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lila-lou · 1 month

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✨ His only exception - Pt. 13/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, soft Ben

Word Count: 5442

A/N: This is part 13 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"So, how are things going with you and Ben?", she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. "You two seem to be getting along really well again, especially since you guys came back from vacation".

You flashed Annie a smile, trying to sound nonchalant as you replied, “Oh, you know how it is. We just talked, drank, and had fun while we were in Brazil”. Annie nodded, but her eyes betrayed a knowing glint as she continued, “And what about that little crush you had on him a few weeks ago? Seemed like there was something more going on”.

You felt a pang of panic, hoping Ben was too engrossed in the conversation with Butcher to overhear.

“Oh, that?”, you said, trying to brush it off. “Just a silly little crush, nothing serious”.

As Annie and Kimiko exchanged glances, Kimiko raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. Sensing your confusion, you sighed, asking her silently, "What?".

In response, Kimiko signed a few quick gestures, her hands moving with precision and clarity. Though you were still learning sign language, you understood her message clearly: he's not a good guy, and you shouldn't have a crush on him.

Her words struck a chord.

As Ben’s gaze lingered on you from afar, his ears caught every word of your conversation with Annie and Kimiko.

Meanwhile, Annie turned to you, her expression solemn. “Kimiko’s right, you know”, she said softly. “You shouldn’t let yourself get too caught up with someone like him”.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Someone like him? Like what?”, you asked, crossing your arms as you waited for their explanation.

Again Annie exchanged a meaningful look with Kimiko before speaking again. “Someone who’s… complicated”, she replied carefully. “You know he’s not the easiest person to deal with”.

Kimiko nodded in agreement, her expression serious. “He’s dangerous”, she signed, her hands moving swiftly to convey her message. “You should be careful”.

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. “He never hurt me”, you insisted, feeling the need to defend Ben, despite all the warning signs.

Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “Well, not on purpose maybe”, she countered, her tone tinged with concern. Kimiko’s hands moved, “He’s just a massive red flag”.

“He’s got PTSD, he’s never sober, always on coke, and let’s not forget, he’s a fucking misogynist”.

"I know," you admitted quietly, your gaze drifting back to Ben.

Annie sighed, her expression softening with concern. "Just be careful, okay? You shouldn't catch any kind of feelings for him", she warned, her tone gentle but firm.

You scoffed, feeling a pang of frustration. "I know he's not perfect, but he's not a bad guy", you insisted, though doubt lingered in your mind.

Annie's expression grew serious. "Remember his short temper and his aggressive mood swings", she reminded you, her voice low. "his lack of empathy and emotions. He's not capable of loving someone".

As Annie’s words sank in, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease creeping over you. Despite your conflicted feelings for Ben, the reality of his volatile nature and emotional detachment weighed heavily on your mind. Before you could respond, Kimiko signed to you, “You could literally easily die. Since you’re just a human, Ben could crush you at any time with ease”.

You sighed, trying to dismiss the heaviness of the conversation. "Let's just drop it", you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I don't have any feelings for him, and I never will".

You hoped your words sounded convincing, but deep down, you knew they were a lie. However, unbeknownst to you, Ben overheard your declaration from afar, a dark look crossing his features as he listened.

Annie couldn’t shake her concern for you, her eyes still filled with worry as she turned back to you. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt”, Annie said softly, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

“I know”, you replied quietly, feeling the weight of her words.

Annie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her gaze filled with compassion. “Soldier boy could never give you what you need”, she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

As Ben sat amidst the discussion with Butcher, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Emotions swirled within him, a turbulent mix of frustration, insecurity, and a hint of longing. He couldn't bear the thought of you thinking poorly of him, but he was at a loss for what to do.

From the kitchen, you glanced over at Ben, your gaze lingering on him for a moment. But Ben, determined to maintain his facade, pretended to be engrossed in the conversation with Butcher, his expression carefully neutral.

Unknown to you, his heart ached with the desire to reach out to you, to reassure you that he wasn't as bad as you might think. But his pride and his own internal struggles kept him rooted in place.

Annie caught your gaze lingering on Ben, and she shot you a knowing look, her expression tinged with sarcasm.

"Sure thing", she muttered sarcastically, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Not catching feelings at all, huh?".

You felt a flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks, but you quickly averted your gaze, unable to meet Annie's knowing eyes. Deep down, you knew she was right, but admitting it was another matter entirely.

As everyone got ready to eat, you busied yourself with setting the table, focusing on the task at hand to distract yourself from your swirling thoughts.

Just as you reached for the salad on the kitchen counter, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could react, Ben's voice whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want you in my room later, when everyone's asleep", he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You tensed at his words, a rush of anticipation mingled with apprehension flooding through you. Glancing over your shoulder, you met his gaze briefly before nodding in silent agreement.

Annie glanced over at you and Ben but didn’t notice the subtle gesture of intimacy exchanged between you. Ben’s gentle touch as he brushed over your lower back went unnoticed by anyone else as he smoothly made his way to the table to join the rest of the team.

As you sat down beside Ben, your thoughts raced with a whirlwind of questions and uncertainties. The subtle touch from earlier lingered in your mind, adding to the anticipation of what might unfold later that night.

Across the table, you noticed Butcher's sharp gaze fixed on you, a flicker of curiosity evident in his expression. You quickly averted your eyes, feeling a surge of discomfort under his scrutiny.

You helped yourself to some food, your mind buzzed with thoughts of Annie and Kimiko's warnings. Their words echoed in your mind.

As everyone fell into small talk, the atmosphere around the table became relaxed, but Ben remained his usual quiet self, showing little interest in engaging with anyone else except you. Similarly, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, exchanging occasional glances with Annie whenever Ben's eyes were fixed on you.

Despite the casual chatter around you, a tension lingered in the air, palpable in the way Ben's gaze seemed to follow you, his attention solely focused on you amidst the distractions of the dinner table.

As you felt Ben's knee nudge yours under the table, you looked up at him, but he didn't raise his gaze from his plate. Instead, his hand found its way onto your thigh under the table, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You shot him a questioning glance, but he remained focused on his food.

Despite your expectations, Ben's touch remained surprisingly innocent. His hand simply lay on your thigh.

As you tried to make sense of his actions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mingled with confusion. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes about the complexity of your relationship with Ben.

About an hour later you found yourself in the midst of self-defense and fighting practice with MM and Butcher, the adrenaline pumping through your veins masked the lingering tension from dinner. Despite the physical exertion, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the earlier conversation and the anticipation of what awaited you later with Ben.

MM's voice cut through your thoughts, breaking your concentration. "Focus, kid", he said firmly, his tone demanding. "You need to keep your guard up".

You nodded, refocusing your attention on the task at hand. "Right, sorry", you replied, determined to prove yourself amidst the flurry of punches and kicks.

Butcher chimed in, his voice gruff but encouraging. "Good effort, lass. Keep at it, and you'll be holding your own in no time".

But as your thoughts swirled with images of Ben, you lost focus again, failing to anticipate Butcher's next move. Before you knew it, his fist connected with your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Oi! Pay attention, will ya?", Butcher barked, his tone gruff but not unkind as he offered you a hand up.

As you struggled to regain your footing, Butcher’s voice cut through the haze of embarrassment. “Seems like your mind’s elsewhere, lass. Can’t afford that when you’re in a fight”.

You accepted his hand gratefully, shooting him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Butcher. Just got a bit distracted”, you admitted, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Butcher’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held a hint of amusement. “Well, keep your head in the game, or next time it might be a bit harder”, he warned, his tone gruff but encouraging.

Meanwhile, Ben stood in the doorframe, his smirk widening as he watched the exchange. He couldn't resist adding his own commentary. "Seems like someone's got no practice in anything", he teased, hinted at your recent loss of virginity without outright saying it.

You felt a flicker of annoyance at his comment, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you shot back with a defiant glare. "You want to talk about practice? Maybe you should switch with Butcher, and I'll whip your arrogant supe ass instead", you retorted.

Butcher chuckled, while Ben's smirk only widened. "Touché", he replied, his tone amused as he sauntered into the room, ready to join in on the training session.

"I'd love to see you try", Ben taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

"Bring it on", you challenged, your pulse racing with anticipation.

As Ben walked past you, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips, MM and Butcher exchanged a glance, their eyebrows raised in silent communication.

MM muttered under his breath, "This is gonna get messy".

Butcher nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he watched the tension between you and Ben unfold.

Ben stood casually across from you, his attire relaxed in sweatpants and a black hoodie. He seemed unimpressed by your challenge, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart", he taunted. "You really think you can take me on?".

"Watch me".

Ben chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked you up and down. "I like a bit of fight in a girl", he replied. "But let's see if you can back up that little attitude of yours”.

Ben's smirk widened as he met your defiant gaze. "Don't say I didn't warn you", he said. "I won't go easy on you”.

You met Ben's gaze head-on, the challenge sparking between you like electricity. "I bet, old man", you shot back.

Butcher cleared his throat, his tone stern as he addressed Ben. "Remember, mate, she's just a human. Keep those supe powers in check", he warned, his gaze flicking between the two of you. Ben shrugged off Butcher's warning with a cocky smirk. "I'll play nice", he replied, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. "At least until she gives me a reason not to".

The sparring began, and you moved with agility, trying to anticipate Ben's every move. But no matter how fast you were, he was always a step ahead, effortlessly blocking each of your strikes with precision.

As the fight continued, the tension between you grew palpable. At one point, Ben caught you off guard, his strong arms wrapping around you from behind as he blocked another of your moves. You could feel the heat of his body pressed against your back, his breath warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Despite the intensity of the moment, there was an undeniable thrill in the closeness of your bodies, the adrenaline of the fight mingling with a different kind of arousal. Ben found it incredibly hot that you were trying to fight him, his own desire flaring as he held you tightly against him.

Ben’s breath grew heavy against your ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “You’re feisty, I’ll give you that”, he murmured, his tone teasing and flirtatious.

You gritted your teeth, determined to push through the distraction and maintain your composure.

As Ben's arm tightened around your neck, you reacted instinctively, sinking your teeth into his flesh. With a sharp intake of breath, he loosened his grip, giving you the opportunity to break free.

Seizing the moment, you launched yourself at him, catching him off guard and managing to throw him to the ground. But in the heat of the struggle, you ended up straddling his lap, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked down at him, a mix of triumph and uncertainty in your eyes.

Ben's gaze met yours, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration. Despite being momentarily overpowered, there was a glint of respect in his eyes as he looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ben's hands gripped your hips firmly, you couldn't help but feel the light pressure of his erection underneath you, sending a shiver down your spine. His grip tightened, almost crushing, but it only added to the rush of arousal coursing through you.

Ben seized the opportunity to roll you over, quickly reversing the position. Now, he knelt above you, his hand tight around your neck, asserting his dominance. With a smirk, he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Looks like I've got you right where I want you, sweetheart. You always did have a knack for getting yourself into trouble".

As you struggled beneath him, Ben's firm grip held you in place, his dominance undeniable. Despite your efforts to break free, his strength was overwhelming, leaving you pinned beneath him. With a defiant glare, you tried to push against his hold, but it was no use.

Ben's smirk only widened as he maintained his control over you. Meanwhile, Butcher, who had been observing the exchange with a critical eye, couldn't hide his disapproval. "Oi, enough of that, mate", he interjected gruffly, stepping forward with a stern expression. "Keep your eyes off her, she ain't some bloody toy for you to play with".

Ben's smirk faltered slightly at Butcher's interruption, but he didn't release his grip on you. Instead, he met Butcher's gaze with a challenging glare of his own, the tension between them palpable. With a snarky smirk, Ben quipped, "Someone's feeling a bit overprotective today, aren't they, Butcher?".

Butcher's jaw tightened at the remark, his expression stern as he stepped closer to Ben. "I ain't being overprotective", he retorted firmly. "I'm just reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You may be invincible, mate, but she isn't".

With an eye roll, Ben finally released his grip on you and offered his hand to help you up. However, his tug was way too strong, causing you to stumble against his chest as you regained your footing.

"Easy there", he chuckled, his tone light but tinged with amusement as he steadied you.

You shot him a playful glare, rubbing your sore arm where his grip had been particularly tight. "You could've been more gentle, you know", you muttered, unable to hide the hint of annoyance in your voice.

Ben merely shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm a soldier, sweetheart. If I fight, I fight", he teased, his tone unapologetic.

You rolled your eyes at his cavalier attitude.

MM chimed in with a sigh, his voice carrying a note of exasperation. "You're just getting too distracted", he remarked, his tone firm but not unkind.

Ben, unusually serious for once, nodded in agreement. "He´s right", he added, his gaze meeting yours briefly. "Against any supe, there's no time for distractions".

You bristled at the criticism, feeling the weight of their expectations bearing down on you. "It was my first damn practice session", you retorted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Cut me some slack".

Despite your defiant tone, there was a part of you that couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were right. You needed to focus if you were going to stand a chance against any real threats.

Butcher approached you, his hand came to rest gently on your lower back, a silent gesture of reassurance. "Hey, not bad for your first go", he said, his tone gruff but approving. "You just need to work on keeping your focus, that's all".

You nodded, grateful for his encouragement.

Meanwhile, Ben's gaze flickered to Butcher's hand on your lower back, a surge of possessiveness stirring within him. He clenched his jaw, a brief flicker of jealousy crossing his features, but he quickly pushed it aside, not wanting to make a scene.

As Butcher and MM began to leave the room, Ben lingered behind for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. With a subtle nod to Butcher, he indicated that he would follow shortly.

Once they were out of earshot, Ben turned his attention back to you, his expression unreadable. "You did alright", he remarked, his tone casual but tinged with a hint of something else.

You met his gaze, feeling a mixture of relief and tension in the air. "Thanks", you replied, your voice slightly hoarse with emotion. "Guess I still have a lot to learn".

Ben's lips quirked into a smirk as he took a step closer, the air between you charged with an undeniable energy. "Don't worry", he said, his voice low and teasing. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two".

As the evening wore on and everyone settled into sleep, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your options. Unsure of what Ben wanted from you, you decided that your grandma panties would be better left in the closet.

Examining yourself in the mirror, you opted for something a little more alluring, selecting a pair of underwear that hugged your curves in all the right places. As you slipped them on, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mingled with nervousness.

You approached Ben's room with cautious steps, the anticipation building with each quiet footfall. As you pushed the door open, you found him sitting shirtless on his bed, a joint dangling from his fingertips while he scrolled through his phone.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated his features, casting shadows across his chiseled chest. You hesitated at the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. With a deep breath, you entered the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

Ben looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in your appearance. His gaze lingered on you with a mixture of amusement and desire, sending a shiver down your spine.

"What are you waiting for?", he asked, his voice low and husky. "C´mere."

His invitation was both a command and a plea, and you felt yourself drawn to him irresistibly. With a nervous smile, you approached the bed, anticipation building with each step.

As Ben set his phone aside, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. He sat up slightly, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively.

"You look good", he murmured.

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment, the warmth spreading through you at his gaze. "Thanks".

As Ben pulled you onto his lap, his hands firm on your hips, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mixed with nervousness. Despite the intimacy of the moment, he didn't make any further moves, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking.

You shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position on his lap, the tension between you palpable. "What are we doing?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what to expect next.

As Ben brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, a shiver ran down your spine. His fingers lingered for a moment, his gaze locked with yours, before he spoke.

"Just sit still", he murmured. Despite the simplicity of his words, there was an underlying intensity that made it impossible to disobey.

You complied with his command, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his eyes tracing every curve and contour of your body. Despite your efforts to suppress the nervous fluttering in your stomach, the intensity of the moment was undeniable.

Ben's hands remained firm on your hips, his touch both possessive and reassuring. "Good girl", he murmured, his voice low and tinged with satisfaction. "Just like that".

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heartbeat as you focused on maintaining your stillness. With Ben's eyes on you, every moment felt charged with anticipation, each passing second heightening the tension between you.

"You know, I could make it even more enjoyable for you if you'd let me", Ben whispered, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

Despite the ache throbbing between your legs, you refused to let on to Ben about your discomfort. With a forced smile, you brushed off his suggestion, trying to conceal the twinge of pain that shot through you with every movement.

"I'm fine", you replied, your voice strained as you shifted slightly on his lap.

Deep down, you hoped he wouldn't press further, unwilling to admit to the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface.

Ben's lips curled into a knowing smirk as he observed your strained expression, well aware of your attempt to downplay your discomfort. His usual indifference softened slightly as he decided to play along, his tone laced with teasing amusement.

"Sure you are", he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. "You're not fucking sore at all, are you? All that fighting practice must have toughened you up".

You simply shook your head.

Ben leaned back slightly, studying your expression with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “Alright, tough girl”, he teased, his tone light but his eyes searching yours. “If you say so”.

Despite his teasing, there was a subtle warmth in his gaze, a silent reassurance that he was there, even if he didn’t verbalize it. He wanted to prove to you, in his own way, that he wasn’t as callous as others perceived him to be.

You met his gaze with determination, refusing to let your discomfort show. “I’m fine”, you insisted, your voice firm, now pushing aside any sign of weakness and pain.

“So, if you’re really not sore”, he began, his tone suggestive, “You up for another round?”.

Your cheeks flushed at his bold question, but you held his gaze steadily.

Seeing your flushed cheeks, Ben couldn't help but feel a surge of amusement mixed with a tinge of curiosity. "Come on", he urged, his tone coaxing. "You can tell me how you really feel. I won't bite".

You hesitated, torn between wanting to maintain your facade of strength and the desire to be honest with him. After a moment of internal struggle, you sighed, conceding to his persistence. "Okay, fine", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I'm a little sore".

Ben's smirk softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "There, was that so hard?", he teased, his touch light against your skin. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you", he winked.

As Ben's hands traced lazily over your hips, slipping under your top and skimming along your sides and back, you couldn't help but shiver at the sensation of his touch against your soft skin.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingertips dancing lightly over your curves as if exploring every inch of you. "You're so soft", he murmured.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the fluttering in your stomach as his touch sent tingles of electricity coursing through you. "Ben", you whispered, your voice barely a breath as his hands continued to explore your body.

Ben's touch lingered on your skin, his fingers tracing the bruises on your hips with a mix of curiosity and guilt. "I won't fuck you", he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "But touching should be allowed".

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions wash over you. Despite his insistence on not taking things further, the heat of his touch ignited a fire within you, a primal desire that threatened to consume your self-control.

His gaze met yours as he traced the marks on your skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you", he admitted quietly. "I guess I underestimated my strength".

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in as you struggled to find the right response.

Ben’s touch softened as he spoke, his fingers stilling on your skin as he met your gaze again, this time with sincerity.

“I’m not a bad guy”, he began, his voice quiet but earnest. “But I’m not exactly good either. I’m just… not used to every situation like this”. He paused, his gaze flickering to where his fingertips lingered on your skin. “Especially when it comes to…”, he trailed off, gesturing vaguely to you, unable to find the right words.

Your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his eyes stirring something deep within you. "When it comes to what?", you asked softly, your curiosity piqued as you searched his eyes for answers.

Ben hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "When it comes to… you", he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't… I'm not good at this", he added, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right way to express himself without sounding vulnerable.

Despite knowing you shouldn't push Ben too much, your curiosity got the better of you. You were beyond curious about what he was trying to say.

"About me?", you pressed gently, hoping he would open up further.

But Ben's expression hardened slightly, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes. "Forget it", he muttered dismissively, his tone tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "It doesn't matter".

Before you could press him further, Ben cut you off by leaning in and kissing you with such passion that it took your breath away. The intensity of his kiss made you feel like you were soaring, momentarily distracting you from your questions and uncertainties.

As Ben turned you both, his body hovering above yours, he deepened the kiss before trailing his lips along your jawline. Between kisses, he murmured, "You know I was patient with you, right? I didn't rush you when we… you know".

His words were soft, almost pleading, as if he wanted to convince you that he wasn't as bad as Annie and the others insisted.

As the intensity of the moment enveloped you both, your voices turned into whispers, matching the intimacy of the scene. Ben's hands traced softly along your sides, his touch gentle yet electric as he continued to pepper kisses along your jaw.

"I know I can be a handful", he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "But I've always been patient with you, haven't I?".

His lips continued their featherlight exploration over your skin, tracing every contour of your face and neck with painstaking slowness. The sensation was intoxicating, consuming your senses entirely.

With a soft sigh, you whispered in response, your voice barely above a breathy murmur, "You have…always been patient".

As his lips lingered against your skin, he paused for a moment before lifting his head slightly to meet your gaze. "I always made you feel good, right?", he asked, his voice low.

You met his gaze, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming as you whispered back, "Yes, Ben".

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Good", he murmured, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Ben's hands gently cradled your face, his touch tender yet possessive. Between breathless moments, he whispered, "You know that Blondie and the rest just hate me? I would never hurt you".

His words sent a jolt through you, realizing that he had overheard your conversation earlier. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his vulnerability hung in the air, a silent plea for understanding.

With a hint of possessiveness, he continued, his voice laced with urgency, "They don't know you like I do. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you".

His words resonated with a protective edge, revealing a side of him you hadn't fully seen before.

With a determined edge to his voice, he added, "When I'm on that mission for the next two weeks, I need to know you're safe. And I don't want any other man near you, understand?".

With a hint of shyness, you asked, "But why? We're not together".

"I won't touch you ever again if anyone else does", he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Ben's lips curled into a smirk as he added, "And trust me, sweetheart, you wouldn't want to see me angry if someone else lays a finger on you".

"And just so we're clear", Ben continued, his voice low and possessive, "this pretty pussy is mine now. Got it?".

As Ben's lips trailed down your neck, he sucked lightly on your skin, urging you to answer with a low, demanding growl.

"Tell me", he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire. "Whose pretty pussy is it?".

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Yours", you finally whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart.

Ben's lips curved into a satisfied smirk against your skin as he heard your response. "That's right, doll", he murmured. "All mine".

Ben's smirk turned into a mischievous grin as he leaned back slightly to meet your gaze. "And since you're too sore for me to fuck you properly", he teased, his voice low and suggestive, "I'm gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours so good, you won't be able to think about something else for the next two weeks".

As Ben's lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake, a shiver of anticipation ran through you. His touch was electric, sending tingles of pleasure dancing along your skin.

You let out a soft sigh as his lips hovered just above the waistband of your shorts, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ben", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with desire. "Don't worry, sweetheart", he whispered huskily, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm gonna make you forget everything but me".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 14

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @kaz11283 @uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mostlymarvelgirl @meowmeowyoongles

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher

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jaykaysthicthighs · 2 months

Text

The Path Of A Singer | JJK

excerpt | the appearance of your old lover pops up on tv, and the horrible memories showed itself once again.

genre | heavy angst, cheating, abuse, minor fluff

rating | 18+

warnings | strong language, present & past, toxic relationship, mental & physical abuse, jk cheating, panic attack, alcohol and drug consumption, lots of crying, heartbreaking conversations, jk being vile, lots of yelling, jk manhandles the reader, mention of abusive father, mention of ptsd, reader being selfless (you might not agree with the decisions she's made, but don't hate her; she's a broken person), maybe more

wc | 4K+ (very short)

notes | it's been a hell of a long time since i wrote and posted anything....!!!

my inspiration came from watching the movie insidious: the red door lol. the reason for the mature rating is because of the strong language, the heavy conversations said, and the talks of alcohol and drugs. i want to say that i'm not romanticizing this type of relationship or the behaviors of the characters, i'm just making a story that maybe some people might have gone through. sometimes the decisions made or thought of does not make you a bad/horrible person. everyone had a reason good or bad; you just have try to be understanding. i also tried to make this as heartbreaking as possible, but for some reason i feel like it's not. hopefully it does pull some heartstrings for you guys.

You finally arrived home after an exhausting day of work. Your roommate wasn't home yet, so, luckily for you, you're able to binge eat without the concerned eyes of your friend watching you.

You walked your way to the kitchen and made yourself some sandwiches, you also grabbed some water on the way to the living room. When you made it to the couch, you plopped down heavily. You grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the channels. You came across a channel that was showing a music festival, and without thinking about who might be performing you clicked on it.

The first performer was a group called XG. As they were performing, you happily ate while vibing to their songs. At one point, you started singing as well, not caring that you still had some food in your mouth. If the neighbors were able to hear you, they would probably think someone is dying - yelling for help.

When you finished, you got up put away your dishes, and made your way to your room to change your clothes. As you were changing, you felt a bit lonely. You and your friend don't have any pets, no companion to keep any of you guys company. You exited your room with a simple sweater and shorts.

You made it back to the living room with a content expression on your face, unfortunately, it wouldn't last long. As you were about to get yourself situated on the couch, you looked at the TV screen, and the one person you never wanted to see again was singing.

You fell to your knees with a hard thud, watching the screen with horrid eyes. It's been three years since you saw him. In those three years, you tried your damned hardest to avoid anything and everything that involved him in it. The pain he caused you still resides in your little heart.

You didn't realize but you started crying; the tears rapidly falling. Your body started shaking; the little goosebumps displaying your skin. Your chest felt heavy like a huge wave crashing on you, and the water is rising up into your nose, making it hard for you to breathe. You felt like you were suffocating, and the lack of air was making your head light; dizziness taking its place.

On the outside, you were frozen, but on the inside, you were trying to claw your way out. You felt like you were scratching every surface of your body, but you weren't moving an inch. Your brain was screaming for help, but the only thing leaving your mouth was the hardness and unstableness of your breathing. Right now, you were wishing for your friend to come home right now and save you.

Three Years Ago

You were in your car driving your way to your boyfriend. Jungkook's manager called you demanding that you come and pick him up. You don't really know what happened, but from how his manager sounded, you were thinking that he got himself drunk and high again, causing thoughtless actions.

