. B6?? What even is that? You threw him a confused glance, so he immediately explained.

“I was talking to a lady by the pharmacy about your morning sickness,” no wonder he took so long, you laughed at his diligence as he continued, “She said B6 can help. So the vitamins will do good for your stomach, and the chocolate will taste good for your stomach.”

Your face almost hurt from how hard your were smiling, “God, you really went all out! You really are hard headed you know that?”

“Only the best for my girls,” he argued as he pulled the stuffed alligator from behind his back.

“Oh my goodness!!” You explained with a laugh, the two of you always got each other crocodile things. The first thing you ever said to him in high school was a mocking joke about his choice in footwear—crocs. You laughed, “You think its a little girl, huh? Well, I think it’s a hard headed little boy just like his dad.”

“I guess we’ll see,” he said as he pecked you on the lips.

“I guess we will.” You smiled back at him.

🐻Shigaraki:

The two of you weren’t exactly on the greatest of terms. What was meant to be a drunken fling ended up turning into, in your opinion, a long, drawn out train-wreck of a relationship– if you could even call it that.

You swear that that man has the mentality of a child, and it seemed like every time he would take a step toward the grand goal of maturity, something would come by and knock him two steps back again.

So it was obviously not a shock to you that the overgrown baby was no where near prepared to raise a baby of his own. You almost expected him to storm off sooner than he did when you told him you were pregnant.

But he just stared at you.

“What? Would you stop staring at me like I’m some alien now?” you had thrown your hands on your hips as if to undermine any overwhelming feelings he had, “You did this to me!!” you had foolishly screamed at him, causing him paused in shock before storming away as you feared he would.

How could you say that to him? Then again, you knew you had your faults as well. After all you were the one who hid the pregnancy until you had begun to show.

It was just too much for you to bare– the thought of being left alone to raise a snotty little thing, the thought of him staying and you being forced into a failing relationship, the thought of what kind of fucked up hero society you would raise the thing in. All of these thoughts festering in your mind over the past few months boiled into a harden crust and weighed down upon your mind.

“Shit…” you sighed under your breath, finally releasing the flood of emotions that you had been holding back for all of these months in a wave of tears.

“Y/N,” Shigaraki’s voice suddenly snapped you out of your despairing trance, “Here,” he harshly shoved a soft object into your face much like a student would an unseemly note to his classmate.

You looked down at the object and was completely surprised by what you saw, “A bear…?” you gawked at the plush object. He hadn’t ever bought you any gifts before.

“I wasn’t planning on staying with you,” he said very simply, his words sending a sharp pain through your heart.

Your still teary eyes blinked a few times as you tried to hold back your inevitable crying, “O-okay? I-“ he suddenly cut you off,

“I’m not as stupid as you might think. I can see that you are unhappy with me, so I was gonna just drop this… us,” he trailed off as if he were carefully preparing his next set of words, so you sat in silence and waited for them,

He finally spoke, “but knowing that we are expecting a child makes me really happy. Because it’s with you. I will… try to make you happier.”

You immediately wrapped your arms around him and held him closer to you than you ever had before, as if you were finally becoming one with him. You honestly didn’t know if the two of you would work out, but hearing those words come from him would make all of the difference in the possibility.

💥Bakugou:

“GOD DAMMIT! THE BRAT’S ON FIRE AGAIN, Y/N!!” You heard your husband screech from the other side of the house.

“WHAT?! ALREADY!?” You gave a groan in annoyance as you walked down the hall. You could already see light from the flames your son was probably swallowed up in in your living room. You shook your head in exasperation.

As soon as Bakugou spotted you coming, he threw you and expectant look, causing you to throw you hands on your hips as you chastised him, “Well, don’t just stand there looking at me! Grab the extinguisher!”

He immediately became defensive, “What do you think I am trying to do, you idiot! I can’t find it!” He roared back over your sons terrified screams.

“What do you mean you can’t find it?! We have one in every room now!” You screamed back as you picked up your son and hugged him close. The boy dropped something from his hand as you did so.

It was a blessing that you had just come back from work and had your fireproof hero costume on. You already had a full store of clothes that your young toddler had burned through. You patted him on his flaming back in a feeble attempt to soothe him. He continued wailing still.

Your poor baby! You knew he had your fire proof cells, but he was still terrified.