Not too long ago, Jungkook was able to get into his dream record label. After years and years of hard work, passion, and dedication he was able to pursue his dream. What you didn't realize is that with Jungkook getting to follow his dream of being a singer, he would soon lose his sense of self. In just two weeks he was starting to drink, and in another week, he started experimenting with drugs.

As time went on, so did your patience. You would try and try to stop him - to help him, but every time Jungkook would stop your advances. Pushing you away and causing you pain made Jungkook feel superior, it made him feel proud that he reached a certain height in life.

Your guy's relationship now consists of yelling and crying. Jungkook started to mentally abuse you, but even so, you would accept it. You didn't have the strength to leave him - to leave the man you love since middle school. You couldn't leave the man who would write songs about you, the man who would wake up during dawn and make you a big breakfast, the man who would call you no matter the time, the man who would always tell you how much he loves you every second of the day. You didn't have the strength to leave him.

With all your anger, you finally made it to the studio in one piece. When you entered the building, the looks on the staff's faces were concerning you. One of the staff went up to you and told you to not go inside the studio. You looked at them judgingly and pushed your way through them, but they still tried to stop you.

"What is the problem? Let me through!" you yelled. They gave you a sad look and apologized, "I'm sorry ma'am, but Jungkook is very busy, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to go inside there." Your anger was boiling, steam coming out of your ears. "Sorry for yelling at you, but I don't fucking care if he is busy. Jonny called me saying that I need to pick this asshole up, okay? If you're worried about me finding out that he is high or drunk - even both, don't. This is not new to me."

The staff in front of you looked like she was on the verge of tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she got the chance, a disheveled woman left the room your boyfriend was in. You watched her with wide eyes as she left the building with a smile on her face. You stomped your way to the studio door ignoring the pleas from the staff. You pushed open the door causing a loud bang, startling the man recognized as Jonny.

Jonny swiftly got up and the first thing you noticed was the bloody nose. You walked your way to him digging in your bag grabbing some tissues for his nose. Gently placing it on him, you politely demanded, "Where is he, Jonny?" The man before you faced his eyes on the floor. "Jonny, you called me here, so, don't fucking hide anything from me. Where is he?"

The man took a step back letting the blood freely fall again. He shook his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. I've ruined everything." You gritted your teeth and threw the bloody tissue at his face. "Where the hell is he, Jonny?" you yelled.

A second later, Jungkook swung the bathroom door open with nothing but some sweats on. Your heart dropped from his appearance. It was evident that he had fucked the girl from earlier. You guys made eye contact, and you could tell immediately that he was high out of his mind. "Get out, Jonny," you said without looking.

When you heard the door shut, that's when you crumbled. Your eyes started blurring with the tears that were coming. Your body shaking with rage. You walked up to the fucked-up man and slapped him. "Why? Why? Why the hell would you do this to me?"

Jungkook harshly grabbed your wrists and laughed. He laughed like what you had said was something funny. You can smell the horrible alcohol leaving his mouth as he laughed. "Because it's fun, babe."

The pain rippled throughout your body. You snatched your wrists away and bellowed, "You're hurting me! You're destroying me! What does she have that I don't? I thought you loved me?" Jungkook towered over you; he grinned, "I don't love you." Your whole world died. Never had Jungkook spouted those words. It tore you limb from limb, slowly but surely. And that was all it took for you to call it done.

You were fine dealing with his hurtful ways. You were fine being the punching bag. But you were not fine being cheated on. Even with Jungkook in this fucked-up state, not once had he said that he didn't love you, and not once did he ever cheat on you. You felt lower than before, and you didn't want to feel like that. You knew that the moment he started doing drugs and drinking alcohol, the man you once knew would be gone. Still, you had hoped there might be a tiny sliver of him inside, but today proved - his words proved you wrong.

Your eyes hardened and your expression became stoic. Without trying to sound broken you seethed, "We are done! You fucking hear me? I am done with your shit - with everything!" As you walked your way to the door, Jungkook rushed in front of you and pushed you to the ground.

The wind got knocked out of you; you started bawling your eyes. For the first time, you were scared of the man before you. Jungkook locked the door behind him and dragged you by your feet. You tried kicking your feet, hoping that his release would loosen, and you could run away. But before you knew it, Jungkook locked you both into the soundproof booth.

When his grip on you was gone, you scurried to the corner of the booth shielding yourself with your bag. Jungkook walked to you and kneeled to your level. "Don't hide from me, baby." He gently grabbed your bag and tossed it to the other side of the booth. You closed your eyes; you couldn't see the monster of the man you love.

You felt Jungkook tenderly cupping your jaw. You trembled beneath his fingertips; quietly whimpering. It stayed like this for a few seconds until you felt his touch disappear. With your eyes still closed, you could hear Jungkook digging for something. You heard a rustling sound of a Ziplock bag. You knew better, you knew that he was using drugs right now.

"Open your eyes, ____," Jungkook demanded.

You didn't answer, you didn't move. This pissed off the man in front of you. He slapped you, making your body jolt, making your eyes open. You brought your hand to your cheek, tears threatening to fall. "See, it wasn't that hard?"

"W-what do you want... from me?" you stammered.

Jungkook seethed, "You can't leave me. I won't let you leave me. You owe me. All that money I spent on you, all those years I wasted on you - I want that back! And the only way you can pay me back is by being my bitch. You are fucking mine, ____!"

You finally let the tears fall again. Your whole body shook like lightning shooting throughout you. Shaking your head, you wailed, "No! No! No! Please! Don't do this to me, Dad! Stop hurting me!" For the first time today, Jungkook felt his senses come back. Your words panged his heart.

Your mother was never in your life. It was always you and your father, but your father was an abusive man. He would try to find any little thing to blame you for, just for him to lay his hands on you; from hitting, kicking, even to cutting. You had met Jungkook when you were thirteen years old, he comforted, protected, and helped you. When you finally turned eighteen, that's when you moved in with him - that's when you finally felt peace.

Jungkook cupped your face into place. He frantically said, "____, it's me. Your dad's not here. It's me, Jungkook." His touch burned you; you felt like dying. You mustered all your strength and pushed him away. You gripped your shirt and yelled, "No! You're not him! You're not Jungkook! You're a monster and I don't even recognize you!"

Monster... That simple word rang in Jungkook's mind. Monster... Such a terrifying word. If he was a monster, his reason would be because of you. Unfortunately, all the drugs and alcohol in his system weren't enough to keep him sane for one minute. Jungkook launched at you. His hands wrapped around your throat, choking you, but still letting you breathe.

You started clawing your nails on his bare arms. Digging deep that blood starts making its presence. But all that Jungkook could see right now was red. He couldn't feel the pain you were giving him; he couldn't hear the agony in your voice; he couldn't see your wrecked state. Red became his friend.

"You are the reason for my horrible being. You are the reason why I'm a monster. You bitch! If you hadn't kept pushing me to pursue this fucking career, I would've still been the same. If you hadn't been so loving and caring and supportive, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I can't believe that I fell in love with a disgusting person like you. I can't fucking believe that I let you take control of my whole being!"

Right when you were on the verge of passing out, Jungkook released his hold on you; he backed himself on the other side of the booth. You were catching your breath. Your hands shakingly touched your neck, throbbing against your frail fingers. You were painfully coughing; mentally asking God to help ease your pain. Your eyes went in and out of vision; red and black dots were the only thing in sight.

Jungkook watched you with dark eyes. He watched as you were struggling to regain your previous state. He watched as you were crying from the pain, he inflicted on you. He watched the one person who was always with him, the one person who loved and cared for him no longer be the same. He killed you, painfully and slowly.

Present

"____, look at me. It's okay. It's okay." Your friend Lia gently held your face in place. She called out your name, praying that you would settle. She watched as you were frantically breathing; your eyes looking everywhere but her; your body shaking like the room was freezing.

Your panic attacks rarely happen, but when they do, Lia feels so useless. She wished that she could help ease your pain, she wished that she had the power to prevent this. But all she could do was hold you and tell you that you're okay.

Minutes go by until you are finally back. "____?" Lia cautioned, "____, look at me. Are you okay?" As you looked at Lia, you could see the worried expression painting her beautiful face. You hated yourself for making her feel like this, but you couldn't help it. This feeling will never go away; it gets buried six feet under, but once he appears they come back.

"Lia," you whispered, "I saw him again... on TV." Lia took a deep sigh; she hated the pain he caused you before and now. She wrapped you in her arms, holding you with such care. The second you were in her arms, you broke. You cried and cried, loudly speaking your pain.

Lia felt her shirt dampen, but she didn't care. Whatever you do to her, she will take it all in, as long as you feel better in the end, Lia will gladly be your tissue, your enemy, your punching bag. Lia murmured against your hair, "I'm here. I will always be here." She held you tighter; she didn't want you to fade away from her.

You took deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You pulled away from Lia and made your way to the couch. You brought your knees up and buried your face in the space between. You hissed, "I hate what he does to me. He's not even here!" This time you whispered, "And yet, he's able to bring me down to my knees... scared."

Lia met you three years ago; months after your event. You were just a newly hired TA. When Lia first saw you, you looked like a girl who was barely keeping her life together. You told her beforehand - when you started room mating with her, that you have PTSD and that your panic attacks happen from time to time. You didn't really tell her the whole story, just that you were in a very abusive relationship and that you experienced something so terrifying. She accepted you with an open mind and open arms; from then on, Lia became your rock.

Lia got up and sat right next to you. She wanted to ask you a question, but she was scared that you would hate her or push her away for asking. But this question has been in her mind for a while now. After taking a few seconds thinking to think it through, Lia wiped her sweating palms on her pants and inquired, "____, if you don't mind me asking... why didn't you call the police on him? You should've, 'cause I don't think he should be performing after everything he's done to you."

Your eyes started getting blurry; you told yourself the exact same thing, but there was a reason. With your head still buried, you softly replied, "It's easier said than done, Lia. I wished I called the police on him - I wish I could call the police on him, but I can't. Because in simple words... I love him. I hate myself for loving him. Even after everything he has done to me, and everything he has said to me, I love him. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Lia felt herself invisibly jumping out of the couch. No way does she think you're a horrible person. You're just a person who's been through something horribly traumatic. Her heart was filled with so much pain for you. Lia positioned herself so she was facing your small figure, and expressed, "____, no way in hell are you a horrible person. Far from it! I won't be able to say that I relate or know what you're going through, because I don't. But I am able to say that I'll support you and understand your feelings and decisions."

You lifted your head but still kept your eyes on your knees; you muttered, "I met him when we were thirteen years old. He was a very shy and reserved kid - hated social interactions. I remember..." you quietly giggled without realizing when you were remembering the fond memories, "I remember when he used to make small mixtapes every anniversary with letters. He wasn't always a horrible person. He used to be kind, supportive, and loving. One of my favorite things about him was his selflessness towards me. I loved that he would always think about my needs, what I wanted, what I was thinking, and how I was feeling, but in turn, he did the opposite for himself. It was a blessing and a curse."

Lia looked at you and saw the small smile showing. This look was rare for you, and every time it made its appearance, Lia would always treasure it. "He must have been a great person for you to smile like that." You furrowed your brows; you turned to Lia with confusion. "What smile?" you questioned. Lia rolled her eyes, "Well, there's no smile anymore."

You took a deep sigh and apologized, "I'm sorry for talking about him. It's just - just talking about him in this light makes me happy and warm... even if it only lasts for a few seconds." Lia noticed that you started tearing up. Your face was slightly contorted with pain; you were trying not to cry, holding it in but it didn't work. Your tears were freely falling, and Lia comforted you once again. You quietly whimpered, "During that time I called him a monster, but really, I don't want to remember him as the monster in my life because at one point he used to be my prince who saved me from one. I try to think and talk about him in this beautiful light that he used to be under - I want to remember him as that, but the pain he brought upon me is too hard to ignore." You started wailing at this point, "It continues to haunt me, and I hate it! I want to hate him, but I can't! I can't!"

Lia felt herself crying for your pain. She felt herself slowly dying by your words. It truly kills her that her most precious and beautiful friend is going through so much pain. As you both cried into each other's arms, you could hear Lia continuously apologize through her cries. You were so grateful to have such an amazing person as her.

Once you were calmed down, you pulled away from the still tearful woman and wiped her tears away. "Don't cry anymore, Lia." you sniffled, "What happened to me - what's still happening to me would never be fully cured, but I know that whatever happens next, you'll be by my side, and slowly but surely, I won't be able to be to feel the pain anymore. Okay?" Lia nodded her head with a soft smile. You're right, as long as she's with you and as long as you are with her everything will be fine. You guys are each other's glue - each other's person.

There is no doubt in your mind that this pain will pass by. You don't know how long that will take, but until the day comes, having Lia with you eases your heart from pain as much as possible.

"You mailed her my letter?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

The tired man finished his show with a bang, and even though people enjoyed his performance, Jungkook couldn't seem to feel all that happy. For the past year since he finished his rehab, nothing has felt more depressing.

The morning of that night when he woke up, Jonny had told him that you had left, and he was to go to rehab immediately. He hated you for leaving, he hated that you left him in such a messy state. Jungkook blamed everything on you. Jonny had told the ill man that if it wasn't for you, everything that he had worked so hard on would go down the drain. At first, Jungkook didn't understand why you left or what Jonny was saying, but as time went on, he knew that everything was his fault. His addictions and his abusive behavior were all his fault. The reason for your disappearance was his fault. Your pain - everything was all him.

Jungkook knows that there will be no way for him to fix the things he has done and the things he had said, but even so, he would try his damn hardest to fix it. When he finished rehab, Jungkook made it a mission to send you a letter every week, telling you about his days throughout the week, how much he loves and cares for you, telling you how much he is so regretful. Deep down he knows that he is being selfish, he knows that he should let you go - let you move on, but the helpless man is stuck in the past. The past is what keeps him alive. The past is his only source of reason. Jungkook doesn't want to let go of that one thing he has left of you.

Jonny felt so much pity for the man, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't know your address. He would accept the letters, promising that he would mail them, but when night rolls around your letters would be burned. Jonny wanted to quit being Jungkook's manager, but you begged and begged for him to stay with the broken singer. You wanted Jungkook to at least have one person for him to lean on when things get hard. Jonny admires your strength - how strong of a woman you are, so, he agreed.

"You should just stop already, Jungkook. She's never gonna mail you back. I know your reason, but you lost her, and you can never fix that." Jonny was getting tired; tired of seeing the broken singer trying with no prevail.

Jungkook walked up to his manager and lowly whispered, "You think I don't know that, Jonny? Ever since I learned that everything is my fault... I knew that she would never come back to me. Yet I still hope - even if that hope is microscopic or nonexistent, I hope that I will be able to see or be with her again."

The fatigued man took a few steps back and lowered his heavy head down. His eyes searched the floor trying to keep his tears at bay, but it didn't work. The salty tears of this poor singer escaped and landed harshly on the wooden floor. Sniffling, the fatigued man uttered, "You think I don't know that you burn my letters?" Jungkook lifted his head up and saw the ashamed manager looking back at him.

He continued, "You're not as discreet as you think you are, Jonny. I went to your hotel room to ask for a favor... and I saw you burn my eighth letter with sadness swimming in your eyes. I connected the dots from there, and I realized that you never sent any of my letters because you don't know her address, huh? You're left in the dark like I am, huh? You know nothing about her whereabouts, about how she's doing, about anything, huh, Jonny!" The manager kept quiet; didn't know what to say.

Jungkook slumped down on the nearest chair with a hard thump. He leaned his head back with closed eyes and softly whimpered, "I now understand the meaning ‘You reap what you sow’… I'm never gonna stop. I know I can never fix this, but I promise you Jonny, I will never stop. Ten years - fifty years from now, I will keep writing her letters... knowing that deep down all of this is for nothing. I don't care if I'm shaming myself by doing this - I don't care about anything but her. She's not mine anymore but I'm forever hers. Let me live like this. Let me live with the consequences. Let me drown myself in this regret."

The destroyed man opened his eyes and gently moved his head to the side to see the lone figure of his manager feet away. With a deep sigh, Jungkook claimed, "You're just my manager, right? So, don't involve yourself in my pitiful life. Just do the job you were hired to do, along with getting my letters. Don't care what you do to them - burn them, keep them hidden, rip them up... doesn't matter, just don't let me know about it; let me falsely believe that you mailed them to her. Alright? Now please get the car... I wanna go home."

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whalyrae · 5 months

Text

DANCE WITH ME - CHAPTER 6

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”

Summary : All your life, you thought you were a beta, a simple and boring beta. Until everything change. But now that you've presented yourself as an omega, how will you manage to live and hide it from your six friends and best friend, all alphas and all in the same pack? (a/n : I'm a shit for summary I'm so sorry-)

Genre : soulmate au (of course I'm a bitch for this), omegaverse, bangtan alphas au!, omega reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 3k

Warnings : the usual one I guess, like smut, angst, fluff (yeah its a warning for some people ) mention of depression, abusive parents (physically and morally), violence and blood, PTSD, scars, self harm,…

Tag list : @ghostlyworld @kawaiikpoplover268 @scuzmunkie @iamkookiesforyou @00ihatesnaku @stellauniverse @akemiixx01 @aceofcards05 @strxwbloody @seoul9711 @amara-mars @alex-walker-86 @yoongicatcat @xicanacorpse

A/N : Remember me ? Ah, I'm so soooo sorry for the wait, really. I'll not vent again, I already did it last weeks. I'm sorry about the quality of the chapter too… it's not really corrected, there are probably lots of spelling, conjugation, syntax mistakes… I think I've lost the little writing talent I had, really, it's so frustrating :') With this writer block it hasn't really helped either… I can't put the ideas I have in my head into words, and it's getting on my nerves too much…!! Hope you'll like it though even a little, I'll do my best for the next one ! ♥ Thank you so much for all the love and attention you give to this story, you can't imagine how much it means for me !! ♥

Also I made a playlist for the story ! If you have any songs who made you think about the story, you can share it to me and I'll add it on the playlist !

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad | Spotify playlist

Chapter 5 // Chapter 7

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The room was silent after Jungkook's explanation. He and Yoongi had not waited to go to the oldest of the two's apartments where their partners were. Fortunately, since it was so late in the day, they were all there, and reunited in the same place.

Jungkook shared what he heard during your conversation with Wooyoung and Yeosang. When you said you were an omega.

Jimin was the first to react. Of course, he did.

“I can’t believe it…!” he exclaimed after a few seconds, “She’s my best friend… we’ve known each other since high school! If she were an omega, she would've told me! She can't have lied to me…”

Sitting between Hoseok and Taehyung, he brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs with a pout. He accepted Hoseok's embrace, who placed a kiss on his head.

The other boys stayed silent. Some of them were quite surprised to learn this, but Namjoon, Yoongi and Taehyung weren't so surprised to hear it, something inside them knew it, they just couldn't explain it.

"But that'd explain a lot..." Jimin added with a sigh, " she's quite... different recently..."

He obviously noticed the change in your behavior towards him recently. You were more distant and less tactile, and you tended to isolate yourself more in your room, whereas before, you spent all your free time with them, in one of their apartments.

At first, he thought that the classes and the dancing were exhausting you physically and mentally, like him. And knowing you, you tended to isolate yourself when you weren't feeling well. But it had never lasted as long as it did. He would never have thought that the reason behind it was... that you were an omega.

"We've all noticed it, I think," Jin replied, crossing his arms and looking thoughtful.

"But if she really is an omega," continued Jungkook, "why did she hide it from us? Would she be... afraid of us or something?"

The younger’s question left the room in silence. Everyone had heard about your misadventures with alphas, the behavior of your parents, and your brothers and sisters who were themselves alphas. And even though Jimin had always been the exception to the rule in your life, and now the other boys, you still had a certain reserve towards alphas. And that was as a beta. So, if you were an omega...

“It's not as if it matters anyway,” Namjoon affirmed, “whether she's a beta, an omega, or even an alpha, she's with us, she's part of the pack. But it's true that I'm wondering why she's hiding it from us.”

"Everyone has their wounds, scars, we all do, and we know that our little Y/N has some deep ones that haven't fully healed yet..." Hoseok spoke in a soft, understanding voice, stroking Jimin's hair in a protective, reassuring way.

"It takes time to gain someone's trust, even more so when someone has suffered mistreatment, abandonment, or physical and psychological violence." added Namjoon, crossing his arms.

Namjoon was right, and everyone agreed with him. For them, naturally, it didn't matter whether you were an alpha, a beta, or an omega. You were who you were, whatever your nature.

Everyone also knew what you'd been through with your parents, how they treated you, how they had treated you in the past.

None of them had ever said or done anything inappropriate to you, as they would to any of them.

This was the first time in your life since Jimin that you'd been treated like a real human being with respect and consideration, with no alpha, omega or beta stuffs behind it. You were simply Y/N. That was why you'd been able to open to them, to relax and feel at ease in their presence, but there was still a way to go, they were aware about that.

“It’s easy, we can just go and ask her." Yoongi stood up, ready to leave the apartment, "there's no point in speculating and making yourself feel bad," he continued, giving Jimin a gentle look, "I'm sure she'll be able to help us clear up this issue. She's the best person to tell us about it. "

Yoongi was the most impatient of all. But inside of him, he didn't want to admit that you had hidden something from them. Something that in one way didn't matter, but in another way did, more than they or even you realized.

“Wait hyung!” Jimin grabbed his arms to stop him. “Maybe it’s… something deeper than just a little secret she hides from us… If we go and find her now, she might panic, and things could go badly.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes but didn’t argue with him.

“I don't want to risk losing her... I couldn't bear that.”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair as he thought about how he'd felt when he'd seen you with San earlier in the day. Even though the interaction between you had been completely innocent, he had imagined you leaving him and his companions to go with him, Wooyoung, and their pack. This simple thought had given him a painful sensation in his lower abdomen that made him wince.

He knew you weren't interested in San, or Wooyoung, or anyone else for either (or so he thought). But despite everything, he still had this fear deep inside of him, of losing the people he loved.

"If you'd told her how you felt about her from the start you wouldn't be in this situation."

Jimin turned his head towards Taehyung, surprised and shocked by his words.

"Taehyung!"

"I'm totally right, Jin hyung! He already knows! We've already talked about it several times."

Jimin felt six pairs of eyes on him and shrugged. Yes, it was true that Jimin had confided in Taehyung several times about you. About his feelings for you that he'd kept deep inside him since high school, about his desire for you that only grew stronger with each passing day. More than once, Taehyung had tried to get Jimin to tell you how he felt, but without succeeding in convincing him.

To be honest, it wasn't really a secret that Jimin loved you and that you loved Jimin in return.

At least, it was obvious to everyone except both of you.

“Namjoon, Yoongi, and I were best friends too…” Jin giggled, “And here we are now.”

Namjoon chuckled and nodded. They had already talked about how they had become more than friends. A drunken evening together had been enough to loosen their tongues and open their hearts.

“We need to find a good way to figure out all of this,” concluded Hoseok, “and we should tell her, too. Everything.”

They all glanced at Hoseok. Some of them were tense, especially Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook. But Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon agreed with him.

“I don't know how you've done it, and I don't know how you've kept going all this time, Jimin,” Yoongi let out, stretching.

“Yeah, she's.... fuck I can't even describe it,” Namjoon muttered as he remembered what had happened between you and Yoongi a few weeks ago. In fact, it was that episode that had a triggering effect on him, on how he really felt about you. He also remembered noticing your change at that time, and that he would eventually get the answers to his questions.

Now he had them.

As for Yoongi, he didn't need all that to know that he felt an irrepressible attraction to you, the same as he felt for each of his companions.

They were all attracted to you. It wasn't the first time they'd talked about it, discussed a potential way to confess everything to you.

But how could they tell their roommate and beta friend that her seven alphas’ friends, one of whom had been her best friend since high school, all felt an attraction to her?

And what if her feelings weren’t mutuals to all of them?

“Listen…” Jimin began after few seconds, coming to his senses and straightening up, "I'll talk to her, let me talk to her first... but I need time to think about how to broach the subject, and with evaluations coming up..."

"Certainly Jimin, naturally." Namjoon replied in a gentle voice, moving closer to him and placing a kiss on his forehead, "whatever happens, you won't lose her. No one will lose anyone, I promise."

“But what do we do until then?” Asked Jungkook with a small pout.

“Well, I guess we had to wait, act normally, as we always have. We've been able to hold back all those months. Ah yes… years for you, Jimin.” Jin teased with a playful wink, ignoring the death gaze his boyfriend gave him, “we can hold back a little longer," he then affirmed with a nod, even if he was as unconvinced as his partners.

Their attraction to you was growing by the day. And the little encounter with Namjoon and Yoongi clearly showed that they were finding it harder and harder to contain themselves.

None of them wanted to lose you. And they would never, ever do or say anything to hurt you. They were all convinced that if you really were an omega, you had a good reason for keeping it from them until now.

°°°

You had no idea of the conversation going on upstairs, nor that Jungkook had heard a part of your call with Wooyoung and Yeosang. After hanging up with them, you left your room to go to the kitchen and get something to eat. Noticing that none of your Alpha friends were present in the apartment, you concluded that they had probably decided to spend the evening together. The idea pinched your heart somewhat. Of course, you couldn't blame them, they were together after all, you were just a friend to them (or so you thought). You didn't know why you felt this way. And you didn't like it. As if your life wasn't complicated enough as it was, with the sudden discovery that you were an omega that you didn't know how to handle or how to tell your best alpha friend without him thinking you'd been hiding it from him all these years. Losing him too... you didn't want to think about it. You didn't want to lose either of them.

One good news, however, was that there were currently no signs of potential heat. This gave you more time to think about how you would tell Jimin and the boys.

You didn't know when, or how they would show up, whether it would be like the first time, or not. But Wooyoung had reassured you that you'd feel the first symptoms coming on now that you were aware of your omega condition. With a sigh, you headed into the kitchen to prepare yourself something to eat. Tomorrow would be a busy day, as you and Wooyoung had planned to train for longer than usual, as the fateful date of the demonstration and therefore of the evaluation was next week, and you needed to keep up your strength.

You didn't have the energy or the mood to cook yourself an elaborate meal. Simple instant noodles would do. You were just going to add some meat and eggs to the preparation, nothing more.

It wasn't long afterwards, when you were waiting for the water to boil, leaning against the kitchen counter with your cell phone in hand, that you heard the front door open.

"Oh, you're back already?" you asked, noticing Jimin, Hoseok and Jungkook. "I thought you'd had a lovers' date or something."

Your tone had been sharper and colder than you'd expected. You felt your heart and stomach twist slightly. Your three friends who'd just returned didn't seem to notice though, and so much for the better.

"Not at all, with the evaluations coming up, we don't really have time for this sort of thing anymore!" replied Hoseok with a laugh, approaching her with his hands in his pockets, "what are you making? Instant noodles, really?"

Hoseok's tone seemed accusatory.

"Noona! You're a dancer! You need to eat better than that!" Jungkook exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes, chuckling and shaking your head.

"No time or energy to make me a real thing. Would you like some too? Or have you guys already eaten? Don't say no and then steal my food as you always do!"

You heard Jimin's laughter, quickly followed by Jungkook and Hoseok.

Then, suddenly, reality hit you. It hit you as if a boxer had just punched you in the face.

Your head turned towards them, there they were, simply doing the simplest thing in the world. Talking, laughing, joking. And yet, it was as if it were the most beautiful thing, the most melodious sound you'd ever heard.

Your eyes widened, you stopped breathing for a few seconds, and you just stayed still, staring at them. Your heart was racing fast, too fast.

Oh.

Thinking back, what you were feeling, at that very moment, why your heart was beating so fast when you were with one of them, when you were with Jimin, since high school. This desire to always be with one of them, this feeling of security, of well-being, of safety you felt in their presence. There were no doubts.

Wooyoung and Yeosang had explained it to you. At first, you hadn't really understood what he meant at the time (or you didn't want to understand it, you weren’t ready for that truth), but now everything seemed clear.

As if the fog in your heart and mind had finally cleared.

The attraction of an omega to an alpha, of an alpha to an omega, only worked if the feelings were there too.

It was simple, and logical. You felt a bit foolish.

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, drawing the attention of the three boys.

"Noona? Is everything all right?" Jimin asked, clearly worried.

You looked up at him and noticed with surprise that the water had probably been boiling for many minutes.

Jimin was standing not far from you, his beautiful brown eyes staring back at you. This simple eye contact between you had been enough to make your heart rate quicken again.

"Uh I... yeah, yeah everything's fine...!"

You turned to pick up the packets of instant noodles, noticing without much surprise that Jungkook had added two more.

Your intonation wasn't as confident as you'd hoped. You saw Jimin's gaze become more serious. He took a step towards you, making you take a step back.

You could feel his singular, distinctive scent invading you, as it had since the first day, you'd met in the high school dance club.

How could you not have noticed it before? How could you not have realized?

You were in love with your best friend.

You were in love with your best friend, and his companions, your friends.

Well, technically you'd realized it a few hours earlier when you called Wooyoung and Yeosang. But now, now that you were face to face with the people involved... now that you were confronted with the undeniable truth... things were different, totally different.

Your gestures were suddenly clumsier. You couldn't hide the fact that you were troubled for some reasons unknown to him.

To your relief, Hoseok and Jungkook were in the living room, seemingly focused on some program playing on the TV. But Jimin was still there, scanning you completely.

He was the one who'd known you best, for the longest time. He knew something was wrong, without really knowing exactly what.

How to tell him that in the space of a few weeks, you'd learned you were an omega, but on top of that, you'd just realized how you felt about him and your friends?

It was a lot to take in, to accept for someone who hadn't learned to express her feelings and emotions.

You had to calm down, not panic, not worry Jimin.

As for the last point, it was already a bit of a failure.

"Noona, please, talk to me..." he murmured, his hands resting delicately on your shoulders.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, resting your hands on his. They were so soft, you couldn't help but squeeze them, wanting to hold them longer.

You never wanted to let them go.

"I'm fine, just a little... stressed and tired, it'll get better after the evaluations, I promise."

Jimin didn't seem convinced, and you could read it on his face. You smiled at him and took him into your arms for a long hug, holding him tightly against you.

He seemed surprised at first, but eventually returned your embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and his head resting against your shoulder.

You made a decision. In truth, you'd made up your mind after your call with Wooyoung and Yeosang, but now you were sure and certain you wanted to do it.

After your evaluations, in less than two weeks, you'd confess everything to the boys.

... well, maybe not about your feelings for them. Not just yet, and maybe you never will. Never could your feelings be returned.

But you owed them the truth that you were an omega. You had an unspeakable fear of reliving the rejection you experienced with your family, but lying to your best friend, to your friends was worse than anything.

As you felt his warmth, his scent takes possession of your being, your body had relaxed.

"I'll always be with you Y/n, no matter what," Jimin murmured, his embrace around you tightening, and you couldn't contain the shiver as his breath brushed up against your skin, "you and me against the whole world, remember?"

He lifted his head, and you stared at him a few seconds before letting out a laugh. You hadn't heard those words since high school.

"Hey lovebirds, you're cute and all huh, but we're starving!”

"We're not lovebirds!" Jimin and you exclaimed at the same time, causing Jungkook and Hoseok, the one who spoke, to burst into hilarity.

You stepped back from Jimin and turned your back to him while he bickered with his two partners, mostly to hide your face and your blushes from them. You took the packets of noodles, the pre-cut meat, and the eggs. You put everything in the boiling water pan, taking long, slow breaths, trying to calm the pounding of your heart.

Damn it. Those guys will really be the death of you.

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xoxobuckybarnes · 2 months

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February 2024 Stucky Fics

Completed

Keystrokes and Music Notes (Rated: M, Words: 32K) by goblininawig / @goblininawig

Summary: Bucky is paying Steve for help tracking down his stalker. Nothing happens until something happens: Steve falls in love.

Mr. Brick Wall & Mr. Overshare (Rated: T, Words: 7K) by LilyElk13

Summary: Based on the Tumblr post that's like "half of college professors are like 'you can know nothing about me except my name' and the other half are like 'and that's why my wife left me! anyway what's up with y'all'" and the response "There were two professors like this in my department and I was one of like 20 people who was taught by both of them so there was a very small gang of us who knew that Professor Brick Wall and Professor Overshare were married with two kids." except in this it's high school teachers instead of college :)

A Company Man (Rated: E, Words: 75K) by mambo / @whtaft

Summary: It’s the way that Bucky smiles at Steve from across his desk. No, it’s the way that Bucky’s hand brushes Steve’s as they stand side by side in an elevator not crowded enough to justify their closeness. Or maybe it’s the whispered conversations every Saturday night, the way Bucky saves Steve’s number under a different name in his phone. No matter what it is, the truth is the same: Steve Rogers is in love with Bucky Barnes, a married man.

Rock You Like a Hurricane (Rated: E, Words: 112K) by CelticCross

Summary: Bucky Barnes is an author, he's written many books in his Winter Soldier series, starring Lloyd Hansen and Nick Fowler. He hasn't written a word worth writing in the past three months and his agent, Sam Wilson, forces him to take a break. Sam books him a rental beach house in a place called Plum Cove in Mass for three months, hoping to break him out of his writer's block. The owner, Steve Rogers, retired Plum Cove Police Captain, landlord and part time surfer is surprised to get such a lengthy off season booking but takes it anyway. He doesn't expect to spend a lot of time with the person renting his house, but then he wasn't expecting the storm to be that fierce.

Closing Time (Rated: M, Words: 10K) by RecoveringTheSatellites / @thisonesatellite & art by maichan /@maichan808

Summary: Steve works in a Brooklyn dive bar. A tall, guarded guy comes in to drink at regular intervals. He always sits in the back corner. Steve leaves him alone. He looks like a guy who deserves some peace and quiet. He does find out the stranger's name is Bucky. Finds out what he likes to drink. And little by little, conversation happens. Connection happens. Until one day a cock-flock of dudebros comes in (i made up cock-flock, but really, is that not their collective term) and the heckling goes up to eleven once they’re good and drunk. Bucky gets asked to take it outside. Steve will have none of that, thankyouverymuch. . A tale of love and hope in unlikely places, sprinkled with a bit of PTSD, and the occasional sarcastic quip.

Use Your Agency (Rated: E, Words: 15K) by romanticalgirl

Summary: Bucky is given the assignment (punishment) of being the agent whose job it is to integrate the newly-thawed Captain America into life in a new century. Only maybe it's not so bad. Because Bucky ends up dealing with Steve Rogers, who is nothing like the Captain America in Bucky's history books. From coming out of the ice through AoU.

Stay with Me (Rated: E, Words: 79K) by maikurosaki / @allegra-dreams

Summary: When Bucky Barnes accompanies his family to a ceremony dedicated to George Barnes' activity, he expects free food and drinks, the occasional boring speech, and watching his dad blush furiously as he gets to finally meet his childhood hero. What he doesn't expect is saving Captain America's life and getting shot in the process. What follows is a slow road to recovery, eating hospital food (still disgusting), making new friends (Avengers!!! Seriously, the Avengers!) and pining over Captain America (he won't comment on that). It sounds simple, but it really isn’t!

The Steadfast Soldier (Rated: E, Words: 12K) by danielosbourne

Summary: Bucky returns to Brooklyn to help his sister navigate a family crisis.

twelve twenty-five (Rated: E, Words: 43K) by burning_brighter / @burnin-brighter

Summary: “I have to say,” Winifred says, a mug of cocoa in her hands. “When you say you were bringing someone home, I thought you meant you were bringing a boyfriend. But I’m glad you brought Steve.” “Who says I’m not?” Bucky teases, laughing when Steve lets out an exasperated groan. “You two finally got your respective head out of your respective ass?” asks George, looking at Steve and Bucky intently. “No,” Steve says pointedly, “Bucky just thinks he’s so funny.” - Ever since they met, everyone assumed it was just a matter of time before Steve and Bucky became a thing. Ten years later and it has yet to happen. But when Bucky invites Steve to spend the holidays with him and his family in upstate New York, things start to change.

WIP

Every Me and Every You (Rated: M, Current Words: 38K) by deadto27 / @deadto27

Summary: Bucky Barnes is doing his best. He’s getting by after the blip, after Sam became Captain America, after Steve…well, it’s best he doesn’t think about that. The point is, his life is different now, and he’s trying his best. He just wishes the hollow feeling in his chest would go away.—–Bucky gets blinded by a bright light as the tear seems to implode in on itself and there’s an odd little jolt as the pulling stops, and then Bucky’s blinking, trying to get his vision right again as he loosens his grip on America.“You okay?” he checks, still squinting. He’s probably not blind, he thinks. It just feels like it right now.“I’m okay,” America tells him and he sees her nod shakily as his vision starts to clear, and he carefully lets go of her, seeing that she can support herself, hands pressing onto the floor next to her.“Uh…I don’t think I am,” says another voice, and Bucky turns his head so fast he might give himself whiplash. Because he knows that voice. He knows that voice better than any other voice on the planet and he’s missed that voice, so, so much.

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) (Rated: E, Current Words: 103K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary

Summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included.

#Stucky #Steve and Bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #fanfic #XOXOBUCKYBARNES' Stucky Fic Reading List #february reading list

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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{27} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader - Final

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 14,770

Warnings: The later half still needs to be edited, sorry! Mentions of past mental Illness: Anxiety, Depression, PTSD. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is!! The final part to book one!! Ahhhhhh!!! I can’t believe how far I've come!! Never did I expect such a simple one shot to turn into this, but here we are!! I really hope you all like this final chapter, I think it sort of rounds things out nicely and ends on a, quite literal, high note. Also, the two songs I highly recommend listening to during this part appear in the latter half of the fic. They are named when they come up, so I don’t want to spoil them here. I do highly recommend listening to at least the second one, as it is quite significant to the story and the characters. Anyways, enough of my ramblings lol, I hope you’ll all look forward to what book two has in store! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Part Twenty-Two - Twenty-Three - Twenty-Four - Twenty-Five - Twenty-Six - Mini Masterlist

A yawn escapes your lips as you slowly trudge your way down the hallway the very next day. You can hear the sounds of your slippers sliding against the floor with each step you take, bringing your hands up to rub the sleep from your eyes. Luckily, you managed to sleep much better last night. An ease settling over your mind enough so that you didn’t need to ask any one of them to influence your dreams. You also opted to sleep alone for the evening, stretching out on your bed as you relaxed into your covers..

Looks like that conversation yesterday really did help.

Walking into the kitchen, you freeze right in your tracks.

You blink. Once. Twice. Three times, before a lazy grin is tugging onto your features as you see three males positioned around the counter. All three sporting new hairstyles.

“Well, good morning to me,” you hum, taking in their appearances as they turn to look at you.

Both Seonghwa and San have returned to heads full of black hair. Where San’s is slightly longer in the back, the very ends a silvery blond underneath, Seonghwa has opted to give himself more of an undercut. The best part about the eldest’s cut is that when you get closer, you see a wave like design etched into the sides of his head, seeing as it’s pushed back for the moment. A fact which has you subconsciously stepping into his side to trace the design with your finger as you smile sleepily.

Even Jongho’s new head of fiery red hair suits him quite well, and you cannot help but to nod to yourself in approval of their choices.

“We take it you like the change?” Seonghwa chuckles, a shiver caressing his spine as he feels the tip of your finger ghosting along the side of his head.

“Oh, I more than like it,” you breathe, almost as if caught in a trance as he turns his wide eyed gaze towards you. “I love it.”

Three low rumbles of contentment reach your ears, smiles pulling onto all of their faces.

“Good,” a voice draws your attention to the open entranceway of the kitchen. “We’re glad.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the change in Yeosang’s appearance though. What once were long, bleach blond locks, now sit short, black strands that fall just above his eyes.

“Oh, wow,” you cannot help the gasp that escapes you, forgetting all about Seonghwa for a moment to meet Yeosang halfway in order to brush some of his newly cut hair out of his eyes.

You feel as if you’re caught in a daze, especially when both Yunho and Mingi walk in sporting newly dyed chestnut locks. Mingi’s hair is styled up and out of his face, while Yunho’s rests parted over his forehead.

Your lips part in awe, a small breath escaping you as you take them all in. Though, the final straw for you is when both Wooyoung and Hongjoong both appear before your very eyes.

Wooyoung still sports his skunk dye, the blond simply having been re-bleached for the moment. Hongjoong, on the other hand, sports newly blond locks, cropped short once again.

You place a hand over your heart, feeling it skip a beat beneath your fingers as you attempt to balance yourself on the counter.

“Warn me next time, fucking hell,” you purposely stare at the floor with wide eyes as you lean heavily onto the one arm you have supporting yourself on the counter. “Can’t wait to tell my mom I have eight handsome as fuck men trying to kill me all at once by simultaneously changing their hairstyles on me.”

Eight chuckles sound around the room, the hint of a pleased growl on each of their lips as they look towards you. Seonghwa even goes so far as to place his hand over your own still resting on the counter, offering you a touch of support as you attempt to wrap your head around their new hairstyles for the moment.

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest,” Yeosang steps in beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“We thought we should clean ourselves up a bit before meeting your parents,” San admits, flicking his bangs out of his eyes as he smiles at you.

“Though, we’re still not entirely done getting ready,” Yunho adds, a gentle smile on his lips as he walks over to your opposite side to place a kiss onto the side of your head.

“You guys already look incredible, I fail to see what else you’d have to do,” you take your time trailing your gaze around the room, glancing over each of them in time.

Another round of pleased growls reach your ears.

“Thank you, Darling,” Jongho grins, a subtle blush creeping up his neck as he absolutely revels in your praise.

“We just want to make sure we look our very best for when we meet your parents,” Hongjoong explains, a loving smile pulling at his features as he meets your gaze.

“We also enjoy looking our best for you,” Wooyoung grins, eyes crinkling at the sides with the honesty of his words.

A small heat rises to your cheeks as you avert your gaze bashfully.

In the next moment, you’re clearing your throat lightly. “So, do you all do your own hair, then?”

“We usually style it ourselves, but Hongjoong is usually the one that cuts and dyes it for us,” Mingi tells you, a knowing gleam shining within his eyes as he looks towards their Captain.

At the way your awe filled gaze turns towards Hongjoong, he cannot help but to smile shyly.

“We usually just tell him what we want, and then he works his magic,” Seonghwa grins, noticing how the younger male suddenly becomes bashful beneath your stare.

“That’s incredible,” the way your eyes shine, a hint of pride echoing within your words, has a blush dusting Hongjoong’s features, the tips of his ears turning red as he clears his throat. “You’re incredible."

“It’s nothing,” he attempts to brush off your praise, a small shrug to his shoulders.

“Like hell it is,” you continue to stare at him with wide eye, a large smile pulling at your lips. "My sister is going to love you.”

“You think so?” Never have any of the others seen Hongjoong so timid. At least, not like this.

“I know so.” You hum, shifting your gaze to Seonghwa in the next moment. “She’s also big on fashion, so you two will probably instantly get a free pass.”

“Should the rest of us be worried, then?” Yunho jokes, a grin tugging onto his features.

“She can sometimes be more intimidating that my dad, so…” you trail off, raising your own brow teasingly. “But that’s if she and Vasco actually show up.”

Just like you said you would, you did manage to call your mother yesterday. Only, she didn’t let on if your sister and her husband were coming over for dinner, just that she and your father would be home all day.

“We’ll be prepared for anything and everything,” Wooyoung grins, an eager gleam shining within his eyes.

You smile back, a small nod to your head as you meet his gaze from across the counter. Honestly, you cannot wait for your family to meet all of them. There’s a certain eager pride building within you at the mere thought of getting to show them off to your family after so long of being single, that you cannot wait to see their reactions.

You can already picture it now. Your mother will probably give you her signature look where she blinks in disbelief while trying, and failing, to hide her surprise. Your father, on the other hand, will probably freeze in his spot and look like a deer caught in headlights before awkwardly clearing his throat.

You just have to brace yourself for your sister’s squeal of joy and subsequent ‘I told you so’s and ‘I knew it’.

An hour and a half later, after you’ve had a small bite to eat and finished getting ready, you’re heading towards the main foyer. You’ve already discussed just how you’re going to be getting to your parents house, much to their discontent.

It would be a bit alarming if you just suddenly popped up out of the blue on your parent’s front porch, not to mention with eight men, so you’ve all agreed to drive. Needless to say, you were a bit surprised when they told you that they could all drive cars, they just didn’t for convenience sake.

You had nodded at that, more caught up with the fact that they actually agreed to your idea without any push back. Well, San, Wooyoung, and Mingi still all pouted, but understood that they probably shouldn’t freak your parents out, or draw any unnecessary attention to themselves in the neighbourhood the first time they meet your family. Still, you cannot wait to get back in your car.

Driving has always been a way for you to clear your head; the way you can just cruise down the streets with your favourite music playing through your car speakers has always been able to relax you. Honestly, you’re looking forward to it, and besides, you could really use something to help clear your mind right now. Though, you don’t know how much relaxation you’ll find with Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang all in the car with you.

That was one of the conditions you offered to them. Three of them could ride with you up to a certain point before heading back home to finish getting ready.

That, and you don’t think Wooyoung would have bothered to stop himself from joining you, anyways.

Needless to say, there was a big argument about who would be driving with you to start. You can still remember the way San pouted the entire time after the decision was made. A pout which still paints his features, arms crossed over his chest as the four of you walk towards the main entrance of the house.

“Well, I’ll see the rest of you later,” you say, a giddy smile on your features as you wave to them one last time.

For the first time since that night all of those months ago, you step through the front doors.

The exterior of the building is almost exactly as you remember it to be: grand, sleek, and beautiful. The only difference is that instead of those glass doors with the supposed hotel’s logo on them, they are now intricately carved wooden doors with glass windows covering the upper half of them.

You nod, approvingly, and even though it’s subconscious on your part, the three males that follow right behind you cannot help the way their hearts swell with pride at impressing you yet again in this way.

“Shotgun!” Wooyoung cheers, scurrying passed you and to the front passenger’s seat.

You grin, shaking your head, “someone’s eager.”

“We all are, Dearest,” Yeosang chuckles, walking over the the passenger’s seat directly behind the driver’s.

“We just love spending time with you, Starlight,” Mingi says, walking over to his designated seat now.

You quirk a brow. “So, how many times have you guys been driving with me without me knowing?”

Wooyoung shoots you a cheeky look from over the top of your car as he pulls open the passenger door.

You tilt your head expectantly, but the other two also remain silent, smiles tugging at their lips.

A sigh before you chuckle, shaking your head all the while. “Guess that answers that.”

Sliding into the front seat, you’re quick to start the car. Honestly, you’re surprised it still runs as smoothly as it does for the moment, considering you haven’t touched it in months.

“Jongho and I made sure to keep up its maintenance,” Mingi’s voice coming from the backseat has you sparing a glance at him from over your shoulder. “Just in case.”

“I didn’t know you guys were mechanics.” A soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your brows raising slightly in amusement. “I appreciate it.”

A moment later, you’ve finished connecting your phone to your stereo, your favourite songs playing gently through the speakers.

“Cars, weapons, machines, the house, you name it,” Wooyoung shrugs. “It’s all just another form of maintenance to us.”

Your brows raise even more as you put the car into reverse and finally drive away from your new home.

“You boys never fail to surprise me,” you hum.

“In a good way, I hope,” Yeosang meets your gaze briefly in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

You smile. “Always.”

The entire drive to your parents house is spent teasingly bickering with the guys, laughing all the while. Honestly, it’s the perfect way to clear your mind and focus on the conversation you’re sure to have with your mom when you get home. A fact which you could not be more thankful for.

At some point during the drive, Wooyoung had grabbed your one hand in his, seeing as you were driving with only your left on the steering wheel. The cheeky grin he sent you had you shooting him a brief side-eyed look in amusement, hearing Mingi grumbling about how he wanted to hold your hand instead. Hell, even Yeosang had crossed his arms at this, and you could just tell they were mentally complaining to Wooyoung about it the whole time.

Not that the younger minded. After all, he’s the one that got to hold your hand.

No wonder he wanted to sit in the front.

“Okay, we’re almost there,” you comment, turning onto one of the backroads that lead into your parent’s subdivision.

“Aw,” Wooyoung pouts. “Do we really have to go?”

You only quirk your brow in response. You all agreed that they would transport themselves back home before you reached your parents place, just so that your parent’s nosy neighbours wouldn’t get suspicious seeing four people drive up in a car, only for one to get out of it.

“We just don’t want to leave you, Starlight,” Mingi complains, a slight whine to his voice.

“You all agreed to the terms and conditions beforehand,” you spare a glance at Wooyoung. “Don’t make me turn this car around.”

“I don’t think any of us would complain about spending more time with you driving back home, Dearest,” Yeosang chuckles.

“I swear, if you guys could attach yourself to me like a symbiote, you would.” You snort, shaking your head.

Wooyoung smirks, his eyes flashing. “Don’t give me ideas.”

“Okay,” Yeosang’s eyes widen, his lips tightening into a thin line. “And on that note, I think it’s time for us to leave.”

“No!” Wooyoung whines, his lips pulling downwards dramatically. “I don’t want to!”

“Neither do I, but we promised we’d stick to the plan,” Yeosang replies, shaking his head at the way Wooyoung crosses his arms grumpily over his chest.

“I’ll probably be contacting you guys soon enough,” you chuckle, noticing how Mingi remains quiet for the time being. “Besides, they’ll need you for the directions.”

Another condition of sending them back early after driving with you is so they can get the best route possible. Not that they’d really need you to show them the directions, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

“We’ll see you soon, Dearest,” Yeosang sends you one final tender smile in the reflection of the mirror before he’s reaching out and teleporting the three of them back home.

A puff of laughter escapes you just as you turn into your parent’s subdivision, shaking your head lightly at their antics.

Blinking, you adjust your focus to the houses around you, rounding the corner to turn onto the street your parents live on. After one more turn, you pull into the driveway, a smile on your face.

Finally, you’re home.

Immediately, a sense of nostalgia washes over you as you step out of your car after cutting the engine. A warmth begins to spread throughout your body, radiating from the centre of your chest outwards.

You take a deep breath.

Yeah, this’ll be good for you. You can already tell.

Walking up to the front door, a gentle smile rests on your face. In the back of your mind, you wonder if your mother has left the door open.

Much to your content, she did.

The chime of the front door opening greets your ears, and you can faintly hear music coming from the direction of the basement. Your father must be down there either relaxing or doing something else for the moment, then.

“Hello!” You hear your mother’s chipper voice call out from just around the corner of the kitchen. “You’re here early-“

Her voice gets caught in her throat as she rounds the corner to see you standing at the front door having just finished slipping your shoes off for the moment.

A breathless gasp of your name escapes her as she rushes over to you, wrapping you in her embrace. A hug of which you eagerly return, just as tightly.

“Oh, Sweetie, I’ve missed you so much!” She coos into your ear. “I had a feeling you were coming to visit soon after your call yesterday, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I’ve missed you, too, mom,” you breathe out, practically melting into her arms. “It’s good to be home.”

“Well, come in! I’m making my homemade pasta sauce for dinner, you should stay!” She begins to lead you into the kitchen.

“If that’s okay,” you smile softly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

You gaze catches on the baby grand piano right beside the front entranceway, the wood shining beneath the afternoon sun. It’s slight, but your breath hitches.

“Nonsense!” Her voice catches your attention, shifting your gaze to see her standing beside the entrance to the kitchen with her hands on her hips. “You’re family, you could never intrude.”

That warmth returns to your chest. “Thanks, mom.”

“Your father is just downstairs for the moment.” She continues as you walk into the kitchen. “He’s working out on the treadmill like he so often likes to do. It was raining a bit earlier, so he couldn’t go on his regular walk.”