“Babe! Where’s that damn extinguisher!?” You called out.

“You must have moved it earlier this morning when he scorched your shirt!” He accused angrily.

“Oh crap. Well, grab the one from the kitchen, or playroom! And that was more than a scorch and you know it! My favorite blouse looked like a teenage bonfire,” You tried to defend yourself.

“Put me out mommy! Put me out!” Your son sobbed, clinging tightly to your chest as the flames raged around him, “we need ‘wata’!” Your heart broke a little at his hiccups and gasps,

“We can’t use water, baby,” your fire breathing quirk along side Bakugou’s oily nitroglycerin sweat resulted in a pretty terrifying combination for a small child who had a habit of setting himself on fire. The oily fire would only surge if you used water to extinguish it. That’s why you had special extinguishers made just for these occasions, “if DADDY FINDS AN EXTINGUISHER you’ll be okay! Remember? It doesn’t hurt.”

Bakugou suddenly burst back into the room, “I FOUND IT!” He screeched like a battle cry as you held your son an arms length away. Much like you often practiced, Bakugou flipped the nozzle of the red container and released the foamy continents as they sprayed all over your son.

You quickly calmed him down and cleaned him off as Bakugou ran to grab him some more clothes. The two of you worked like a well oiled machine as you swiftly dressed him and consoled him out of his sobs.

Your son eventually cried himself into a nap, meaning you’d have at least 2 hours to prepare for the next inevitable incident. You sighed as you slumped down onto the couch next to an already sprawled Bakugou, “What are we gonna do with this boy,” you shook your head.

“Train him how to use his damn quirk,” he huffed.

You sat up defensively, “We do!”

“Yeah, a few minutes a day,” he spat back.

“He’s a toddler, Katsuki, Jesus!” your face upturned.

“Tell him that! He’s the one spontaneously combusting!” he loudly argued, “Besides, he’ll be four in like a month.”

It was a rare occurrence that he obtained his quirk so early. The two of you hadn’t expected it for years.

But doctors theorized that quirks would soon come earlier in age as their power grew— your son might just be among the first of a new era. Different things like diet, stress, activity could all also trigger the quirks to come sooner.

“Well the doctors said his outbursts could be stress related!” Your face shriveled. You weren’t so ignorant to think that yours and Katsuki’s interactions weren’t stressful for a small child. It’s not that you guys weren’t happy together. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Loud and passionate was just the dynamic that the two of you shared, but your son was gentle and nervous somehow. Much like your brother. You shook your head as guilt ate away at your heart, “God, only three years in and we are messing him up already.”

“He’s not fucking messed up!” Your husband argued “He’s perfect!” He announced proudly. This sent a wave of happiness into your heart.

You never really expected Bakugou to be the doting father type, but he had pleasantly surprised you the past few years at how passionate he was about raising your son. Of course there were times where you would question his harsher parenting methods, but all in all, he was a very good, supportive, present father.

You looked up at him proudly, “Yeah,” you agreed with a soft smile.

“Plus, I fixed our plush toy issue,” your husband huffed, “that probably why he was easier to calm the hell down than usual.”

“Our… what?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You really didn’t notice? Are you fucking serious?” He sounded almost hurt, “You said he get’s even more worked up when he’s upset about melting or destroying his toys during his tantrums. So I fixed that problem,” he pointed to the scorched carpet in front of you and that’s when you noticed a small, unscathed plush doll.

Your heart melted. It was a little cute Ground Zero doll! “Oh! Wow! How long has he had that?!” You excitedly exclaimed as you bent down to pick up the fluffy Bakugou.

“I just had the agency brand them yesterday. It’s a fireproof prototype,” he gruffly explained nonchalantly. You immediately leaned over to him to give your thoughtfulness sweetheart of a man a kiss but he harshly threw his face away from you so you only caught his cheek.

All these years, and he still hated affection, “Whatever,” you huffed, “I have a new man anyway,” you teased, causing him to angrily whip his head back towards you, only to see you placing a kiss on the small plushie.

“YOU ARE SO FUCKING WEIRD, YOU KNOW THAT!?!”

Suddenly you heard an explosion coming from your sons room, followed by familiar terrified wails, “MOMMYYY! PUT. ME. OUUUUUUT!”

Both you and Bakugou sighed before you angrily punched him on the arm for his loud mouth.

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