“Oh, he must have been devastated,” you joke, hearing your mother chuckle along with you.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she grins, moving over to the stovetop to stir the sauce for the moment. “Anyways, please, come sit! Tell me all about what you’ve been up to lately. We’ve missed you so much!”

Pulling out one of the chairs at the counter, you’re quick to join your mother, who now stands eagerly on the other side of the kitchen island. She rests a hand on top of the granite, a giddiness to her features that immediately rubs off on you.

For the next forty minutes or so, you give your mother some updates on your life. Just some basics that don’t give much away as to what you’ve been up to with the boys, nor do you explicitly mention them at all. Though, with the way you notice her smiling at you, her eyes darting to the shining necklace you currently wear, you know that she’s putting a few things together.

“Speaking of that mall,” she begins. “I ran into David the other day.”

“Oh, did you now?” You quirk a brow, amusement shining on your features.

“First of all, he was more than happy to look into commissioning a pin of one of the Leaves of Lorien for me.” She says, and recognition flashes in your eyes.

Your mother has always loved The Lord of the Rings almost as much as you, and she’s admitted to wanting a broach like that for quite a while now. You’re just sad you didn’t think of getting one for her sooner.

“He told me a very interesting thing about when you went to pick up that necklace of yours.” A knowing gleam shines within her gaze.

“What did he tell you?” You hum.

“Well, a little birdie told me that when you went to pick up your necklace, which is beautiful, by the way-“ a pointed look.

“Thank you.”

She nods, smiling faintly. “He told me that there were two men who were with you at the time. Two very handsome men.”

“Of course he did,” you sigh.

“Sweetie, you know if you’re seeing somebody, you can tell me,” she meets your gaze. “Don’t feel like you have to hide your relationships from us. We only want the best for you.”

“I know, mom,” you exhale a long breath, chuckling slightly.

“Even if it’s the both of them that are your mystery lovers, as long as they make you happy. That’s the main thing.” She adds.

“You would be okay with that?” You shoot her a knowing look. “Me, being in a relationship with more than one person?”

She pauses for a moment, considering your words. Then, she’s nodding once. Firmly. “I would.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise.

“Like I said, as long as you’re happy, and they treat you right, that’s all that matters to me.” She nods in confirmation, voice firm.

“Thanks, mom,” you smile. “That really does mean a lot to me.”

“Of course, Sweetie,” she smiles back. “Now, why don’t you tell me all about those two mystery lovers of yours.”

At the wink she sends you, you laugh. “Actually, I would really like for you to meet them all.”

“All? So there is more than one?” Your mom quirks a brow knowingly.

“Oh, there’s more than one, alright,” you chuckle.

“Just how many of them are there?” She frowns lightly, tilting her head in confusion at you.

A tight smile tugs onto your features as you let out a bit of a nervous laugh.

“Sweetie?”

“Uh, well,” you chuckle nervously once more, eyes flitting everywhere around the kitchen but in her direction for the moment. “There’s…“

“Yes?” Your mother leans forward slightly.

You mumble out a response lowly, enough to have your mother’s frown deepening.

“Pardon me?”

A brief pause.

“There’s eight of them.”

A moment of silence settles over the both of you as your mother’s eyes nearly bulge right out of her head.

“Sweetie! Eight of them? Holy shit!” Her jaw drops. “That’s- that’s-“ your mother searches for the right word as you smile sheepishly, “incredible!”

You blink, caught slightly off guard by her reaction. “You’re not weirded out?”

“I mean, I was expecting three at the most, but eight? As long as you’re happy, and they treat you right, you can have as many as you want. Though, your father might have a harder time wrapping his head around this.” She chuckles as she nods, grinning widely. That is, until her expression is becoming serious in the next second. “Honey, you didn’t stumble upon a cult accidentally, did you?”

You cannot help it, you burst out laughing. “No, mom. I didn’t stumble upon a cult.”

She simply raises an eyebrow at you in response. However, before either of you can say anything else, your dad rounding the corner of the kitchen catches your attention.

As soon as he sees you, he freezes in his tracks. He blinks once before a large smile is stretching across his features as he meets your gaze. “I didn’t know you were coming for a visit.”

“Surprise!” You chuckle, waving slightly at him.

“It’s great to see you again, Sweetie.” He says, his eyes shining as he looks at you. “I would give you a hug, but I’m all sweaty at the moment.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be around for a while still.” You smile.

“She’s staying for dinner,” your mother chimes in, and immediately, your father’s smile widens.

“That’s wonderful!”

“I promise I won’t leave unexpectedly again,” you tease, hearing how they both chuckle in response.

“Well then, I’m going to go shower, but I promise to be as quick as I can!” With a new spring to his step, he’s hurrying back the way he came and up the stairs to go freshen up.

As soon as your father is out of earshot, your mother is turning to you with a knowing look on her features. “One hour later.”

You laugh along with her, cheeks beginning to hurt already from how much smiling you’ve done so far today.

Yeah, you really needed this. You just knew it would help.

“I can’t wait for your sister to get here, too,” she hums. “Did she mention she has a surprise for you the next time you see her?”

“Yes, she mentioned something,” you nod, mildly surprised your mother hasn’t already spilled the beans in her excitement.

“Oh, so then, when are we going to get to meet these mystery lovers of yours?” A wiggle to her brows. “Soon, I hope.”

“I was hoping you could meet them today, honestly.” You admit, watching your mother’s reaction carefully.

At the way her eyes light up, you know she absolutely adores that idea.

“I’m making pasta, so there’s plenty to go around!” She grins, already moving to the cupboard to pull out two more large cans of tomato sauce to add them to the pot.

“Do you need any help?” You immediately offer, going to push back your chair and stand.

“Not in the slightest!” She tells you, placing the cans onto the counter. “You just sit and relax. Tell me all about these partners of yours before they arrive!” A brief pause. “When will they get here?”

“I’ll message them now, but probably in about an hour or so,” you smile, a glint shining in your eyes.

“Perfect!” She scurries over to the pot, reaching into one of the cabinets to pull out the can opener next.

Grabbing your phone, you make a show of sending a message to someone for your mother’s sake. Even if you don’t actually send anything.

You drop your void.

So… you begin, your voice resounding through all of their minds and catching their attention. Who wants to come over for dinner?

You mean…? San replies, an eagerness to his voice.

Yes. An affectionate brush of your mind against all of theirs. My mother is very excited to meet all of you.

You swear you can hear Wooyoung cheering happily in your mind as they all brush back.

We’ll be there in an hour, My Love. Hongjoong replies, and you don’t have to see him to know that he’s smiling right now.

With Hwa’s driving, make that thirty minutes. Yeosang chuckles.

Man nearly tore the car door open as soon as you reached out to us. At the way Jongho huffs, you can just tell he’s shaking his head in amusement right now.

Well excuse me if I’m excited. Seonghwa retorts.

Hurry up, you’re all taking too long! Wooyoung whines, and you just know he’s already in the car waiting for the others to join him.

We’ll see you shortly, Petal. Yunho chuckles fondly, brushing against your mind once more.

We love you, Starlight. Mingi hums affectionately.

You smile. I love you, too, My Kings.

Not even a moment later, you close your void.

Your mother manages to pull you out of your own thoughts by speaking, a hum to her words.

“I know that look,” there’s an understanding unlike ever before that paints her features as she meets your gaze. “They must be very special if you’re so caught up in your own little world like this after texting them.”

You avert your gaze, somewhat bashfully, to your phone which rests on top of the counter for the moment, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “They are.”

“Good,” she nods, that motherly look of affection dripping from her features. “I’m glad.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet them,” you grin giddily, wiggling slightly in excitement in your seat.

Your mother chuckles happily, “me neither.”

Almost immediately, you begin to launch into short descriptions of each of them. You don’t necessarily realize just how much your eyes light up as you speak of them, but your mother does. A fact of which warms her heart, glad to know that her little girl is all grown up and in love.

Before you know it, your ramblings span over the course of forty minutes, now able to add in little facts about things that you’ve done together with the guys that you couldn’t before. Minus a few details, of course.

“They all sound like real gentlemen,” your mother nods, approvingly.

You sigh, somewhat dreamily, “they really are.”

“I’m so happy for you, Sweetie,” she smiles widely, a gleam in her eyes.

“Thanks, mom,” you return her smile, somewhat shyly as you realize you’ve just spent almost an hour gushing about them to her.

Looks like you care even more about them than you thought. That, and the fact that you can finally talk about them to another person, and that person being your mother, is just so freeing. You’re so glad you can finally share your adventures with your family, even if they’re somewhat altered for the moment. Talking about everything most certainly is making you feel better, and brightening your spirits.

“From the sounds of things, they really love you, too.” She hums, stirring the sauce once more.

Your gaze darts to your hand resting on top of the counter. The same hand Wooyoung had been clinging onto in the car for practically the entire ride. “Yeah. They really do.”

“Just know, if they hurt you in any way, I’ll send both Sammy and Wolfie after them!” She mockingly threatens, turning to you with the wooden spoon still clutched in her hand.

“Oh, boy! I don’t think they’d be able to survive that,” you giggle, grinning right along with your mother. “Speaking of, where is that Monkey Boy? I’m surprised he hasn’t strutted down the hallway looking for attention yet.”

“He’s probably up in your old room, on your bed, sleeping,” she says, eyes briefly darting upwards in the direction she’s referring to.

“Of course he is,” you sigh teasingly, shaking your head.

Just as you go to push your chair out to go see him, a knock sounds at the front door.

Your heart skips a beat, nearly feeling it leap into your throat as you realize just what that knock means.

“Oh, is that them?” Your mother giddily scurries towards the front door, smoothing out the front of her shirt all the while.

“Most likely,” you reply, following right behind her and noticing how she also goes to smooth out her hair. “Relax mom, you look as lovely as you always do.”

“Oh, you!” She smiles bashfully, but you can tell that your words have helped assure her for the moment as she watches you walk passed her.

Reaching for the handle, you’re quick to pull open the door.

A smile tugs at your features as you see eight familiar males standing just on the other side. “Hello, boys.”

Opening the door wider, you step back to allow them entrance into your parents home.

“Hello, Dearest,” Yeosang is the first to enter, placing a brief kiss onto your cheek as he steps into the house.

Mingi is the next to step through the threshold, a bottle of red wine held in his hands. As soon as he sees you, a smile lights up his features. “Hi, Starlight.”

Subsequently, as each male enters, they greet you tenderly, either placing a kiss onto your forehead, or your cheek, smiling all the while. What you fail to notice, is how their eyes all light up as soon as they see you, such fond looks of affection shining within their gazes.

Looks of which your mother is quick to catch on to.

She smiles.

Closing the door quickly, you take a step back to observe them all as they stand just inside the foyer. Yunho holds another bottle of red wine, while both San and Seonghwa hold a bottle of white each. Wooyoung appears to be holding a box of chocolates in his hands, while a bouquet of flowers is cradled within Hongjoong’s arms. A book is held in Jongho’s hands.

“Sweetie, you didn’t tell me just how handsome they all are,” your mother teasingly tuts, stepping forward to greet them.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong smiles bashfully, a blush beginning to dust his cheeks along with Yeosang’s, Mingi’s, and Jongho’s. “I can now see where My Love gets her stunning beauty from.”

“Oh, you’re certainly a charmer, aren’t you?” Your mother giggles. “I’m so glad you all could join us for dinner.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Yunho replies graciously.

“Something smells absolutely delicious,” San hums, excitement shining in his eyes.

“You have a lovely home,” Yeosang adds, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Thank you very much,” a certain pride laces your mother’s words as she stands a little straighter.

“Here,” Hongjoong gently addresses your mother formally by your last name. “These are for you.”

“Please,” a certain gleam begins to shine within your mother’s eyes as she takes the bouquet of flowers from Hongjoong’s outstretched hands. The smile that graces her features is nothing short of touched as she sees the type he’s given her. “Call me Kaitlyn.”

The way she addresses all of them has a warmth already spreading throughout their chests. So far, the interaction between them all is going well, and they could not be happier.

“Lillies of the valley?” Her voice is soft, tender as she meets his gaze. “These are my favourite. How did you know?”

Briefly, Hongjoong’s eyes dart over to your figure leaning casually against the wall a little ways away.

“How thoughtful.” She hums. “You must be Hongjoong, then. My daughter says you have a habit of bringing her flowers.”

Again, his gaze briefly darts over to you. The tips of his ears begin to turn red.

“I am.” He nods, somewhat shyly in confirmation.

“She also tells me that you have an eye for design,” a knowing look is sent his way.

“It’s really not much,” he attempts to humbly brush off the praise, the blush spreading down his neck soon after.

“He’s being bashful,” you chuckle, grin tugging at your features.

“In fact, she’s told me a little bit about all of you,” Kaitlyn continues, eyes briefly glancing over all of them with a somewhat fond look shining in her eyes. “Please, do come in.”

Eight affectionate brushes are felt against your void, and you can just tell that it’s them asking you if you’ve really talked to your mother about them. At the subtle way you nod your head in response, they can feel their chests swelling with that familiar happiness even more.

Just then, the sound of footsteps hopping down the stairs reach your ears.

Turning your head, you see your father make it to the second landing of the stairs before lifting his head and stopping in his tracks. His eyes widen significantly before a furrow is pulling to his brow at seeing eight unfamiliar men standing just inside the front entranceway.

You nearly laugh at the sight. Looks like you were right about your father’s reaction.

“Papa!” Your excited voice calling out to him draws his attention.

Not even a moment later, he’s finished walking down the stairs to meet you halfway to wrap you in his embrace.

You bury your head into his chest as he holds you tightly, a large smile on his face.

“How’s my little girl? I’ve missed you,” his voice rumbles out, low and full of rough emotions as you feel his grip tighten ever so slightly around you.

You giggle. “I’ve missed you, too.”

You fail to see the way your mother gazes on so tenderly at the two of you, but the others do.

Smiles of their own tug subtly onto their features as the intimacy of the moment washes over the room. They can tell that you two haven’t seen one another in a very long time, and the happiness they can sense simply radiating off of the both of you rubs off on them immediately.

After another few seconds, your father is pulling away. His hands rest on your upper arms as he studies your features, a gentle smile tugging at his own. That is, before his gaze is shifting slightly towards the eight males still standing by the door.

“Who…” your father trails off, eyes narrowing the faintest bit in their direction before taking note of the bouquet of flowers now held in your mother’s arms.

“Perfect timing,” you chuckle, stepping away from your father for the moment as a soft smile adorns your lips. “Mom, dad, I’d like you to meet Yeosang, Mingi, Yunho, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Jongho, San, and Wooyoung. My significant others.”

As you say each male’s name, they each give a polite bow of their heads in acknowledgement towards your parents. Of course, you make it a bit simpler by going in order from left to right, too.

Your father’s reaction is immediate: his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline, eyes going wide as he looks like a deer in headlights. You swear he’s also stopped breathing for a moment there as his eyes flit over each of the eight males standing before him.

“It’s so lovely to meet the people who have been the cause of our daughter’s happiness over the past few months.” Your mother smiles, clutching the bouquet of flowers a little closer to her chest.

“The pleasure is all ours,” Seonghwa returns her smile wholeheartedly.

“Truly, it is an honour.” San adds, and you watch as they all bow in unison towards your parents.

“Thank you, again, for inviting us into your lovely home,” Wooyoung voices as soon as they straighten, staring deeply into your mother’s, and then your father’s eyes.

“They’ll be joining us for dinner,” your mother leans into your father slightly, and you watch as you see your father nod in understanding.

“Well then, let’s not stand at the door all day,” the way an instant sense of relief fills the room as your father says this has a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

The instant your parents turn around and begin walking towards the kitchen, you shoot the eight of them a thumbs up and a wink. Actions of which fill them all with a sense of pride as they slip off their shoes and follow you further into the house.

As soon as you all enter the kitchen, you see your mother stirring the sauce and your father standing just beside the counter.

“I see you’ve brought wine,” he nods, approvingly. “Good lads.”

Mingi is the first to hand his bottle to your father, jumping into an explanation as to why he chose each bottle as they’re placed onto the counter beside him. You can see how your father continues to nod approvingly at the choices Mingi has selected, listening intently to every word he says.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see San subtly inching towards your mother who stands beside the stovetop. A second later, and he’s offering his cooking services to her to help in any way that he can.

She readily agrees, shooting you a look of acknowledgement in the process.

You smile.

Wordlessly, you move over to grab a small vase from the cupboard, seeing as your mother is now conversing with both San and Yunho for the moment while Wooyoung presents the chocolates to your father. You can tell your parents already like them, seeing as how naturally they’ve slipped into conversation with most of them as they stand around the kitchen.

Once you have the vase in your hands, you move to begin arranging the flowers Hongjoong got for your mother for her. Only, he gently takes your place, automatically placing the flowers in the vase once it’s filled with water.

Your mother just about steps in to stop him, stating how she shouldn’t be letting a guest do that work for her. Yet, at Hongjoong’s insistence, she backs off with a small nod and a smile.

Stepping around the counter once more, you stand just behind the chair you had been occupying for the past while. Placing your hands onto the back of the seat, you spare a glance around the room, feeling your heart swell with fondness at the scene surrounding you.

Just as Yeosang comes to stand beside you, you notice Jongho beginning to converse with your father.

“I brought this for you, Sir,” Jongho presents the book in his hands to your father. “I thought since you’re an author, and one of our,” he spares a brief glance in your direction, “favourite things to do is read and share literature together, I would bring you one of my favourite books.”

Your father nods, accepting the book graciously with a small thank you falling from his lips. “Feel free to call me Nick.”

That cover looks very familiar.

You see recognition flash across your father’s face, his eyebrow quirking in amusement.

“Oh,” a teasing lilt can be heard within Nick’s voice. “Would you like me to sign this for you instead?”

Immediately, all heads are turning towards your father as Jongho stands there with wide eyes, completely caught off guard by his statement.

“Pardon me?” The shock is clear in Jongho’s voice as he stands there, arms still half raised in the air in front of him as he blinks at Nick in surprise.

“I’m assuming she told you,” Nick chuckles, holding up the book slightly in his hand. “This is my pen name.”

You never thought you would see the day were it looked like Jongho would faint from shock, but alas, here he is, standing frozen to his spot. The youngest looks about ready to spontaneously combust, red creeping up his neck as he turns to look at you with a somewhat tight smile on his lips.

“No,” he replies. “I had no idea.”

Your father chuckles, walking over and bonking you lightly on the top of your head with the book. “Are you still on about that thing that happened in high school with Linda?”

“Oh, fuck no,” you nearly scoff. “The fact merely didn’t come up yet.”

“Linda?” Seonghwa quirks a brow at you, and you can tell from the subtle way they all spare glances at your from the corner of their eyes, they’re all curious about what happened.

You share a look with your father.

“Final year of high school, my homeroom found out who my dad was. Linda just so happened to be a big fan of his work.” You explain.

“I still think you should have torn her hair out when you found out, Sweetie,” Kaitlyn supplies, with an air of casualty to her tone.

Hongjoong nearly drops the flower in his hands.

“Mom, you and I both know that would have been a little too violent at the time,” you reply. “Besides, she ended up getting suspended, anyways."

Mingi frowns. “What did she do?”

“Oh, she became friends with me to try and impress my dad,” you recount, a certain gleam shining within your eyes as you spare a glance around at all of them. “Wasn’t subtle about it, either.”

You swear that if your parents weren’t in the room, eight low growls would have resounded in your ears.

“She used you?” Wooyoung frowns, disgust clear on his features.

“Eh,” you shrug. “It’s not like I didn’t really see it coming.”

Yeosang places a gentle hand onto your lower back, yet you can just tell how he feels at the moment. You can feel it in the way his fingers press into your skin.

So, you decide to quickly change the subject. Sort of.

“Speaking of, did you finally figure out the ending to your next novel?” You shift your gaze to your father.

Instantly, his eyes are lighting up. “I did!”

Nick jumps right into explaining his next novel, excitement clear on his features. The way you can see all of them listening intently to what he’s saying warms your heart. You can just tell Jongho is hanging on to every word.

“In fact,” he turns his attention to Jongho, “come with me.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement as you watch your father lead Jongho into his office right down the hallway, Mingi and Yunho following close behind.

“Oh, now look what you did,” your mother chuckles. “You know how much your father loves talking about his books. Those poor boys will be stuck in there for hours.”

“I heard that!” Nick calls out teasingly from inside the office.

“Believe me,” you grin. “I don’t think they’ll mind at all.”

“Well, when you’re done,” your mother casually raises her voice to include your father in this, “show those three around the house. It’s about time we give them all a proper tour.”

“I think I speak for all of us when we say that we would love that,” Hongjoong turns to smile at your mother, seeing how he’s just finished arranging the flowers in the vase and pushed them to the centre of the counter.

“Alright then,” she places the lid over the pot, turning down the heat on the stove to let the sauce simmer. “You three,” she points to San, Yeosang, and Hongjoong, “follow me."

In the blink of an eye, she’s leading the three of them towards the basement, chatting all the while.

You spare a look at both Wooyoung and Seonghwa, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. “Come with me."

Without another word, you’re leading the two of them upstairs.

Once you reach the top landing, you’re turning to look at the two of them. There’s a subtle quirk of your brow as your gaze shifts from one male to the other, mentally debating on if you actually need to show them around or not. They’ve probably seen it all before, anyways.

Wooyoung’s brow raises, amusement dancing on his features as he looks around. “So, Gorgeous. Are you going to show us around, or not?”

“I just figured you’ve seen it all before,” you counter, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Surprisingly, we haven’t,” Seonghwa replies, and at the way he curiously looks around, you can tell he’s not lying to you.

“Alright then,” you turn back around. “Follow me.”

It takes you maybe all of five minutes to show them the majority of the upstairs. That is, until you only have one room left.

Anticipation claws at both Wooyoung’s and Seonghwa’s chest as you lead them into what they know is your room. Only, from what they recall of your memories, it’s completely different than they expect.

At the mild confusion lingering on their faces, you’re quick to speak.

“It’s been four years since that happened,” you begin, something tugging at the back of your mind. “My parents moved here two years ago.”

Recognition flashes on both of their features as they fully take in your room. Until scowls are pulling on both of their faces as they see what resides on your one wall.

“Honestly, I’m surprised my mom hasn’t taken these down,” you chuckle, looking over the few Taemin posters you have hanging on the one side of your room. “That, and I’m surprised someone hasn’t torn them to shreds.”

At the way you turn your pointed gaze towards your bed, the two cannot help but to chuckle.

There, laying on your bed with his front paws crossed over one another, lays Sammy, your parent’s cat. He has a smug look on his features as what appears to be a fuzzy blanket is bunched up on the end of the bed right beside him. His eyes haven’t left you since you’ve entered the room.

You cross your arms over your chest, a scoff escaping you in the next second. “Why am I getting the ‘welcome home, cheater’ treatment?”

The two males standing on either side of you laugh.

“It’s because you are,” Wooyoung chuckles, taking the time to lean against your desk at the side of the room.

You gasp, as if scandalized, “and here I thought what we had was special, Sammy.”

The moment those words escape you, he’s cooing, flipping onto his back and exposing his belly for you to come and give him scratches.

“Oh, I see how it is,” you chuckle, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. As soon as you start to pet his belly, he begins to purr. “Some belly rubs and all is forgiven, huh?”

“He is a simple man, with simple needs,” Seonghwa jokes, turning to study every inch of your room.

“He’s a Monkey, is what he is,” you begin to coo at Sammy, noticing how he stands back to his feet in the next second.

Laying back on your bed, Sammy is quick to crawl up your body, settling comfortably on your chest.

“Just like old times,” you grin, petting the cat happily as the two males watch on with nothing but affection dripping from their eyes. “Though, I’m surprised he didn’t come running to the front door as soon as I got here, or you guys for that matter. Probably having too much fun with his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend?” Seonghwa quirks a brow.

You vaguely motion to your scrunched up blanket laying at the end of the bed.

Understanding flashes across both of their features as Sammy jumps off of you and scurries from the room.

You sit up, resting on the edge of the bed. A look of nostalgia crosses your features as you take the time to look around your room.

“I may not have been here for long, but I do have some good memories of this place,” you smile faintly, taking note of your somewhat empty bookshelves scattered throughout the room. “Though, I think the majority of my jewelry is still- yep!”

Opening the topmost drawer on the left of your dresser which sits right in front of you beside your bed, you pull out a small box. Opening the lid, your eyes take in the sight of all of your necklaces tangled in one great pile, rings buried beneath some bracelets.

“I don’t think I’ve touched this stuff in years,” you smile faintly, putting the box on top of your dresser for now. “I really only ever wore a few pieces.”

Your eyes dart to your small jewelry tree on the far right of your dresser.

A gasp escapes you. “No way."

Standing quickly back to your feet, you’re quick to snatch what appears to be a ring hanging from a somewhat thick chain from the tree.

“I can’t believe I forgot I had this,” you hum, gazing fondly at the item held in your hand as it sways slightly.

At the two curious gazes you can feel darting between the object in your hand and your face, you’re quick to grab another small ring off of the tree.

“A girl I used to know once got me two versions of the One Ring as a gift. One was this one,” you hold up the one on the chain, “and the other was this one.” A thinner version of the same ring is held in your fingers. “I always-“ you let out a small sigh through your nose. “I always planned to give this one,” you raise the chain slightly in your hand, “to my significant other, if I ever got one. Though, I don’t think I can split it into eight.”

“Then would you-“ Wooyoung clears his throat. “Would you keep the other one?”

“Yes,” you meet his gaze. “I always thought of it as having matching rings without the added concept of marriage attached to it.”

Seonghwa practically collapses on top of the small shelf you have at the end of your bed.

“Did you-“ he clears his throat. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”

“Oh, sure,” you reply casually, placing the two items back on top of your dresser. “When I was younger, I would joke about it all the time. Though, as I got older, it didn’t really have the same appeal to me.”

“What do you mean?” Wooyoung pushes himself off of your desk in order to slowly begin making his way closer to you. He sits himself beside his brother, the both of them looking at you expectantly.

“To have a piece of paper be the sole reason you can even acknowledge the fact that you’re married to someone just doesn’t appeal to me.” You shake your head. “I don’t know if it’s different for you guys, but if we’re together, we’re together. If you call me your wife, then I’m your wife. I don’t need a piece of paper dictating what I mean to you. I’d still sign it if my significant other wanted me to, but I think it’s more meaningful to acknowledge what we are and determine what that is ourselves, than with a signature on a flimsy sheet of paper.”

“Not to mention if things didn’t work out, then you have to go through the whole trouble of filing for divorce.” You add. “At least without a marriage certificate you can just end things without the hassle. It’s just easier that way, I think.”

“So, if I wanted to start calling you wifey…?” Wooyoung grins cheekily, a wiggle to his brows.

“I won’t stop you,” you grin. “Like I said, there are other means of acknowledging being in a relationship that I prefer. The most important being how we define ourselves. That’s what really matters.”

“Okay, so if what I’m understanding is correct,” Seonghwa nods, a gleam in his eyes as a cheeky grin pulls onto his features. “We’re married now.”

“Woah, slow down there, Mars,” you chuckle, turning your attention back to your jewelry tree for the moment. “Let’s make it through some things first before we actually start talking about that.”

At the way you notice him pouting out of the corner of your eyes, you chuckle.

“I’m not saying ‘no’,” you meet his gaze. “Just not yet.”

The way they both visibly perk up has a smile pulling at your lips.

“Besides, I do have something to give each of you, now,” you grin, pulling two pieces of jewelry off of your tree.

Moving to step in front of them, you face Wooyoung first. A necklace seems to be held in your hands as you smile at him softly.

“May I?” Your voice is gentle as you meet his gaze.

His eyes shine, lips parting slightly as he nods.

Stepping into him, you’re quick to bring the thin chain up and clasp it around his neck. A soft smile rests on your features as you look down at the small replica of a belladonna flower staring back at you. At the way his hand comes up to gently grasp the flower in his fingers, gazing upon such a gem with such awe, you know you’ve chosen right.

“Beautiful, but deadly,” you hum, noticing how Wooyoung’s eyes flash in recognition almost instantly.

A moment later, and you’ve stepped away from Wooyoung in order to place yourself directly in front of Seonghwa. Gently, you raise a hand in front of him, motioning for him to give you one of his own.

A look of complete wonder rests in Seonghwa’s eyes as he places his hand softly in your own. He can feel his heart racing as you begin to slide a silver ring onto one of his fingers, your thumb stroking over the metal as soon as it’s in place.

Sparing a brief glance down, Seonghwa takes in the sight of a small diamond embedded within an etching of a brilliant star.

“Planets tend to outshine even the brightest of stars,” you hum, thumb tracing over the band of the ring once more.

Nothing but awe fills each of their gazes as they continue to stare at you. Their hearts race erratically within their chests, hearts swelling as a warmth floods their veins. This moment is so tender to them, so significant, that nothing could take away the pure, unfiltered joy coursing through their very souls at this point in time.

You are everything to them, and this only just proves it.

A comfortable silence settles over the three of you as you all bask in this moment together. You take the time to lean into both of them, placing a tender kiss onto each of their foreheads in tandem, a smile gracing your features soon afterwards.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?” The teasing drawl of your mother’s voice catches your attention from the doorway.

You quirk a brow, “not at all.”

The four of them stand just inside your room, the three males looking around subtly. Again, you can see the distaste flash across their features, even if only briefly, at seeing the Taemin posters hanging on the side of the one wall. A fact of which that has your lips twitching upwards in the corners slightly.

“Looks like we finally caught up with you,” your father grins, stepping into the room with the final three males in tow.

The way Jongho still looks completely starstruck nearly has a chuckle falling from your lips.

“Well, I’m sure we can leave these fine gentleman in our daughter’s capable hands for the moment,” your mother begins to usher your father out of your room. “Besides, I need to go check on the sauce.”

Nick’s words of protest die on his lips as both Wooyoung and Seonghwa stand back to their feet.

“We’ll join you,” Seonghwa says, already beginning to follow after your parents with Wooyoung right behind him.

Briefly, you notice the two of them share a glance with the six others who have just entered your room, and you just know they’re speaking with one another in their minds. A fact which is only confirmed when six gazes turn towards you as soon as the others have left.

“Good timing,” you grin, walking back over to your jewelry tree. “I have something to give each of you.”

“You do?” There’s a slight bit of pleasant surprise clinging onto Yunho’s words as they all watch you carefully.

“I do,” you confirm softly with a nod of your head, turning your gaze to meet his own for the moment. “I’ve already given Woo and Hwa theirs, so now it’s time for yours.”

Motioning Yunho closer with your finger, you turn to fully face him as he comes to stand in front of you. A gentle smile rest on your features as you hold your one hand out for him, watching as he places his own in your hold in the next second.

Sliding your touch up, you’re quick to clasp an intricate bracelet around his wrist. Soft blue gems glitter up at him as what appears to be a stem of forget-me-nots wrap around his skin.

“I know it can’t replace what once was lost, but it’s a start,” you squeeze his hand, gazing deeply into his eyes.

At the way his breath hitches, you know that he knows exactly what you’re referring to.

“It’s more than enough,” he whispers lowly, eyes shining as he squeezes back.

Tenderly, you bring his hand up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss against his skin.

Yunho’s heart swells in his chest, a loving smile gracing his features. “Thank you, Petal.”

You nod, squeezing his hand one final time as he steps away. The way you can feel the other’s watching you carefully has your attention on them once more.

Just as Yunho begins to step away from you, you lock gazes with San across the room. With a motion of your head, he’s quick to begin making his way over to you.

“It’s a little on the nose, but I can’t picture it with anyone else.” You hum, turning briefly to grab another chain off of your jewelry tree.

Holding up the chain, an intricate trident pendant swings slightly in the air.

You meet his gaze, noticing how San comes to stand directly in front of you and blocks the others from your sight.

Wordlessly, you mouth ‘My Aquaman’ to him once more, noticing how a pleasant shiver trails up his spine as you move to clasp the chain around his neck. You’re sure a pleased growl would have escaped him, too, were it not for the current situation he finds himself in.

As soon as the clasp in in place, a brilliant smile is shining on his features. Almost immediately, one of his hands comes up to begin toying with the charm affectionately, staring down at it in awe.

Slowly, San begins to back away from you, and you meet gazes with the next male.

“Moonlight,” you smile softly, motioning him forward with one of your fingers.

Mingi steps towards you eagerly, a grin tugging on his features as he watches you grab another piece of jewelry from the tree.

Again, you present your hand, palm facing upwards, to him, and almost instantly, his own is placed in yours. Your fingers settle over his pulse, flipping his wrist as you wrap a leather bound bracelet around it. Once Mingi turns his hand back over, he nearly lets out a gasp in shock.

There, sitting against the back of his wrist, is an intricately carved silver crescent moon, swirl like designs hidden within. The leather straps holding it in place are a dark brown, almost black, tied securely around his wrist curtesy of you.

“Starlight,” his voice is but a breathless whisper on his lips.

“The stars cannot shine without their moon.” You smile faintly, meeting his gaze as you squeeze his hand.

He squeezes back, eyes shining with unshed tears as he steps away from you.

The next male you call over to you is the youngest, of whom is more than happy to make his way over to you as soon as you motion for him to join you.

On the necklace you hold up to him hangs an intricate charm of a book. Although small, the silver cover is carved with vines, a small clasp near the side.

“Open it.” You encourage, allowing the charm to dangle between the both of you.

Wordlessly, Jongho reaches forward, grasping that little silver book in his fingers. The moment he flicks the clasp open, his breath hitches in his throat. There, held within the book, rests a small diamond heart, hidden within the pages of the novel.

He meets your gaze, eyes shining with all the unspoken words he wants to say. Yet, he doesn’t have to, for you already understand.

Stepping forward, you’re quick to secure the chain around his neck.

A bashful smile tugs at his features as a blush begins to creep up his neck. Instantly, his fingers reach up to begin toying with the charm, thumb brushing over the little pendant as he slowly backs away from you.

The next male you turn to begins walking towards you as soon as you meet his gaze. A soft smile rests on both of your features as Yeosang comes to stand before you.

“I’ve had this one since I was small,” you say, turning briefly to pull another necklace from the tree.

Again, you meet his gaze, and you know you don’t even have to say anything else for him to understand how much this single piece of jewelry means to you. How much he means to you.

The treble cleft pendant is small, a diamond shining in the centre of the worked silver. You’ve had it since you started learning to play the piano, and you know that he knows just how significant this piece is to you. To the both of you.

Once the chain is clasped around his neck, you brush your fingers over the pendant lightly. The way you feel him shiver beneath your touch has a smile tugging at your features once more.

“Thank you, Dearest,” you can hear the emotions within his voice as he meets your gaze, eyes shining with that all too familiar love and fondness he always looks at you with.

A nod of your head is all he receives back, that same look of fondness shining within your eyes as you watch him step away from you for the time being.

Now, for the final male who stands directly in the centre of all of his brothers.

Locking gazes with him, a soft smile pulls at your features. That is, until your eyes are briefly darting around to the other five males standing around him.

“May we have a moment alone?” The words haven’t even finished leaving your lips when the other five are moving to exit your room.

“We’ll see you downstairs,” Yeosang sends one final smile your way before closing the door behind him on his way out.

Turning your gaze back to Hongjoong, you notice how he stands, somewhat nervously, by your desk. His hands are clasped in front of his body as he shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the faintest hue of red dusting the tips of his ears.

“At first, I wasn’t sure what to gift you,” you begin, noticing how his eyes briefly dart up to meet your own. “After all, what could I gift the man who has given me everything?”

“Your happiness and love are gifts enough, My Love.” He replies, and you can just hear the sincerity in his tone bleeding through.

You shake your head lightly, that soft smile of yours still pulling onto your features. “It took me a little while, but I cannot picture it with anyone else.”

“My Love?” His breath hitches ever so slightly as he sees you beginning to make your way over to him.

“Close your eyes.”

The moment those words leave your lips, his eyelids are fluttering shut. You can see how anticipation claws at him, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as he hears you approaching him.

The sound of a chain rustling reaches his ears, and he cannot help the shiver that caresses his spine as he feels the ghost of your touch grace the sides of his neck. A moment later, and he feels a small weight settle on the skin of his upper chest.

“I have had many ideals about love, Hongjoong, and you have always managed to go above and beyond every single one of them. You all have.” Keeping your voice low, you bring a hand up to gently caress the side of his face. At the way he immediately leans into your touch, you smile. “Open your eyes.”

The first thing that greets Hongjoong’s gaze is your face, looking at him so tenderly as that soft grin tugs at your lips. He can feel his heart racing inside his chest as he notices your eyes glance briefly down towards the necklace you’ve just secured around his neck. Not just any necklace. A chain with the One Ring dangling from it.

Hongjoong’s breath gets caught in his throat, eyes shining with nothing but pure adoration and love as he meets your gaze. “My Love.”

“I’m sure you overheard me talking about this earlier,” you reply, somewhat knowingly.

“I did,” his voice comes out a little strained, choked by his emotions for the time being.

“Then you know how much it means to me, in more than one way.” Your thumb tenderly brushes against his cheek.

“I do.” He breathes, tears finally gathering at the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, My Love. This means everything to me. You mean everything to me.”

“Hongjoong,” you smile, meeting his gaze before leaning in and placing a tender kiss onto his forehead. Your next words are a mere whisper against his skin. “I believe you.”

A comfortable silence settles around the both of you as you continue to stare into one another’s eyes. The love you can see shining within his gaze sets your heart racing, a look you’re sure is mirrored in your own.

“Come on,” you grin, grabbing his one hand in your own. “Let’s go back downstairs before my mom starts to think we’re canoodling.”

The way his eyebrows raise in amusement has a chuckle falling from your lips.

“Canoodling?” The grin that pulls onto his features is nothing short of devious as his eyes flash.

“Now, don’t be getting any ideas, Captain,” the way you teasingly drawl out that one title of his has a pleasant shiver running down his spine. You lean in slightly, voice low as your breath tickles the shell of his ear, “we still have dinner to get through.”

The faintest of growls escapes his lips, and you can feel the way the grip he has on your hand tightens ever so slightly. Only, before he can so much as respond, you’re pulling away from him. A bright smile paints your features as you let out a faint giggle.

“Come on,” this time, you begin to tug him towards your closed door. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Leading him back out of your room, you’re quick to rejoin everyone downstairs. Of course, you do not fail to miss the way all eight of them all seem to be standing a little straighter, eyes gleaming with a newfound shine as your look around at all of them.

In fact, a few of them seem to be crowded around your mother’s side as San stirs the sauce for her. It looks like he’s even started getting the noodles ready to be cooked as she turns the page of whatever book they seem to be so engrossed in.

That’s when you realize just what they appear to be looking at.

“Oh, and this was when she was four and we had her taking ballet,” your mother points at a picture in the album. “They were dancing Swan Lake that year, it was so cute!”

“I didn’t realize she had taken ballet,” Wooyoung hums, a grin tugging on his features as he spares a glance towards you.

“Mom,” a slight panic to your voice.

“And this was her first birthday with cake all over her hair,” Kaitlyn coos, a knowing smile pulling at her lips as she meets your gaze.

“Mom, please,” your eyes go wide, feeling as Hongjoong quite literally slips through your fingers to go join his brothers peering over your mother’s shoulders.

“I tried to stop her, Sweetie, but you know how your mother gets with your baby photos,” Nick chuckles, crossing his arms lightly over his chest as he leans back against the counter.

You sigh, “unfortunately.”

“Oh!” Your mother squeals as she turns the page once more. “And this is when she dressed as a little lion cub for halloween when she was three!”

“Mother.” You’re torn between being completely mortified, and laughing in disbelief. You shake your head in defeat. “They were bound to come out sooner or later.”

“I think your mother’s just happy to finally be sharing them with the people you care about,” your father hums, nudging you slightly with his elbow as you rest beside him.

“You’re damn right I am!” Kaitlyn grins. “What is a mother’s job if not to embarrass her daughters in front of their significant others?”

“Now I know how Crystal feels,” you chuckle.

“Speaking of your sister, her and Vasco should be here soon.” Nick comments. “They’re a bit excited for today since we can’t do dinner together next week.”

“What’s next week?” You inquire casually.

“Well, I’m taking your mother out for a special dinner,” he replies.

“Right,” you nod, almost subconsciously. “It’s your anniversary next week.”

The words fall so easily from your mouth that you don’t even register them until you feel the stillness settle itself over the room. That’s when the reality of your situation is hitting you.

You can feel eight subtle glances directed towards you for the moment as you freeze in your spot. For a second, you swear you forget to breathe as your eyes zone in on the floor at your feet. With everything going on, the actual date seemed to have slipped your mind.

You take a deep breath to steady your nerves, feeling eight gentle caresses against your void in tandem. You brush back.

“Thirty-five years, right, pops?” You turn your head, noticing how your father smiles as he meets your gaze.

“That’s right.” He confirms with a happy nod.

“Alright,” you push yourself off of the counter, meeting your mother’s gaze once more. “Is it tuned?”

Kaitlyn’s brow furrows slightly in confusion before recognition flashes within her eyes. “Actually, it was just tuned Friday.”

You smile faintly, “good.”

You barely make it three steps out of the kitchen before your father is calling your name, a slight confused furrow to his brow.

“How would you like to relive a memory, papa?” You turn to smile at him from over your shoulder, motioning for them all to join you at the front of the house.

At the way you notice the eight of them hesitating, you’re quick to reach out to them with your mind. You all can join us, you know. This one’s for you as much as it will be for them.

The moment your words echo throughout their minds, they’re all quick to join you. Of course, San briefly turns off the stove, shutting the fan off of the cooktop for the moment so as not to interrupt the scene that is about to occur. A fact of which earns him an approving nod from your mother, causing a subtle blush to creep up his neck.

There’s a giddy spring to your father’s step as he moves over to prop open the baby grand piano as you pull out the bench to sit. You see your mother step in beside him, the others surrounding you on either side. Still, you cannot help but allow your fingers to hover above the keys for a moment, hesitating.

The last time you saw a piano, you had been harshly thrown into it, the strings snapping against your skin. Even now, as you look down at the ivory beneath your hands, you cannot keep the memories from coming to mind.

A gentle hand is placed onto your back, and you turn your head to see Yeosang smiling softly down at you. There’s an undertone of concern hiding behind his eyes as his thumb tenderly rubs against the skin of your back, and you just know that he’s reminding you of what they’ve been telling you all throughout this past week.

They’re all right here. She cannot hurt you anymore.

Subtly, you nod your head, turning back to the piano in front of you. Again, eight gentle caresses are felt against your mind, soothing you even further as you flex your fingers out before placing them on top of the keys.

Turning your attention to your parents, you see them already gazing at you so fondly. Your father’s one arm is wrapped around your mother’s shoulder, just as her arm is wrapped around his waist.

“It’s been a while since I played this, so you’ll have to excuse any mistakes,” you smile lightly at them. “This one’s for you.”

The opening notes to Elton John’s Your Song begin to fill the house, transposed slightly in order to make the key more comfortable for your range when you begin to sing.

“Sweetie,” your mother’s awe filled voice reaches your ears as both your parents look on at you with awe.

The pull of your lips upwards is nothing short of sweet as you begin to sing. Your voice echoes throughout the open space, comforting them all like a blanket with each note that you hit. A fact which makes their hearts all race in their chest as they register that this is for them, too.

Not even a second later, your father is extending his hand out to your mother in offering, a loving smile pulling at his lips. A hand of which your mother places her own in somewhat shyly.

Pulling her in closer, your parents begin to slow dance to the melody that you create for them with this meaningful song. Each cannot help the way tears gather in the corners of their eyes, reliving very special memories all the while as they get lost in each other’s embrace.

The moment you hit the chorus, you drop your void.

“I hope you don’t mind,” every single tender emotion you’ve ever felt towards all eight of them washes over their very souls at this moment in time.

“I hope you don’t mind,” all the love, happiness, affection, and fondness you have for them floods their sense, and each male cannot help the way their breaths hitch silently in their throats.

“That I put down in words,” you smile, heart swelling in your chest as you think of your eight Kings surrounding you at this very moment. You brush against their minds. “How wonderful life is, while you’re in the world.”

You only play the first verse and chorus, but you can just tell from the way your parents turn to look at you afterwards that it was more than enough. Especially when you notice your mother quickly bring her hands up to wipe at her eyes.

“Thank you, Sweetie,” Nick’s voice is rough, choking slightly on his emotions as he meets your gaze. “That truly meant a lot to us.”

“It’s not every day you get to dance to your wedding song again, just like the first time,” your mother chuckles, eyes shining as she leans into your father’s side.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile at them.

“I don’t think we’re the only ones who enjoyed it,” at the way your mother’s eyes briefly dart behind you, you’re quick to turn around.

Eight tender gazes stare back at you, eyes shining with the emotions they cannot put into words for the moment. Emotions of which wash over you, seeing as you have yet to close your void to them yet. A fact of which makes you smile as you are once more surrounded by that familiar warmth you have come to experience with them, comforted by their love and affection just as you always are.

Again, you tenderly brush against their minds, of which they immediately brush back.

Standing from the bench, you’re quick to step out. A faint smile rests on your features as you move to stand beside Jongho for the moment who currently leans against the railing of the stairs for support.

Just as you go to say something the sound of the front door opening draws your attention. You hear the scraping of nails against the hardwood floor before you feel yourself being tackled to the ground, wet, slobbery kisses being placed all over your face.

“Wes!” You giggle, attempting to catch your breath after getting the air knocked out of you. “Yes, yes, I’m happy to see you, too.”

“Wes!” The booming command of your sister’s voice reaches your ears, and immediately, the dog is sliding off of you. “No jumping!”

“It’s okay, he’s just-“ the words die in your throat as you sit up to see your sister being helped through the door by Vasco.

The catch in your breath is noticed by all as your gaze settles in on Crystal’s stomach, swollen and round. The way you can see her smiling at you softly, your mother practically beaming out of the corner of your eyes, has you on your feet in an instant.

“Surprise,” she breathes, watching as you come to stand before her as Vasco gently shuts the front door behind them.

“You- I-“ you blink, fresh tears springing to your eyes as you take in her figure standing before you. You laugh, nothing but pure joy pulling at your features as the first of your tears begin to slide down the side of your cheeks. “You’re pregnant.”

She nods. “I am.”

“I’m going to be an aunt,” you voice, gaze darting between her stomach and her eyes.

“You are,” she confirms, her own voice now slightly rough as her emotions wash down upon her, too. “Again.”

You fall to your knees, hands hesitant in touching her stomach. That is, until you see her smiling down at you, a subtle nod to her head.

Gently, you place your hands on her stomach, fingers trembling all the while.

“I swear to you,” you begin, keeping your tone low as you meet her gaze all the while. “For as long as I shall live, no harm will ever come to this little one.”

You fail to see the way eight males straighten ever so subtly behind you, for they know that those words you have just spoken are true. They will do whatever they can in their power to make sure that you keep your promise, protecting that child as if it were their own. After all, it’s exactly what you would want. It’s exactly what you are going to do.

Your sister places a tender hand on top of your head, humming all the while. “I know.”

Softly, you lean forward to rest your forehead against her stomach, feeling the way your sister places her hands atop your shoulders. She gives you a reassuring squeeze, revelling in this tender moment with you as her sister, the meaning deeper than either of your parents will ever realize.

“Now, are you gonna sit there on the floor all day, or are you going to introduce me to your mystery lovers here?” The teasing drawl of Crystal’s voice manages to catch your attention.

“You caught me,” you sigh, a chuckle falling from your lips as you move to wipe your eyes.

“I knew it!” She jeers, practically pulling you back onto your feet in the next second. “Vasco, didn’t I keep telling you that she was probably hiding more than one mystery lover?”

At the way she turns eagerly to her husband standing beside her, you can just tell that you’ve been the topic of many conversations regarding this.

“You did, Honey,” Vasco chuckles.

“Let’s see,” Crystal hums. “Just how many of there are you.”

You quirk a brow in amusement, watching as she nods her head as she counts off each male.

Her eyes widen significantly. “Eight! There’s eight of you?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” you huff slightly, a teasing quirk to the corner of your lips.

“Blink twice if she’s paying you,” Crystal leans forward slightly, arms spread as if to hold you back at a moment’s notice.

“Crys!” You complain loudly, shooting her an exasperated look in the next moment.

“I’m just teasing you,” she chuckles, flinging an arm around your shoulders in the next second. “After all, what are big sisters for?”

“And here I was going to play you a song,” you hum, amusedly.

At the way her eyes nearly bug out of her head, she’s quick to begin apologizing. “You can still play me a song! I promise I won’t joke anymore!”

“You just missed her performing for us a few minutes ago,” your father adds, somewhat knowingly.

“Well, now you have to play for us!” Crystal states, matter-of-factly. “It’s not fair of you to deny little Elijah a chance to hear his aunt perform when she’s offering.”

“You’re having a boy?” Your eyes shine as you meet your sister’s gaze.

She nods, and immediately you wrap her in your arms. A hug of which she eagerly returns.

“He’s coming home.” She whispers lowly in your ear, her grip tightening ever so slightly.

A few moments later, you pull away, staring deeply into her eyes. Gently, you bring your hands down to grasp hers in your own, guiding her over to the piano. Carefully, you help her sit in the chair closest to the bench, giving her knee a light squeeze once she’s settled.

Not even a second later, Vasco comes to stand beside her.

For the second time that day, you settle yourself onto the bench, fingers hovering over the ivory. Your heart swells, and you find yourself taking a deep breath in.

With the first chord you play, you immediately begin to sing. The soft tune of Marianas Trench’s Forget Me Not fills the air, and the longer you perform, the more you find yourself glancing at your sister out of the corner of your eyes.

“I’m here to remind you, what’s lost is never gone,” you meet her gaze, and you hear her breath hitch as you do so.

You blink, facing forward once more.

“I’m not ready for what’s to come,” again you brush against those eight strings within your mind, letting them know that this song is for you as much as it is for her.

“But I wanted you to know, I still need you, my friend,” you smile faintly, hearing her breath hitch once more as understanding flashes within her gaze. “From the line to amend, to the cradle again.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice your parents holding onto one another as they watch this scene unfold before their very eyes. Tears line their vision, one already making its way down the side of your mother’s cheek.

“If memories are shadows, we’d best not waste the light.” Too many painful memories threaten to consume you, reminding you of all of your darkest times. Yet, beneath all that darkness, there is still hope. A golden hue that shines through with all the good memories you have, with all of them.

“I know you’re not quite here, but you’re not quite gone,” you will always hold onto your memories, even the bad ones. A sentiment that you know your sister shares as the first of her tears begin to trail down her face. “Sometimes the night gets darkest before the dawn.”

The only sound that can be heard throughout the house is you, the piano accompanying you accentuating your voice and the notes that you play. The song encompasses everything you wish to say to your sister and her unborn child, but also to yourself and your Eight Kings. You know the future is uncertain, and you know the road will be difficult, but you’ll get through this. Together. One step at a time.

“Life’s too short but the end is so long.” The final notes trickle out, softly ringing through the air as you still your hands over the keys once more.

The sound of your sister sniffling draws your attention to her and you turn your head to see her practically clinging onto Vasco for dear life. Her lower lip wobbles, hand coming up to wipe at her eyes frantically before meeting your gaze.

Everything she wants to say to you, you can see in her eyes. The gratitude, the understanding, but most of all, the love you can see shining within her gaze as she looks at you comes through clearly. A fact of which that has you smiling softly, the subtlest of nods to your head in acknowledgment as warmth floods your chest.

Eight tender caresses brush against your mind, and you let them in.

A content hum escapes your lips as their emotions wash over you for the moment. Shamelessly, all eight of them share with you exactly how you have just made them feel, for watching you, hearing you perform for them like this, means more to them than you’ll ever know. The fact that you have trusted them with such an intimacy which also reflects moments shared with your family has warmth flooding their veins, hearts pounding erratically within their chests.

“What a first impression I must be making,” Crystal jokes, drying her eyes. “Here I am sobbing in front of your significant others, and I don’t even know their names yet.”

You chuckle, a soft, teasing quirk to your lips, “what are younger sister’s for?”

“They’re staying for dinner, so there’ll be plenty of time for proper introductions then,” Nick adds, soothingly rubbing a hand over your mother’s back seeing as she’s finally calmed down for the moment.

You stand, moving to rest between Yunho and Seonghwa. Even though you’re only standing beside the two males, you can feel them all surrounding you, offering you comfort yet again in their own ways.

You smile.

“So,” your mother clears her throat, clapping her hands once to catch everyone’s attention, “who’s hungry?”

543 notes · View notes

rogersideup · 9 months

Text

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter fourteen

Cinnamon Roll

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Cardboard Castle Next Part: Everything will be Okay

Word Count: 7,758

Warnings: Please read. My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression. This chapter contains dialog and storytelling of the loss of a pregnancy. If this is a topic that weighs heavy on your heart and is too difficult to read, please skip to the next chapter. 🤍

The whole of the month you got to spend with Steve in Greenwood completely unapologetically was as magical as it could've been. Perfect was an understatement.

It felt like good stepping stones to really get life back on track after the blip. Although you had already gotten a good grip before your arrest, motivation to do better now that you had Steve back at your side was at an all time high.

He got to see all the work you did on the bakery while he was gone, and needless to say the hours you'd devoted worked really well. Business had never been better, and operations have never been smoother.

Though he did have to go back to New York for a little while before he could officially make the move over to the house next to yours, his absence was nothing like the first time.

This time, you knew he was alive and well. The two of your texted all day long, and would have conversations on the phone for hours on end about everything under the sun and nothing at all.

You'd send each other pictures of what you were doing throughout the day. Coffees in the morning, lunch with the Avengers, cakes you decorated that day, dinner with the girls, his fitting for a new suit, your outfit for that one bridal shower.

And in the loneliest hours, your sunflowers would glow. Sometimes if he was having trouble falling asleep in his bed all alone, he'd press his watch to see if you were awake.

Since there was a time difference, your necklace usually lit up around the time you were just getting home from work, so you were happy to make his sunflower glow. The two of you even made a little code.

Once was to say hi, a simple message to let each other know you we're thinking of them. Twice in a row was I miss you, three times was I love you.

Usually at night he would send one to say hi, and make sure you were there, and you would send one back. Then he'd send two to tell you he missed you, and you would send two back. Lastly he would send three, and you'd send three back.

It made you smile every single day. Such a simple, and easy way to know he was always with you even when he physically wasn't anywhere near.

Since he had been gone for two months, and you sill had a month and a half without him, you also took the time to really strengthen your social circle. With the loss of Georgia as your best friend, you found it a good time to really focus on other people in your life who meant a lot to you.

You felt comfortable with your friends now, confiding in them felt easier, hanging out with them felt like less effort, and every day you just felt better.

Steve did a lot to help you find acceptance in the blip, and in turn, he found his own as well. He reminded you that it was okay to start moving on from what was lost and start living your life to the fullest again. And that you did.

You still missed Georgia, especially this time of year. With a particularly traumatic event anniversary looming upon you and rapidly approaching, you found yourself wanting to knock on her door to talk about it. She was the only one who really knew the whole story, the only one that showed up for you that day when you needed someone.

Even though you desperately wanted to talk about it, somehow you couldn't let the words roll off your tongue to anyone. Not to Steve, not to your friends, and your therapist was blipped. Unfortunately, a lot of people turned to therapy after the loss of half the people in the universe which mean the waitlist to get a therapist in your insurance network was miles long.

You were close with your friends now, even best friends with some, but everyone's lives were so chaotic nowadays that you didn't want to trauma dump on them. And sweet Steve, states away in a city that was busy and a job that was even busier while packing up his stuff and arranging to move far away.

Deep down you knew if you told him he'd feel guilty for being so far, and once he knew, you knew he'd look at you through different eyes. Perhaps confiding from thousands of miles away would be easier, he'd had more space to process, and you wouldn't have to look him in the eye when you'd tell him why you've been so sad lately. But maybe from thousands of miles away, he didn't even have to know.

The last thing you ever wanted to do was burden anyone with your emotions. You didn't want to exist loudly in a room during a time that made you want to slip by completely forgotten.

And quite honestly, letting the words leave your mouth and settle into his ears made what happened to you even more real. It wasn't just a tale between you, your last lover, and Georgia.

It would be a real tragedy you'd have to face once more, over and over and over again.

Every morning you'd wake up and the date was displayed proudly on your phone screen, and every day counted down until the grand finale of your grief. Every day closer to the date was a day closer to putting that date behind you.

So, you decided to just be strong. Two more days and it would all be over again until next year. You'd put a brave face on, go to work to distract yourself, come home and go on a walk to distract yourself, dinner and a TV show to distract yourself, then go to sleep until it was time to do it again the next day.

The plan was working, in fact it had worked so well that you never allowed yourself time to process any of your emotions until it hit you like a tone of bricks the day before the anniversary.

It happened mid afternoon while at work while reading a custom cookie request for a baby's first birthday party. Wild one. Jungle animals, pretty monstera leaves, number ones with the little boy's name on them.

A knot formed in your throat faster than you could swallow it away, and tears filled your eyes and the need to cry stung your sinuses. The way you abruptly stood up from in front of the computer and announced you had to go scared pretty much every employee in the store at the time, but your body told you this was an emergency. It was like the building was on fire and every nerve was bouncing around in your brain telling you that exiting was your only means of survival.

You cried on your way home, you cried all the way up the stairs, you cried until you could change into comfortable clothes and get into bed. You laid there in silence and starred up at the ceiling for awhile. Day two of your period happening to fall during this time seemed like the universe laughing in your face. More pain, and heightened emotions. The palm of your right hand over your lower stomach, the palm of your left curled around your necklace.

Everything in you wanted to squeeze it to send Steve a little glow, you even wanted to call him to hear his voice for even just the slightest bit of comfort you could get, but once again, you just couldn't.

Steve was a smart man. He'd know a message from you around this time of day was out of the ordinary, he'd ask you about it, and you wouldn't be able to get yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't tell him what happened yet, still not ready for it to be true.

So you got out of bed and flipped through the hangers in your closet until you found his hoodie. You let it cover and warm your body like the big hug he'd give you if he was here right now, then crawled right back into bed. One hand on your lower stomach, the other clutching the sunflower.

You thought about him for awhile, how he'd react if you just doubled down and talked to him about what happened. The biggest part of you was terrified he'd be left feeling differently about you in the worst way possible, like telling him about the way a past man in your life had treated your body would make you unfavorable for him. But the smaller part of you knew he'd speak comforting words to you over the phone, and support you in anyway he could from so far away. He'd remind you that he'd be back sooner than you knew, he'd offer to fly over the moment he could. You really didn't want to bother him.

Fuck. You missed him. Okay, he gave you the necklace for a reason, you should just use it.

You squeezed it twice. I miss you.

You observed it in the palm of your hand for a while, waiting to see if he noticed you had sent him a little message.

Then, it lit up twice. I miss you too.

A long exhale passed your lips in an effort to take some calm breaths to convince yourself everything was okay. It's been three years now, that's 1,095 days you've survived since than, you have every means necessary to make it 1,096.

Then, your necklace lit up three times. I love you.

You squeezed it three times back. I love you too.

That little reminder was enough to snap yourself out of it for a while. You watched a movie in bed, took a shower, then called it a night early around 7:30pm. But you couldn't sleep, your mind was racing way too fast alongside your heart. A little while later, your phone rang beside you and you didn't even open your eyes to pick it up, you already knew who it was.

"Hi, baby" Steve's voice filled your room.

"Hi, love. How are you?" You asked, trying to sound normal. It didn't work.

"I'm good!" He answered. "I called you so you didn't get scared."

"Scared?" You questioned, throughly confused.

"Your front door is about to open, but it's fine. Don't worry about it." He said.

"...my front door? Is about to open? And I shouldn't be scared?" You reiterated.

"Yeah, it's totally fine. Pay it no mind." He confirmed.

You could hear the lock and knob rattling from downstairs, then the familiar sound of the door opening and closing.

"Okaaaaayy? Do I want to know who's in my house right now or should I just continue to pretend like this is totally fine and normal?"

"No it's definitely totally fine and 100% normal." He reassured. "Hey, why are all the lights off right now?"

"Are you in my house or is this like... some sort of Avengers secret spy thing and something is about to try and kill me but it's going to be fine because I'm on the phone with you?" You asked, heart rate increasing by the second.

"Everything is fine, including the footsteps up your staircase." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Steve..."

"I'm coming in"

You bedroom door knob turned before it opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Steve in cozy clothes with a backpack on his back and flowers in his hand.

"Surprise!" He greeted you with a big smile, and sleepy eyes.

"Steve! What the h- why are you here?!" You happily jumped out of bed and practically tackled him in the biggest hug you could manage.

"Cause I missed you!" He enthused, keeping his balance despite how much force you had used to knock into him.

"I missed you too!" You squeezed him tight. A hug from him was exactly what you needed right now.

“That conference thing next week got canceled and I had nothing on the schedule until then. I was already contemplating it, then you said you missed me so I hopped on the Jet and now here I am!"

You giggled before rocking up on your tippy toes to reach his lips for a kiss. "I'm so happy you're here!"

"I was just going to come in and walk up but I really didn't want to get the police called on me today." He explained.

"Yeah, that definitely would've scared the shit out of me." You agreed with a smile as you got a good look at his face. He looked tired, his eyes were sleepy and swollen, his shoulders and posture was relaxed, and his voice was raspier than usual. "You seem tired, are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine!" He assured you. "I did some agility training this morning and it kicked my butt. I'm just tired and sore."

"You? Sore?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately." Steve grinned, then he noticed your face. Your nose and eyes were red, they lacked that usual sparkle he was used to. The smile he loved so much seemed like it was the first time it occurred all day long. "Woah, Sunflower what's wrong?"

You watched his face change from happy to concerned in a split second. He set the flowers down on the dresser, and slipped his backpack off before setting it against the wall. "Oh, nothing I'm okay."

"At what point are we going to learn that I'll never believe that?" Steve denied your claim.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down on the edge of your bed and pat his lap, prompting you to sit. Unfortunately, even with him right in front of you, you still couldn't get yourself to talk about it. Only half the truth was going to have to make due for now.

Sitting sideways on his lap, you hid your face away in the crook of his neck and let his strong arms squeeze you tight and support your body as your curled up into a little ball. Right here, hiding away against his body and behind the protection of his arms was where you felt safest. You wished in that moment that you could spend the rest of today and all of tomorrow here.

"Didn't even realized how much I needed this until right now." You confessed, melting into him him butter.

"Talk to me, Sweetheart. What's going on?" Steve asked, pressing kisses to your forehead.

You sighed, feeling bad that this was supposed to be a happy surprise but you're ruining it for him. "Sorry, just- hard day at work, cramps, hormones making the hard day even harder." You explained.

"Really?! Didn't you just get your period like..." he counted on his fingers. "Four weeks ago?"

"Cruel isn't it?" He forced more smiles out of you.

"So cruel." Steve agreed. "What happened at work?"

"Super busy as usual, I just kind've felt like I was drowning all day and unable to keep up."

"I'm sorry, Baby." Steve pouted before kissing your cheek. He had a strong suspicion that there was more happening beneath the surface, but he also understood that it was getting late and his presence was unexpected. You probably needed more time to warm back up. "How can I make you feel better?"

"This is more than enough." You smiled, squeezing him tightly with your arms once more. "Thanks for coming."'

"Anything for you" He squeezed you back.

Since it was already pretty late and you were both tired, you got into bed and cuddled up close. Once again, you were amazed by Steve's ability to be by your side when you needed him most, even if he might not have realized how impeccable his timing was. His heart beating calmly and slowly against your palm did wonders to ground you, and the loving exchange of words and slow kisses calmed your mind from running too far ahead of itself.

Steve eventually drifted off, but sleep never arrived for you. Most of the night was spent staring up at the ceiling and holding Steve in the embrace he subconsciously had you in.

He had woken up a few times in the night completely unnoticed by you, or maybe you just didn't have the energy to acknowledge he was awake, but each time he caught you with a hand on your stomach and your eyes glued to the ceiling. At one point he even tried to help you. He trapped you in his arms and you hid your face into the crook of his neck once more, your legs tangled up with his and his warm hand cradled the back of your head. You kissed his neck in appreciation and really tried your hardest to turn your brain off.

Then, when Steve woke up the next morning you were out like a light. Your body was completely on top of his, and so relaxed you might as well have been a piece cooked spaghetti. He stayed with you for a while, making sure to massage your back and play with your hair, but he realized after a while that there were no signs you were anywhere near ready to wake up and function for the day. As carefully as he would diffuse a bomb, he slipped out from underneath you and tucked you back in super tight before kissing you goodbye and going for a run.

By the time he finished a disgusting amount of miles and actually tuckered himself out, he showered and made his way back to you. Carrying his feet up the stairs, he found you dressed for the day, hair done in a cute little clip, sneakers on your feet, but also slouched over with your head in your hands.

The sound of the door opening alerted you to pick yourself up, but it was no use. You couldn't even hide that you were miserable.

"Good morning, baby." You stuck your arms out for a hug.

"Morning" He leaned over and gave you one without question, before squatting down in front of you. "Still not feeling good?"

His face was full of so much sympathy it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry, but that wasn't an option right now. Not when your girls at the bakery called for help even though you blocked today off just for yourself. "Is it really that obvious?"

"You look beautiful," He kindly smiled as he took his hands into yours. "but you don't seem like yourself, and I can tell you didn't sleep much last night."

"I didn't, that's for sure."

"You have to go to work?" He questioned sadly.

You nodded with regret and apology. He flew all the way here just to see you, but all he got was the worst version of you and now none of you at all. "I'm sorry, the girls asked me to come in, they're drowning in work just like I was yesterday."

"No, don't be sorry." Steve reassured you, his kind smile persisting. "If you need help with anything just let me know, alright? You know I'm happy to help."

"Thank you, Stevie." This time you smiled. "I feel really bad that you came all this way to see me and all you've gotten is...this." You referred to yourself.

"Hey, don't say that." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not here to only love you when you're at your best, Sunflower. I love you just as much like this as I would if you were happy and bouncing off the walls."

"I love you so much." You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He kissed your cheek, then you pulled away. "You know if you ever want to talk about anything I'm here for you, judgement free right?"

"I know, and I appreciate that." You nodded, contemplating your words and desperately trying to find the right ones. Remembering the last time your trauma caused you to feel too scared to talk to him, a light clicked in your head when you remembered he thought it was his fault. "I'm going to be honest and say that today is going to be a hard day, but if you just give me until tomorrow I promise I'll be better."

"So there is something wrong?" He questioned gently, your hands shook in his hold so he rubbed the back of them with his thumbs.

You nodded. "I'm sorry. I just- I don't know how to talk about it. And I have to go to work for a while so I don't even want to open up a whole can of worms right before I have to go. It's been so busy I feel like I can't even breathe, plus with all of this it just feels like everybody wants too much from me-"

"Hey, it's okay, just take a deep breath." Steve reminded you. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I'm not going to make you. There's no timeline, you don't have to be better by tomorrow."

"I'm sorry" You apologized again, taking a deep breath.

"You're okay" He squeezed your hands. "I love you, and I want to support you the best way I can."

"I love you too. I'll see you when I get home?"

"I'll be here" Steve reassured you.

Work was fine for a little while, you were able to completely shut off the brain noise as you helped catch up on cake orders and played barista in the front. But a few hours before closing there was a huge rush, and it never slowed down until you had to cut off the customers from coming in at exactly closing time. Then there was so much to do that you couldn't even think about anything happening in your personal life if you wanted to. There were a million different things happening at once, each of your employees had a million questions for you, each question distracted you from every task from the long list you so desperately needed to complete.

You got yelled at by more than one customer, and it definitely wasn't a pleasant experience. Words of how you're a terrible person with worse business ethic were spat at you, reminders that you're a bitch and you lost customers over not serving chocolate chip cookies after closing time.

One woman even made a comment to you after calling you incompetent that made you hold back a laugh from deep within your soul. "I came all the way here to get the same treats Captain America eats and this is what I get? Steve Rogers would make sure everyone in line got something instead of cutting people off and sending them home empty handed."

You could've explained that every single one of your employees was already putting in more hours than normal. They were all exhausted, on overtime, and you were trying your hardest to not ware them all out more than you already have. You could've said the bake case was almost empty anyways, there wasn't even enough to serve everyone in line. You even could have even given them one of the last few pastries in the case to make up for the inconvenience, because really you did feel bad.

But instead, you condemned her for being rude to you. You stood your ground and asked her to leave. Normally you wouldn't stick up for yourself like that in the bakery, you always had a professional response to everything and any situation that was thrown your way. But there was an anger bubbling inside you since you woke up this morning.

Three years ago the universe took a lot from you, and today when you just needed to give back to yourself, you were met with nothing but people taking more from you.

Steve was at home waiting for your time, the girls needed your effort, the customers needed more than you could offer them. They called you names, you worked yourself to the bone, and you were harboring guilt all dealing with a plethora of your own issues. So yes, you yelled back at her.That wasn't something you were going to feel bad about. She had it coming.

However, the anger from the day boiled inside you as you closed the bakery and made your way home. Saying you were overwhelmed and overstimulated was an understatement, and knowing you had an opportunity for just a few moments of alone time was the only thing holding you together.

You rushed into your house like a tornado, the front door slammed behind you in your residual gusts of wind. Not even bothering to lock it, you bolted up the stairs, straight through your bedroom and right into your bathroom where you subconsciously slammed the door once more. The bath was filling with steamy hot water and bubbles from your favorite soap in an instant.

Being so laser focused on a long hot bath, and being so stuck in your own anger made you miss the way Steve was sitting on your couch. You missed him locking the door behind you with big wide eyes, you missed him calling after you, you missed the way you had slammed not only your bedroom door, but also your bathroom door right in his face as your ripped through your house.

Quite honestly, Steve was feeling deeply concerned. He had never seen you anything but quiet and gentle before. Even on your saddest days you walked gently as if the ground was made of wispy cotton candy, you moved calmly, everything you did was quiet. But this? This was like the Tasmanian Devil from looney toons had possessed his girlfriend. This had him timidly knocking on the bathroom door before he entered, which you also somehow seemed to miss.

He poked his head in but didn't dare to enter. You were ripping your shirt off and kicking your shoes off your feet at the same time. "Everything okay?" He asked quietly.

"Jesus Chris-"You shrieked and jumped out of your skin. "What the fuck- dude. Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I'm sorry, I thought you heard me." Steve defended himself. "I was calling after you, I knocked on the door."

"Okay well, obviously I didn't hear you." You snapped, immediately feeling guilty but also feeling completely unable to take down your attitude down a notch.

His eyebrows raised, feeling surprised by your reaction towards him. "Are you okay?"

"Im so tired of being asked that as if I'm some ticking time bomb." As you continued undressing, you glared at him. You fucking hated that question, especially at this moment when it was very obvious that you were not. But, you could tell that your defensiveness was making him defensive, and that made you all the more anxious but you just couldn't stop. "But i'm just peachy! Thanks for asking!"

"I'm not what you're mad at." He reminded you. "I'm not the enemy."

He was right, but telling by his tone he was definitely not happy with you. "Can I just get some time to myself?" You took some deep breaths, but your tone was still putting up its fight. "Maybe like an hour? Please?"

Though Steve knew you were going through something, this was the first time the two of you even had anything close to an argument. He was trying not to feel hurt but he couldn't get Georgia's words out of his head. They played over and over again like a record with a deep scratch in its grooves.

She'll love you so hard, but shut you out when things get emotionally tough in her head. So much so that it'll suffocate you.

"You're shutting me out." Steve mumbled. He didn't know if it was to himself or to you, but either way it slipped passed his lips.

"I'm not shutting you out, I just need an hour to pull myself together because I can't regulate my emotions right now and I don't want to hurt your feelings by saying something I don't mean." You explained, pulling your hair up into a bun while your heart raced out of your chest.

"Should I not have come?" Steve asked, hurt in his eyes.

"What?" You asked, slowly remembering something you had overheard but completely blocked out from your memory.

"I feel like I shouldn't have come here." He said again, this time he hurt your feelings.

That one line from him set you right back into the way things used to be with your ex. You shut down your own feelings to protect yourself, and started pushing him away. "Are you feeling suffocated?"

His head snapped up and his eyes burned holes into your body as you sank into the bath. "I'm sorry I don't understa-"

"If you feel suffocated you can just go home, breathe some fresh air somewhere I'm not." You spat, trying not to cry.

"You heard that conversation with Georgia?" He asked, finally piecing together the puzzle.

"My window was open, I had no choice." You explained. "I know that she probably planted a little bug in your head. You've probably been worried about it every day since she said that to you."

"Sunflower you can't just-"

"Can't what?" You spat, arms resting on the side of the tub. "Tell you I'm not in a good place and I need a day to just feel better again? Communicate that I need some alone time to avoid exactly what's happening right now? Tell you I already feel bad about how you came here just for me to be in a not so great mental state?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out so it snapped shut.

"I'm trying Steve. I'm trying to be better, trying to not be so... suffocating but right now I'm giving all I have. This is it. And if it's not enough, you can just go home and we can deal with this later. I have nothing left."

"I'll leave if you want me to, but I can't get the Jet out of the hanger until the morning." He grumbled.

"The Jet?" You questioned, the cracks in your heart shattered even deeper in your chest.

"You told me to go home."

You chuckled as to disguise the way your heat shattered at the confirmation of your worst fear. Greenwood didn’t feel like home to him, and you were holding him back in the small town when his heart beloved in a big city. "Well I thought we were both in agreement that your home was one door over."

Steve immediately realized the damage he had done and instantly felt terrible for misunderstanding you. The guilt squeezed his chest making it hard to breathe, now he was the one who needed some time to himself just to reassess the damage that had been done and formulate a way to properly fix it.

"It is but I thought you meant-" The words continued escaping him. He couldn't even formulate a proper sentence anymore. Honestly, each of his words dug him a deeper grave that he had to lay in so he just decided to shut up. That's probably what you wanted from the moment he accidentally scared you in the first place.

"If you don't feel like this is your home, it doesn't have to be." You scolded him. "And if I'm suffocating you, you don't have to stay here. No one is forcing you to put up with any of this."

"Yet I'm still here, aren't I?" He pointed out.

"I need an hour." You firmly set your boundary. "Minimum."

"That's fine. I'm just... I'm gonna go home." Steve mumbled.

"Guess I'll find out where that is later." You said your peace before letting the whole of your tired body sink into the hot water.

Steve watched your lip wobble and your eyes close as you settled into the tub. One single tear fell down your face as you took some deep breaths and waited for the sound of the door to slam shut. It never did, instead there were footsteps towards you and the gentlest of kisses on the crown of your head before he left and the door clicked quietly behind him.

You used a little battery powered remote to turn off all the bathroom lights, and let the tears fall quietly as you kept your eyes closed and made peace with not being okay for a while.

The warm water, small dark room, and a cozy scent felt like the best sanctuary away from the craziness of the world. The warmth and pressure of the deep water felt like the hug you really needed all day, and the lack of stimulants made you feel as though you could catch your breath again.

Meanwhile, Steve went home and set a timer on his phone for one hour and one minute. If you needed a minimum of an hour, that's what he would give you before letting you know what he so desperately needed you to hear.

Just as your mind relaxed and you felt like you had a good grip on your emotions again, Steve's alarm went off.

The completely dark bathroom illuminated with a soft golden glow, even with your eyes closed you could see it through your eyelids.

Slowly opening them, you counted three lights. I love you.

Your hand moved up from its spot on your lower stomach, and gripped the sunflower on your necklace.

You squeezed it three times. I love you too.

Watching his watch light up gave him enough courage to get off his ass and actually execute the very plan he thought of the moment he stepped out of your front door.

A little while later, your bath ran cold and your eyes grew heavy so got out and dressed yourself. You dragged your heavy feet down the stairs for a calming cup of tea to help you sleep, they shuffled on the hardwood floors of the first level and stopped in place when you saw a sleepy and sad Steve on your couch.

His blank stare at the tv was distracted by your entrance, so he sat up and started explaining himself. "You told me to go home, but my home is wherever you are so I settled for the couch."

Everything in you ached, and you hated every second of the little argument you just had.

"You don't have to talk about what's happening, and we don't even have to talk about what happened upstairs until you feel better, but I don't want you to be alone." Steve explained, keeping his voice mellow and calm.

In that moment, you surrendered. Your white flag waved high up on a pole, and you chucked all your fears out of the window.

What happened to you was real whether people knew or not, and you and Steve were already on a pretty rocky road. Whether this would patch up the potholes or open up a sinkhole didn't really matter to you anymore. You were just desperate to not feel so alone inside of your own head.

So you walked towards him and dove into his arms. Much like he did last night, he held you safely against his warm body without question.

No longer asking if you were okay, he just let you be sad. He knew now that not everything needed a solution, but you definitely needed support.

You stayed there for a little while, finding the strength to let him in while simultaneously basking in his body heat. Really, he thought you weren't going to speak another word until tomorrow morning. But when he heard your quiet voice tucked between his neck and shoulder he almost couldn't believe it was coming from you.

"Three years ago my ex shoved me down the stairs." You started. After that you almost stopped, you could've just left it at that. You even waited a few moments to see if he had a response to that, but it seemed like he was more so waiting for you to continue. "We had a really bad argument right in the hallway, well, it started in the bathroom and he led me to the hallway. Something I said really pissed him off and he shoved me backwards. I lost my balance, fell down every single step."

Steve's arms wrapped tighter around you, unsure of when or if he was supposed to say anything to you. But some arm rubs seemed to do the trick as you settled deeper into his body and opened your heart to him.

"When he recalls the story, he said I tripped over my own feet and for a little while I believed him." You added.

"We're you okay?" Steve practically whispered.

"We got into that really bad argument because he had gotten me pregnant on accident" You revealed, feeling nervous to the point of nausea.

Once again, he didn't know how to respond to that, but he let out a little grimace hoping that where he thought this story was going would end up a thousand times better than what was in his head.

"It was an accident but I was excited, I always wanted to be a mom and I knew I could do it whether he wanted to be present in it's little life or not. He wanted me to terminate the pregnancy pretty early on, but I convinced him to let me take charge. I would do everything on my own, he's never have to lift a single finger, that's what we agreed on." You explained. "I was 12 weeks along and we found out it was a boy. I was so happy, but he just... blew up. He said I was trapping him- intentionally trying to ruining his life because I had everything I wanted in the palm of my hand. It was that same day I just so happen to trip over my own feet."

"I'm so sorry." Steve already knew this had a bad ending, he couldn't even brace himself for it.

"Baby lost his heartbeat before I could even make it to Greenwood Medical. Georgia was out of town when it happened, I didn't want to upset my mom with the news and loss of a baby in the same phone call, and my ex said if I needed to deal with the consequences of my own actions so I was alone in the hospital room for four days after an emergency extraction and sustaining a plethora of other injuries until Georgia could come him." You continued the story. "She brought me home from the hospital and took care of me night and day for a whole week before convincing me to file a police report. But the second he found out that I was trying to take legal action against him, he packed all his stuff and left. We couldn't even find him to serve a restraining order against him after that, nobody even knew he was in Arizona until a year after he left."

"When he was found, was a restraining order served?" Steve questioned.

You nodded. "I'm usually okay. I can think about the baby without getting sad, I remember those 12 weeks through rose colored glasses even though I was so terribly sick every day. But this is the one time of year I can't beat it. I get angry that it happened, I just wanted to track him down and scream in his face, I just feel mad at the world when I see happy moms with their kids. And this year, my period just feels like a cruel reminder that I'm definitely not pregnant."

Steve kissed your head as he tried to find the right words to make it better, but nothing could. Quite honestly, if he had been through anything like that, he was sure he wouldn't be as put together as you were regardless of the argument you two had, and the fact that you felt like you were falling apart.

A lot of situations clicked into place through your admission. Your fear of the hospital, your subtle reaction to him asking if you wanted kids, your hand that never seemed to leave it's spot on your tummy while you stared up at the ceiling last night.

"I usually spend this day alone, but everyone needed a lot from me today. Work was stressful and customers were yelling at me when I already had very little to offer the world. I didn't mean to shut you out, and I definitely didn't mean to be rude. I just... snapped and I'm really sorry." You finally apologized feeling so much lighter already. "You didn't deserve my attitude, and you weren't what I was mad about."

"It's okay, I knew something was wrong and I let my own hard head get in the way." He accepted. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not really hearing what you were saying."

"I completely understand, if you didn't know I get that my behavior probably seems completely irrational and dramatic." You sympathized. "I think you handled it pretty well."

"Nothing about your behavior today has been dramatic, and I definitely didn't handle that well." He denied. "But I know now, and I'll do better next time. I'm so sorry that happened to you, Sunflower. I don't even know what to say, but I'm sure you've heard every bullshit greeting card invalidating response under the sun already."

"Oh trust me, I know I'm young and I could just pop out another one whenever I want to." You chuckled at the accuracy of his statement. "Don't worry, I know Jesus or god or whoever is up there has a baby ready for me whenever I'm really ready to be a mom."

Steve physically cringed at those two statements, "Is there anything I can do for you to make this day better?"

You shook your head with an artificial grin. "Your patience and understanding has been more than enough."

He kissed the top of you head, and thought long and hard about words he could speak to bring you comfort, but you spoke again before he did.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my pregnancy sooner. I wasn't trying to hide it or keep it a secret, it's just.... It's hard to talk about. And I found that when I told people I was always met with these pitiful looks and sentiments that always made me feel worse than when I just kept it all bottled up. It's also something that I definitely would've been punished for in the past and I'm just trying really hard to unlearn all of the fear that comes along with rebuilding healthy relationships. I'm never trying to push you away when things get hard or shut you out, sometimes I just get scared and I don't know how to handle it."

"Well I think you're doing a really good job." Steve softly grinned down at you. His praise warmed your heart and your cheeks. "I can't imagine any of that was easy, so thank you for sharing that with me."

"You make it easy." You let out a sigh of relief.

"You're always safe with me, Sunflower." Steve reminded you. "Always. I mean that. I'm here for you whenever you need me for anything no matter what. Nothing will ever change the way I love you."

"Our love for each other has been pretty unconditional so far hasn't it?" You giggled.

Steve thought about what you said before smiling in agreement. "Yeah, we have been through some crazy stuff together haven't we?"

"I'd say so." You agreed.

"Did he have a name?" Steve questioned.

"The baby?" You reiterated.

"Yeah" he nodded with a grin.

"I never got the chance to give him one" You denied, "but I was calling him cinnamon roll."

"Awww cause he was a little bun in your oven?" Steve pouted because it was just too cute to handle.

"Exactly"

"Well in all the time cinnamon roll had with you, all he ever knew was the best mama in the whole world." Steve acknowledged, not wanting to dismiss what your grief was reminding you off today.

You lip trembled despite your genuine smile, and your eyes filled with tears. "Damn it honey, I just stopped crying."

"It's okay to cry" He smiled with you, giving you another squeeze. "Shedding some tears is wonderful way to spend the day regardless of the pain. It's just a reminder of how much you really loved him and I think that's beautiful."

"Thank you, Stevie, for everything. You're the best person I've ever had in my life, and I love you so fucking much." You dug your face back into the crook of his neck feeling an overwhelming amount of love for the baby you never got to know and the man holding you close.

"I love you too." He gently rocked you.

"I think you'll be the best dad in the whole world one day." You thought out loud.

"And you're the best mom ever."

Once again, that statement made the tears fall past the surface point. Steve let you quietly cry in his arms until he unintentionally lulled you to sleep.

But tonight unlike any of the night of the previous three years, your tears were full of joy. And instead of drifting off and thinking of the loss and the what if's, you thought of something much happier.

You reminisced on all of the times, the years, you settled for scraps. The times of your life you begged of any ounce of affection and support, you thought you had to earn it. When you did, the attention was laced with rejection, resentment lingered through every word and every touch.

And now you got to fall asleep in the safety of the arms of your favorite person. His words came without incentive, you didn't have to beg for his touch. You didn't need to earn the tender moments or reassurance.

It all just came so easy.

Though religion was something that escaped you early in life, you were convinced this new life you had was good enough to be heaven sent, and Steve was the closest thing to a real life angel you'd ever see.

You slept soundly that night knowing that one day whenever you were ready, you'd have a little cinnamon roll to love for the rest of your life.

And maybe a honeybun.

Maybe a popover.

And with full confidence they would be half you, half angel.

Next Part: Everything will be Okay

Please note that I understand I’m covering heavy topics in this series, but I wholeheartedly believe it’s important to highlight an experience that is unfortunately very common in womanhood. To be anything but a cis white man is to fight in a world that wasn’t made for you, and I think writing only experiences of sunshine and rainbows for readers is a disservice to capturing living a human life. Much love and lots of light to everyone reading 🤍🌟

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @happinessinthebeing @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @Avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama @natashassandwitch @theroyalmanatee @calwitch @avengersinitiative2012 @rogersbarber @daddywattpad4945

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castieltrash1 · 9 months

Note

for the sleepover: noah when you're having a bad day...

i think the way he'd handle it differs a lot when he's younger/older, so post-war!noah will be under the cut! i hope this makes your day a little easier, anon <3

pre-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, mentions of fighting

seeing you sad is something noah loathes more than most things in life. he’s a generally sympathetic guy, even to complete strangers, but he's extra sensitive when it comes to you. if he had one wish, it’d be to make sure you never even frowned again. that’s why when you are feeling down, he’s wholly dedicated to getting a smile back on your face. he doesn’t have much to his name but he’s determined, and the devotion he has toward your happiness results in a few too many creative remedies. flowers, of course, wild and pulled straight from a field he’s taken you to for picnics before. if you’re more of a sweet tooth, he’ll spend his last dime getting your favorite candy, tying a loose ribbon around it for added effect. he’ll sing, dance, and even tell bad jokes recited directly from a brightly colored book of gags.

since he knows he can’t offer you a lot in other areas of life, noah tries to make it up to you in moments like these. if he can’t cheer you up quickly he’ll feel bad about himself, doubting his abilities to give you something as simple as happiness. of course, most of the time your negative emotions aren’t related to him at all, but that doesn’t mean he won’t internalize any sadness you do project. if you are sad about something he’s done or a situation between you two, he’s adamant about fixing it. at first, it might just seem like he wants to kick your relationship issues under the rug, but he eventually tells you that he knows life is short, and would rather spend every second he has with you feeling nothing but joy.

“we can’t just run away from this, noah! you really hurt my feelings.” swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to hold your voice steady as you confront him. “don’t you care about what i think?” you ask, feeling your skin grow warm in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, the latter of which only grows with each passing second that your boyfriend stands frowning in front of you.

“y’know i do,” noah replies, softening his tone after his earlier outburst. he takes a step closer to you with his palms outstretched, eyes wide and hopeful. “i just don’t like it when we fight. don’t see a point in all of it.”

“couples fight, noah. it’s normal.”

his lips quirk at the corners and, when you finally let him interlock his fingers with yours, a small smile spreads across his face. “can’t we just be happy instead?” you scoff, trying not to give in to his persuasive words and the way his thumb rubs gently against the back of your hand. you’re already forgetting what the fight was even about and why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder these past few days. “c’mon, you forgive me, don’t ya?”

sighing, you pull him closer. “i really don’t know how you do it.”

“is that a yes?”

+ if you like being left alone when you’re sad, you’re dating the wrong guy. as long as you’re feeling down noah’s gonna be stuck to your side like glue no matter where you are. even if you're in the bathroom he’ll be sitting outside humming to himself, trying to strike up a conversation through the door. the last thing he wants is for you to be sad and lonely, so if he can only take care of one of those problems for now don’t expect him to be leaving anytime soon.

post-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, v slight mentions of depression/ptsd

after the war, noah’s naive, narrow view of the world and other people’s emotions within it develops into a much more mature perspective. it’s an unspoken thing, really, and he only brings it up off-handedly in rare moments that you collect over years of being with him. he’s seen and dealt with things he’d never dreamed of when he was younger and the effects of those situations are obvious in the way he treats you; especially if you knew him before and can see a direct contrast to his previously blind optimism.

instead of trying to “fix” your bad mood, noah just lets you embrace it. he knows that sometimes there isn’t much to do but ride out the wave of emotions until it subsides. of course, he’ll do whatever he can to make your day even a little easier, but he won’t let you feel guilty for wallowing in it either. sure, he can show some tough love, but he’s a real softie for you! he'll only lash out if your negativity is targeted toward him specifically, otherwise, he sees no reason to add to your already lousy day. when he is the problem, well, the sight of your tears is enough for him to drop his grudge (eventually.)

“we spendin’ all day in bed?” noah asks, the mattress sinking slightly as he sits beside your curled-up form. “'s beautiful outside.” when you peer over the comforter to look at him, you find his gaze already fixated on the view from your bedroom window, a hint of a smile hiding beneath his untamed beard. the normally cheerful tune of the birds' morning call only serves to remind you of your own lingering sadness, and you let out a heavy sigh.

“right, well…” noah shifts, and you close your eyes, waiting for the sound of the door closing behind him as he goes to start his day. “c’mon, darling, scooch over.” instead, his rough palm pats your hip, determination clear in his steady tone.

you sit up a little, brows furrowing. “aren’t you gonna go out?”

he shakes his head, crawling under the various quilts and blankets thrown across your bed the second you give him enough space. “and leave you here to mope all by yourself?” his fingers dig into your sides, urging you closer until he can press a ticklish kiss to your bare shoulder. “nah…” the gentle touch of his lips lingers and he only continues once you’ve settled against him. “i think i can stay a while longer.”

+ noah is, underneath all the bluntness, surprisingly rational. if your bad mood is the result of a less-than-ideal situation, he’s a great man to have talk you through it. he’ll take you out for a drive, boat ride, or even just a walk, letting you rant about whatever is bothering you before offering his own advice. as long as you take it with a grain of salt, and execute the delivery with a bit more decorum, his suggestions can be a lot of help!

gosling sleepover sunday (no longer taking requests!)

#noah calhoun #ryan gosling #the notebook #noah calhoun x reader #noah calhoun fluff #the notebook fluff #t: writing #answered #anonymous

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angelzofdecay · 1 year

Text

Aftermath Blade x gn reader

Summary: after a mission goes horribly wrong you run to the only person you believe can comfort you. CW: cursing, violence, ptsd, blood, fluff, blade is gentle, ps he's only doing this bc it's you, hurt with comfort, happy ending. AN: I can't get this man out of my head so here's a short but sweet oneshot. I head canon that he's a mix of tsundere and yandere so that is totally reflecting in my writing.

As a trailblazer, you had encountered many monstrous beings before. However, this particular encounter felt different. The assignment was initially planned to be a simple one, but upon your arrival, the level of the curse suddenly transfigured to a huge fucking problem.

The creature's physical appearance was almost human-like, except for its nearly translucent skin and intricate armor adorning its body. Its muscular build was cloaked in an aura of immense power, making any attempt to replicate it seem futile. The sheer energy emanating from the beast was so intense that you found yourself trembling on your knees as you tried to stand firm. You completely forgot about the newbie who had tagged along with you.

Neither of you were prepared for this at fucking all.

It blitzed towards you with insane force, leaving you with scarcely any time to protect yourself before being hurled through three solid walls. The intense agony rippled through every fiber of your being, almost rendering you immobile in its wake. It was at this moment, right before its fist went through your skull, your temporary teammate sprang into action, jumping in to save your life.

You could make out the sounds of a blood curdling scream, bones breaking, and a powerful technique being released. It all felt miles away yet deafening at the same time. As your body was writhing in pain, you could feel your adrenaline surging, propelling you into action. Finally, with a sudden burst of energy, you managed to strike the final and fatal blow. But alas, it was too little too late to protect the life of Yukine...

The car ride back home began with a heavy silence. There was no conversation to be had, no words exchanged between the driver and yourself. Maybe the reason for the lack of communication was the fact that your throat was sore from crying or screaming, but in reality, it was just you. Your mind was in turmoil, unable to comprehend or articulate anything. The only thing it could focus on was replaying the events from earlier, over and over again. You felt a sense of terror grip you like never before - it was a fear so real and so palpable that it consumed your thoughts entirely, leaving little room for anything else.

Blade

Blade, patiently waiting for your return at home. Would he scoff at your perceived weaknesses or worse, abandon you entirely for your poor actions? You couldn’t help but painstakingly wonder what his reaction will be to the news that you failed to save someone's life today. In failing to do your job, to be strong, you let down not only yourself, but the one you cherished deeply. As a trailblazer, you know all too well how unforgiving this world can be, especially towards those who falter in their duties. But how would Blade treat your failures…

The car came to a screeching halt as you arrived at his home, your home. “Miss, I really recommend you go and see a doctor…” His plea fell on deaf ears as you stepped out of the car. You kept your head low as you reached the doorstep… What were you going to do when he opened it?

You knocked once, twice, three times before your hand fell limp at your side. The sounds of his shoes pattering against the floor caught your attention. Each heavy and calculating step made your heart jump. The creaking sound of the door being opened, the light illuminating from the entrance, and the confused look on his face when he gazed at you sent you into a frenzy.

“What the hell happened?” Tears began to pour from your eyes, you stumbled forward reaching for any type of solace. “I-I-m sorry” you hiccupped through sobs as you profusely apologized for how badly this assignment went. You practically fell into his arms, the warmth radiating off of his body enveloping you. One of his large hands reached up to run his fingers through your disheveled hair.

“It’s alright, I’m gonna get you fixed up.” His face remained frozen in an unbothered expression; lips stuck in a thin line. If only you could see the shock and hurt in his eyes you would know he cared. Comforting another person was not his forte. Nor was he very good at taking care of another life besides his own… But he knew what it was like to fail, to lose, and to believe there was no coming back from it. Blade did what he assumed any person would do, he took care of you.

He lifted you from the floor with ease, carrying you bridal style to your destination. The restroom, you desperately needed a bath. You couldn’t process him delicately undressing you or eyes only temporarily lingering on the delicate parts. You could hear the water running and his feet shuffling but the noise in your mind blurred it all. How many times must you relive it before you could have peace?

Blade gently washed the dried blood from your hair. His long fingers running through the knots and lathering them with soap. His moves were far more delicate when he scrubbed the blood from the rest of you, carefully avoiding intimate parts. The water was quickly turning a dark brown, but the smell was graciously covered by jasmine scented body wash. Throughout the entire bath you did not look at him, you did not move. You were still frozen in time, still stuck in that place.

He adorned your body in the softest silk robe you had ever felt… Definitely out of both of your pay grades. Blade sat you on the edge of the toilet, getting on his knees so he could do his work. It’s important to note he never gets on his knees. He meticulously searched your skin for any wounds, glancing up at you to search for any sign of discomfort.

He wasn’t a natural healer by nature, but he had his fair share of injuries. Any cut that remained was rubbed with medicinal lotion and wrapped so it wouldn’t get infected. He took his time with each injury, ensuring your comfort above all. It was odd, in all the time he’s known you there was never a situation where you were this quiet. And yet, it was the most comfortable silence of his life.

There was no way in hell you were going to be able to eat tonight. He knew that the sight of anything edible would probably cause you to empty the rest of your stomach contents on his floor. He opted to immediately take you to bed and pray a good night's rest would fix you… Though he doubted you would be capable of sleeping after that.

It was surprising, the way he gently laid you down and tucked you in. You were enjoying every second of the attention though you didn’t show it. His presence was fighting against your thoughts and forcing them away. You had a single moment of clarity when he turned to leave.

“Stay…”

“Please.”

You grasped his wrist, pleading with your eyes. Blade appeared far more shocked than you imagined. This was the most expressive face he’s had since you met. He took a moment to process, to ponder, before he made his choice. “Move over.”

He slid under the covers next to you, pulling your arms so they wrapped around him, and you were firmly pressed under his chin. His heartbeat, his breath, his warmth, everything about him was lulling you into a sense of ease. You raised your head to admire him just once, carefully gazing at every detail and embedding it into your brain permanently.

His lips curved slightly, in an almost unnoticeable smirk. Then the other most unexpected thing happened that day… Blade gently pressed a kiss to your temple. His soft lips blessing you with their touch. “You’ll be okay, I got you.”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #blade x you #blade x reader

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thewayuarent · 7 months

Text

About choices

And about Sand’s choices mostly

(there are spoilers to the next episode in here if you try to avoid them)

I found myself using the word pathetic to describe literally any character in this show by that point and while I do it ironically I think it doesn’t fit for me anymore. I’m also way far to be the only one using it especially when discussion is about Sand.

And the thing is - I don’t think he’s pathetic about Ray. I also think after this episode that I’m actually really proud of him. And while I have that very uneasy feeling every time I watch Sand yielding to Ray - I work hard to find my peace with it and be fine with that.

Because he’s making his choice and it’s not my place to judge him for that. Because I don’t want to do with Sand the same exact thing Top and Cheum do with Mew - questioning his life choices and blame them on Ray. Because Sand is an adult and he has a right to make his own decisions.

This episode is actually the first time I see Sand being honest about his feelings with Ray. This scene right here - is about Sand admitting his feelings.

Maybe he doesn’t say it as it is, he still uses sarcasm cause of course he would - but he also clearly hurt and he doesn’t hide it away as usual. This is also the moment I believe Ray realizes for the first time that he means something for Sand.

And after that conversation, after him not responding to messages and staying his ground, the next thing is he’s being smitten with Ray again.

And it’s so fucking understandable. He’s not pathetic. He’s just in love. And he allows himself that moment of weakness just because he wants to spend this time or more time with Ray. Simple as that.

And after that absolutely gross terrible shit Ray has an audacity to tell in his face - Sand is still here.

And it’s not only about him helping Ray with cops. Cause this one understandable as hell at least for me. Police brutality is not a fun thing to experience at all (I experienced it ones after anti-war protest and I live in Russia so I know that shit). And no matter how angry I am at someone I won’t let them get through it alone, I will help them in situation like this absolutely. And I would definitely not let an addict with severe mental illness get to a fucking jail, are you kidding me? Even Top was like nope and he hates Ray.

Even if we all know that this is way more dangerous for Sand, cause Ray has money while Sand doesn't. Even if I think the right choice for Sand would be thinking about himself not Ray here just for a reason of being save - I would do the same thing. I spend one night in jail as a queer person and I still have a PTSD 1,5 year later. I know it was an impulse from Sand I know it's fucking dangerous and he's risking everything. I know it's stupid thing to do - and still I do not judge him for that.

But this is also about the next week preview. This is about Sand forgiving Ray once more. Giving him another chance. And the answer to the question “How will they end up like this after that disaster of a party?” - well, it’s because that what Sand wants. (And Ray also wants it obviously but we’re not asking him here, he’s sitting in a corner thinking about his behavior)

And the important thing here is - Ray is not the only one Sand gives this chance to. He gives it to himself also. And this is about him as much as about Ray. Because Sand was hurt before. And he closed up after that. And he only now allows himself to be honest with Ray for the first time. It not even as much in this conversation

- cause he’s probably doesn’t have the best control of his emotions so it can be unintentionally.

It’s this one we haven’t seen yet.

He lets himself be honest. And that means he gets himself an opportunity to feel and maybe to be happy but also to be hurt again. And this is a good thing, actually.

Because this is how life works. You can either choose to guard yourself or risk it without knowing for sure where it brings you.

And maybe it won’t last long. Maybe it’s only for a brief moment when they physically move themselves away from the reality - but it does count. And those moments? They matter as much as bad ones.

I personally do believe they are eventually doomed by narrative - and not because of love triangle or Ray's addiction, but because of the clear power imbalance this relationship build on. But while it's my personal belief, it's clearly not Sand's, at least in the moment. And it's his right to allow himself this chance - himself, not Ray.

Sand does deserve better. Yes, absolutely. He deserves to be loved and respected (you hear me Ray? I said respected) and not played around. People say it all over again and I’m definitely one of them. But the reality is, love is not only about what we deserve. And it’s not even only about what we feel. It’s about what we choose. And why it’s not for everyone to understand why Sand chooses Ray, it’s not our place to judge. It’s his choice. So if that what he wants I will support him.

The only boundary Sand semi-successfully holds is not being the second choice. He doesn’t let Ray do that to him - and it seems like he won’t in a future. And this is important cause it shows that Sand doesn’t completely betray who he is for Ray.

For all the other things - Ray saying (every time while being wasted as hell) things that probably for many people unforgivable - and I do respect that - well, Sand forgives him. And it doesn’t make him weak or stupid. It makes him who he is.

I was there before more than I would like to. My father is an alcoholic and sometimes when he’s drunk he says terrible things. It’s complicated cause he never allows himself this when he’s sober. And I know that alcohol doesn’t makes him different person, it’s still him. But I also know that condition brings worst in him. Things he actively fights all the time but that are still there. And when he’s sober - sometimes he apologizes. Sometimes he doesn’t remember. I choose to forgive him every time - not only for him but for myself. Does it makes me weak? I don’t think so.

Ray’s addiction is not his whole personality, but it’s a big part of who he is and it explains - not excuses - a lot about how he behaves. And being with addicted person is hard and exhausting and it’s not for everyone. It’s a personal choice - there’s no right or wrong here. Sand makes his.

Love is always about choice. And it’s not only about Sand, actually. It’s about all of them.

Mew doesn’t deserve being cheated on but it’s his choice to forgive Top or not, not ours. And my bet he will.

Top and Boston don’t deserve their sex being recorded and released but it’s up to them if they forgive anyones involved. And my bet they will. Top already running after Mew and Boston continues to add himself in this friend group, so they are already partially there.

Ray doesn’t deserve being dragged around by Mew to be his revenge supply, but it’s his choice to play along. And yes, he’s not that stupid, he clearly knows Mew’s reasoning.

Nick doesn’t deserve being betrayed by Sand, but he made a choice to forgive him and stay friends with him and trust him again anyway.

And this list is endless, this is just some examples. They all do messed up stuff to each other, hurt each other and then move on. They could honestly stop any relationship any character has with others but they all are still here. They won't be forever, probably, but for now, yes, and it's their rigth. This is how we’re growing up.

Sand knows exactly how Ray is. He’s not deceived about it. He sees Ray for what Ray is - all good and bad and charming and struggling parts of his personality. He actually always knew and he falls for Ray being himself not some pretty image of him. He knows Ray is far from perfect. He knows Ray doesn't respect him - he was there being called a whore and again with this stupid possesive rant. He was hurt by Ray way more than once.

And he perfectly rigth saying they have nothing in common - they are from different worlds and they always will.

But he's wrong about it at the same time. Cause it’s music, and also parental issues, and the ability to have fun with each other. It’s also Ray saying he’s in his happiest with Sand

which is absolutely mutual in their good moments. It’s about freedom they find in each other - Ray from his pain and Sand from his exhausting daily routine. It’s also about their shared need to be needed. It's not enough for stable relationship cause their differences are way bigger, but that's enough for him to be willing to give it a try.

Their bond is not healthy or romantic but it still deserves a chance to be. And I love how this show never tries to romanticize any of it. It’s always a complex mix of feelings because they are in wrongs so many times and every time you feel like it’s enough but this moment is still not here. And one minute they are broken but the next they are happy and then broken again and this is how life works.

They are so, so young and it’s not only about age (cause I’m not that much older than them but honestly I remember myself in 22 and I was a whole different person) but also about the amount of experience they have in their lives. About the dynamics they have and patterns they are stuck in. And this is always about getting this new experience and it’s not pleasant all the time but there are still moments when it is.

As for Sand - he’ll be alright. He is alright honestly. He’s not fooling himself into believing that his love will “fix” Ray. He’s just there both for Ray and for himself. And about what Sand deserves? He deserves exactly that, because that is what he wants. He deserves it for the sake of learning and feeling and growing up thanks to that experience.

He doesn’t need to be saved from Ray simply because he made his choice. Because it's not about Sand patheticly falling for Ray's needs.

It's about Sand meeting his own.

And while it not necessary to agree with him, or understand him, it's at least worth an acceptence.

#only friends meta #ofts #only friends the series #only friends #sandray #only friends sand

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smartycvnt · 8 months

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Boogeyman

Title: Boogeyman Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Reader Prompt: "I've got you, go back to sleep." R WC: 538

JJ had been tossing and turning all night, to the point where Y/n was unsurprised to find the woman sitting up in bed in the middle of the night. There had once been a time whenever JJ would awake to find Y/n in the same position, but together, they learned to work through it. The nightmares were only temporary. The world was full of things to help the PTSD and guilt from the things that Y/n had done overseas. Patriotism meant nothing whenever she returned home a broken woman. JJ seemed to understand that. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop every killer from getting their victim.

The case that JJ had left on most recently had to have been a bad one. JJ refused to talk about it with Y/n. Garcia had given a warning that it had fucked with everybody, and after reading up on teh town where JJ had run off to, Y/n understood why. The killer had been a couple of teenage boys, ones who had been close in age and looks to JJ's. Y/n had seen the therapist papers that came with a shooting. She didn't have to be a genius to connect the dots. Especially not since she couldn't remember the last time JJ hadn't picked the boys up on her way back from a case just to hold and be close to them.

"JJ, what's wrong?" Y/n asked. It felt best to start simple, and that was an easy enough question for JJ to answer. They could build to what was really wrong from there. JJ didn't have to lie to Y/n because they were well past the point of Y/n believing that nothing was up.

"Those boys, they're dead, and whenever I close my eyes, I see mine in their place. Henry and Michael, they're good boys, but I can't help but wonder if they could be capable of doing that," JJ said. Y/n hadn't expected her to open up quite so much, but her counseling classes had been going well, so Y/n thought she'd be equipped to handle this conversation. It was bound to come up sometime. JJ's sons were getting towards the age that a lot of their unsubs were, and Y/n knew that JJ just wanted to make sure that her sons were going to be good men.

"I haven't been here for everything, but I've seen more than enough to know that you raised your sons to know the difference between right and wrong. They're kind, JJ. Far too kind to even think of doing something like that to someone, whether they deserved it or not," Y/n reassured JJ. The blonde leaned into Y/n's arms to seek out a comfort that she had been avoiding for the past week because she didn't believe she deserved it. The cases with kids always hit hard, especially whenever they were the ones doing the killing. "I've got you, go back to sleep."

"I'm going to call them in the morning, before they go to school," JJ said.

"Then get to sleep or neither of us will wake up in time."

#my writing #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau

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venusvity · 3 months

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정윤아 … … ( I HAVE KNOWN. )

❝If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.❞ ― Tennessee Williams, Conversations With Tennessee Williams

CHARACTERS : JUNG YOONAH … KANG JUWON … SON JINHWA

WORDS : 3.7K

WARNINGS / NOTES : Therapy. Mentions of Murder, Depression, and PTSD. Abusive and weird obsessive boss. Discussions of an abusive relationship. If I missed something let me know! This piece is old, I've reworked it, and am really pleased with how it turned out! I believe this would take place in either 2019/2020 but this is set in the past! I just wanted to put it back into the universe :) Thank you so much for reading! rbs, comments, and asks are always appreciated ♡

“Do you want to be here, Yoonah?”

Yoonah looks around the therapist’s office, sighing through her button nose before nodding.

“Yeah.”

Doah’s pen skates across her notepad, causing Yoonah’s eyes to fall down to it. She barely said anything, why is she writing?

“Are you in a relationship right now?”

Yoonah has to think about it. She thinks about it for a few beats, eyes scanning over the door as she waits for the words to come to her. Doah waits. Even if Yoonah doesn’t speak, she gets paid. She’ll let her take her time.

“Yeah, I’m seeing…men.”

“How many men?”

A pause.

“One,” Yoonah looks towards the window now, “And a half.”

“And a half?”

Yoonah smiles towards the door where outside sits a man, waiting for his appointment to start. He’s different from the boys she usually talks to. When they were in the waiting room, he talked to her passionately about the book he was reading, she doesn’t remember what book but she remembers the beaming smile on his face when talking about it. His name is Juwon. He’s in a band. He’s a vocalist and plays bass. Yoonah likes him. She wants to spend more time with him.

“I’m working on one.” Her words make Doah chuckle through her nose, writing that down before looking up and at Yoonah.

“And the one you’re not working on?”

“Jinhwa.” It’s a simple answer, causing Doah to nod. She writes the names down but never looks away from Yoonah.

“And would you consider that a healthy relationship?”

Yoonah opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. It takes her a second, staring out the window, counting the droplets of rain that hit it. She gets to fifteen before she finally has an answer.

“Not really.”

Doah nods, jotting that down.

“Let’s start there,” Doah hums, finally, putting her pen down. Yoonah feels like a weight is lifted when the pen is put down. She swallows, looking towards the door again, shifting in her seat. She hates talking about herself, her problems, her relationships, all she’s been through, she hates it all. It feels so selfish.

“Why don’t you think that relationships is healthy, Yoonah?”

Yoonah takes a deep breath through her nose, looking up now before back at the gold doorknob.

“Jinhwa…is my boss,” Doah’s writing again, it’s making Yoonah’s fingers twitch, picking at her ripped jeans. “But he loves me. I love him too. I’m not dumb though. I know, like, fucking your boss won’t have, like, the best relationship dynamic.” She’s talking more but it’s to defend herself, to defend Jinhwa. She’s fighting a one-sided battle because Doah doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“But I’m a grown woman. I can make my own choices and I want to be with him even if it is inappropriate. I don’t care,” Yoonah continues, still fighting a battle with no competitor. It’s like she’s arguing with herself but not really. Doah nods, tilting her head at Yoonah.

Doah nods, hooded eyes scanning over Yoonah’s appearance, motioning to her own hair with her pen.

“Is that why you cut your hair? Because of something he did?”

Yoonah looks down at the now decent-sized hole in her jeans, swallowing when she thinks of what she deems the first domino. It wasn’t all Jinhwa’s fault, she had been spiraling for a while at that point, sure, they were getting bad again but there were other things that contributed to her tipping point.

“No,” She sounds uncertain because she is. Did she chop her hair off because truly hated her reflection or did she chop her hair off because she wanted Jinhwa’s attention? As she thinks harder about it, she doesn’t know. “I don’t know.”

“Yoonah, do you feel safe around Jinhwa?”

“Sometimes,” She hates how fast she answers and she hates how uncertain she sounds. She’s a good liar, she knows she is, but she’s never been so backed into a corner in her life.

“And when do you not feel safe?”

Silence. Longer than normal.

“Does he hits you?” Doah prods. Yoonah crosses her arms across her chest.

“I don’t care if he hits me.”

“So he does hit you?”

“No,” Yoonah pauses, “He’ll grab me sometimes.”

“Is that when you feel unsafe?”

“Sometimes.” She’s answering quickly now, out of spite. She’s mad. She doesn’t want to be here, she doesn’t want to talk about her life or relationships with a stranger, she doesn’t want to do it.

“What does he do when he grabs you?” Doah asks, raising her brows. Yoonah decides she’s talking too much, giving Doah too much ammo like this is some war and not a therapy appointment but she keeps going. This is the one place she feels like she could keep going and never face any repercussions.

“He yells at me.”

“What does he say when he yells at you?” There’s a silence between them where the women just stare at each other, one tapping her pen while the other digs her nails into her own sides.

Jinhwa only yells at her when she “goes off the deep end” or whatever he calls it when Yoonah starts expressing her emotions to him. She’s never been good at expressing her emotions even when she was a child her mother would tell her stories of the hour-long fits Yoonah would have because she didn’t get what she want or because she didn’t understand something.

“He…He just yells at me. I don’t know.” Yoonah sounds smaller, looking down at the ugly grey carpet.

“When does he yell at you? What leads up to that?” Doah asks, her brows softening, giving her a more compassionate look.

Beneath the facade she’s built, Yoonah’s heart is gentle. She is kind and cares for others even when their best interest is to her detriment.

Yoonah shrugs. She doesn’t want to do this anymore. She doesn’t feel say talking about Jinhwa like this. It feels like he’ll find out what she’s saying and use it against her. The silence is thick and long between the pair. Doah looks up at the clock with a sigh

“I’ll see you next week.” They still have 30 minutes left in their session but Yoonah always left early. It’s not her dime this is on. She doesn’t care. She leaves without a second thought. Doah knows she’ll be back, she always comes back, this is mandated by her company, Yoonah has to come back if she wants to keep doing her job.

Yoonah walks down the hallway and into the waiting room where she hopes to maybe see Juwon before she leaves but it’s an empty room. It makes her sigh, pressing the back of her hand against her teary eyes as she quickly walks out of the office and towards the black car that waits out front for her.

SESSION 002

Juwon is a beautiful boy. He had big black eyes and short black hair that looked silky to the touch. He has a famous face she’s seen before, she knows he’s in that group with that boy in it. Juwon hasn’t spoken much about his group or his friends for that matter, she doesn’t even know if he’s friends with the boys in his group.

He mainly talks about his family. His father more specifically and how he wasn’t a nice man before he passed. Yoonah tells him that he can meet her dad one day, her dad is nice to everyone and would love to meet Juwon.

Yoonah likes Juwon. She likes him a lot.

“He sounds…insufferable,” Junwo laughs, shaking his head as Yoonah nods.

“He is.”

Juwon looks amused but bewildered, brows furrowing at her response.

“And you’re still with him?” Juwon asks, causing Yoonah to think for a few beats, looking up before shrugging.

“We’re, like, still together. We sleep with other people a lot.” She doesn't mention that Jinhwa doesn't know about most of them.

“Who have you slept with?” Juwon asks, genuinely curious. His curiosity makes her laugh again.

"A couple of people..." Yoonah sings jokingly, laughing to herself as flashes of people she's slept with appear in her head. She can't remember their names, but she remembers how their lips tasted.

Juwon makes an amused sound at that, laughing softly as he looks down at the book in his lap.

“You’re very interesting, Yoonah,” Juwon tells her, making her smile sweetly. Interesting. She can’t remember the last time she’s been called interesting. It makes her chest warm.

“You’re wasting your time with that guy, Jihan?”

“Jinhwa.”

“Ah,” Juwon doesn’t seem interested in his name, “Men like that don’t change. Don’t waste your time.”

Yoonah learns more and more she hates when anyone who aren’t herself talks about Jinhwa. They never have anything good to say, they just tell her to leave. She gets it. She’s just tired of hearing it.

“I know,” Yoonah answers dryly, causing Juwon to look up at meet her gaze. They lock eyes for a few beats before Yoonah raises her brows, unimpressed. “All men are like that though.”

Juwon shrugs, not moved.

“Yeah, maybe, but not all men will have you mother their child,” Juwon says simply, brows raising as well as if he’s mimicking her. It makes Yoonah laugh through her nose, looking down at her hands, and sighing softly. She hates it when people are right about Jinhwa. She hates being wrong in general.

“Got me there,” Yoonah says as she kicks the agergous looking carpet under her feet. She looks up at Juwon once again. Neither of their therapists had come out yet. It makes her brain spark to life, biting the inside of her cheek as she smiles.

“We should leave.”

“Leave?” Juwon repeats. Yoonah nods.

“Yeah, we can walk somewhere.”

“But our managers–”

“We come back before they come,” Yoonah shrugs. It’s clear she lives more on the edge that Juwon does. She stands, putting her hands out to him, smiling sweetly. “It’ll be fun! We can be each other’s therapists.”

Juwon laughs up at her, smiling. He’s beautiful when he smiles, Yoonah thinks as she fights the urge to take his face into her palms.

Juwon hesitantly takes her hands into his, standing up.

“Let’s go.”

SESSION 003

“Tell me about your childhood,” Yoonah says as she and Juwon sit in a meadow adjacent to the park that's a few blocks away from their therapists’ building. Juwon laid his jacket down for her to sit on. He’s a true gentleman in Yoonah’s opinion.

Juwon’s eyes widen as his brows go up, sighing and shaking his head.

“Um, not great,” Juwon starts, laughing softly as he picks at a blade of grass. He tears the blade of grass to shreds. “I had a sister. She died when I was four. That’s when my mom said my dad started,” he twirls his finger next to his head, shaking his head, “Losing it. She thinks he blames himself for her death. It was a car crash and he was driving, so, I bet he did but he never talked about it. He was just…fucking mean,” Juwon shrugs, plucking another green blade of grass. Yoonah rubs her lips together as he speaks, watching his fingers nimbly move against the blade of grass, shredding it to pieces.

“Is he why you’re going to therapy?” Yoonah wonders, causing Juwon to scoff, shaking his head.

“No. My company said I needed to after what I saw,” Juwon says like she should know what he’s seen. She does know. All of Korea knows. It’s tragic and she can’t imagine going through what Juwon went through. Juwon shrugs. “And they’re right. That’s not a…Not a normal thing to see.”

A pause.

“It really does mess with your brain. ‘Seeing someone die,” Juwon adds, like he’s acknowledged his own trauma for the first time. “I honestly thought I was doing fine until my company stepped in.”

“What were you doing to make them step in?” Yoonah wonders, still watching his hands. She wants to hold them but she doesn’t reach towards him, not yet.

Juwon shrugs.

“I just…slept all day. I just laid there like I was in a coma or something,” She looks up when he speaks, looking at his face to see his sad gaze. He has naturally sad eyes, she thinks. It makes her reach over, taking his hand into hers, offering him a smile when he looks up at her.

“Now look at you,” Yoonah beams, causing him to smile lightly, looking over her soft features. “You’re sitting in a meadow with a pretty girl, talking about your life,” Juwon laughs softly at her words, head dropping as he squeezes her hand, nodding.

“‘Making great progress,” Juwon jokes, plucking one of those little white weed flowers, and putting it out to her. Yoonah smiles at the flower and then at Juwon, taking it in and putting it behind her ear still smiling.

She feels good.

SESSION 006

“You haven’t made any moves on me.”

Juwon looks up from his book and out into the endless dancing sea of grass they sat in before looking down at Yoonah, who lay in his lap.

“Do you want me to make moves on you?” The man asks, moving his hands out and to the sides so nothing is obstructing his view of her. Yoonah looks up at him with those soft round eyes she whips out every once in a while to keep men on their toes. It does the trick every time, making Juwon smile down at her softly.

Yoonah shrugs.

“Yeah.”

Juwon chuckles at the simplicity of her answer, folding the corner of the page before shutting his book and setting it down next to him, tapping her shoulders. She pushes herself up to where she’s sitting in a similar criss-crossed position as him, turning herself around to face the boy with the soft brown eyes.

Now Juwon is the one with the soft gaze, staring at Yoonah like she’s some goddess sent from above. It makes her smile brighter, putting her hands out in the space between them for him to take. It takes him a second but he slowly reaches out, slotting his fingers between hers’.

“Feels like forever since I’ve held a girl’s hand,” Juwon tells her which makes her giggle softly, looking at their hands then back at his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we used to be…really busy so I just,” His thumb runs over the back of her hand, smiling fondly as he squeezes her smaller hands, “Never had the time.”

“Oh my god,” Yoonah leans forward, causing Juwon to raise his brows curiously, “Are you a virgin?” She whispers, half joking half serious. It makes Juwon’s jaw drop, scoffing then laughing at her, looking minorly offended.

“No! Oh my god––Yoonah, I went to college, you know?” His eyes are wide and he’s talking passionately, smile clear as she giggles at nearly every word he says. “I’ve had sex. God, I’m twenty-six. That’d be embarrassing.”

“You’re twenty-six?” Yoonah asks in shock. She thought he was her age. He isn’t far off but still, he looks young for his age. Juwon nods, humming.

“Almost twenty-seven,” He adds, looking her over before nodding, squeezing their hands again. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” Yoonah answers simply, tilting her head at him before her eyes drop to their hands as she pulls them to her chest, over her heartbeat. Juwon watches her move their hands with a small smile before his eyes go back to her face. “I turn twenty-four in July though.”

Juwon nods, humming.

“We’ll have to celebrate.”

“Yeah?” Yoonah quips, making Juwon chuckle softly, nodding.

“I’ll take you out. Get you a balloon.”

“Just one?”

Juwon laughs again, deciding to be a bit bold and pulling her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. Yoonah smiles at the sweet action, her heart beating a bit faster when he holds their hands to his chest now. She can feel his heart beating. It’s beating fast but the rhythm is relaxing.

“I’ll get you twenty-four of them,” Juwon says, making Yoonah bat her lashes at him. He’s so sweet, so pure, Yoonah can’t stop herself from thinking she’s in love with him.

Maybe she is. She isn’t sure yet.

THE OFFICE.

Jinhwa clears his throat as Yoonah sits across his desk, looking down at her phone in her lap. She looks up a few seconds later, smiling at him before raising her brows at him. Jinhwa looks her over, a soft smile on his face before he looks down with a sigh.

“You haven’t gone to the last three of your sessions.”

Doah is such a bitch, Yoonah thinks but her face doesn’t falter, she just keeps smiling at him. She looks like he hand-picked the stars and put them in the sky himself. It works on every man she’s involved herself with.

“I don’t–”

“I’m not stupid, Yoonah. I know you’re leaving with that boy,” He taps the side of his head, “the disturbed one.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Yoonah snaps. There’s a defensiveness she carries for Juwon. He isn’t disturbed. He’s just depressed. She wonders if it’s their age difference or if Jinhwa thinks he’s a psycho. Jinhwa’s from a different time, she gets it, but she doesn’t care. The man sighs, putting up his hands in faux surrender.

“Whatever. Either way, he’s interfering with your treatment–”

“He’s not. I make him leave with me.”

A silence. Jinhwa sighs.

“I’m switching your appointments from five to three,” Jinhwa dismisses simply. Yoonah doesn’t argue, just sighs through her nose. There’s no use in arguing, just grin and bear it, Yoonah thinks, scratching the side of her wrists.

“And I’m…” Hesitation is never good, it makes Yoonah tense and look up from her hands.

“I’m putting you on a dating ban. Effective immediately. You’re getting too reckless with the men you pick up.” Jinhwa says as he slides over a piece of paper, dropping a pen in front of her as well. Yoonah looks over the paper with wide, almost frantic eyes, then back at him, her scratching getting harder.

“What?” Yoonah whispers, “What is this?”

Jinhwa sighs again.

“It’s a legal document that says you acknowledge–”

“A contact. You want me to sign a contract?”

Jinhwa clears his throat at being interrupted, it's clear he’s getting agitated but keeps his composure. He knows Yoonah all too well at this point. Her reaction was to be expected.

“–that says you acknowledge you are under a dating ban until you complete your treatments and if you break this agreement,” he points to a block of text that Yoonah doesn’t look at, her hard gaze staying on him and him only, “you and your group will suffer the consequences.”

Yoonah swallows, shaking her head––A soft gasp leaves her lips when she feels a prick on her wrist. Her eyes look down to see a small portion of skin scratched raw, skin pink and shiny. It makes her stomach twist, putting her hand under her thigh with a sigh. She finally shakes her head.

“I don’t want to sign it.” Yoonah says sternly. Jinhwa grunts, he sees that coming. He reaches down, pulling a thick pile of papers out and dropping them in front of her. He flips through them until he’s on at least page twenty, pointing to a highlighted block of text.

“This? Right here?” He’s speaking to her like she’s dumb, voice condescending yet kind. She hates it, the look of content on her face only growing. “Says if you don’t sign anything I want you to sign, you’re in breach of your contract. I’ve been really leanate with you, Yoonah. Because I love you,” His hand is on her cheek now, making her bottom lip tremble slightly, gaze still hard and angry, “And I want what’s best for you. Anyone with a brain would’ve dropped you by now but I haven’t and I won’t. You owe me this one small thing, don’t you think?”

Yoonah turned her head away, sniffling before looking down at the papers that sat on his desk, shaking her head.

“It’s not fair, Jinhwa.” She says quietly, keeping her gaze down. Jinhwa coos at her, petting her black hair softly before taking her cheek back into his hand, stroking her full cheek softly.

“Nothing is, Yoonah.”

He leans back in his chair, taking her original contract off the table and back in his drawer before nodding towards the contact and pen in front of her.

“Just finish your therapy and you go back to seeing your mentally ill boyfriends,” Jinhwa dismisses, waving his hand as Yoonah takes the pen in her hand, sighing. She reads over the contract slowly, really reading over the conditions. She points to the fourth paragraph of text, lips twitching.

“Does this say I can still have relationships just with people inside the company?” Yoonah asks, looking up at Jinhwa. He’s smiling, nodding, hands crossed in his lap.

“Yes. Yeah, it does. It only makes sense.”

“Makes sense?”

“Yeah,” Jinhwa shrugs, “No one knows what happens inside the neighborhood or company building. It’s just easier if you keep your relationships within the company.”

Yoonah stares at him. The gears are turning, making her brows pinch and her head tilt slightly.

“Is…Did you just put that there so we can keep seeing each other?”

Jinhwa shrugs. His intentions are clear in Yoonah’s eyes, leaving an uneasy seed in her stomach. She hates the idea that Jinhwa feels the need to take such measures to control her. She hates that he can take such measures and she just has to go along with it.

She promised her group wouldn’t suffer for her mistakes ever again. She isn’t going to hurt their careers over something so small and trivial. She loves and cares for her girls too much to let that happen––She loves her team too much.

With a deep breath, she puts the pen on the dotted line and lets it glide across the paper in the shape of her name.

#╰ * VENUS : scenarios ⧽ burn it to the ground .#ficnetfairy #fictional idol group #fictional idol community #kpop fanfic #idol oc #kpop oc #fake kpop oc #kpop au #idol au #kpop addition #idolverse #oc girl group #bts addition #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop idol #oc kpop group #stray kids addition

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Text

Woodsmoke (Joel Miller x F! Reader x Joe 'Bear' Graves)

Chapter One: Kindling

Read (Here) on AO3

Masterlist

Rating: Mature (Rating will change) Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault (Non-explicit) Tags: Character Study, Angst (Literally so much angst), AU- Canon divergence, Sheep Farmer Joel Miller, Patrolman Joe 'Bear' Graves, Domesticity, PTSD, Night Terror, Love confessions, Rejection, Mutual Pining A/N: So this started off as me wanting to write PWP with Joel and Bear, and then it became smut with context, and now we're here at a three part chracter study that also includes porn, thank you for witnessing my descent into madness. Also a huge shoutout to @soapskneebrace @guyfieriii and @writeforfandoms for listening to my absolutely unhinged raving and ranting about this series. I don't know how I could have done this without you all

Summary:

When spring comes, it melts away the frost, blooms lilac and pink in the hills, and in your heart as well. Like the slow, steady drip of thawing glacier, the interior of your soul at last becomes revealed to you once more. Vivid and bright like forsythia, like jonquils and the first flowers of spring, it unfurls its delicate petals, turns towards the sun.

It's Joel, your heart reveals to you with a tender whisper. Joel, with his steadying and unflinching gaze, his brown eyes the same color of your coffee, his hands that speak of experience, of raw ability. It's Joel, who knocks on your door as you get ready for bed and murmurs a quiet goodnight, his eyes always resting on yours with words he doesn't speak. Joel, with his deep voice like raw timber, his presence a towering, gnarled oak tree that refuses to be felled.

You think you love him.

You don't think you can have him.

How it starts, you don't know. How it begins, however is with you.

With you, with the first time you see the sheep ranch nestled at the very edge of Jackson’s territory, at a distance. Atop the hill that descends into the valley below, your eyes trace across the grey and white bits of fluff that dot the hilly pasture. The cold autumn wind rakes through your hair, bites against your cheeks, freezes against your chapped lips. The reins in your hand feel like steel, tough, clutched tightly in your nervous, anxious grip.

Beside you, Tommy eyes you as you take in the sight before you. A few pastures. A barn, a chicken house, a garden, and atop the other side of the valley- a house. Quaint, quiet, a watchtower of the farm below.

Tommy breathes through his nose, his mare shifting with a little chuff that seems to match her rider's contemplation. He's been quiet for most of the journey, offering only small conversation in response to your quiet inquiries about your destination.

"He's a loner." Tommy tells you, and his eyes are soft, a little broken when he speaks of his brother, the man who would be your employer. There's bitterness there that you recognize, even if you don't really understand.

"He's not...mean." He goes on, even though he hesitates over his elaboration. "He just prefers the quiet is all."

You nod, voice silent. It took months for you to learn how to speak again, and even now the simple act feels too heavy, too awkward.

It had been the better part of a year since you'd arrived at Jackson

It had been Tommy who had found you, out on patrol with the other riders, stumbling upon your form half-buried by snow, curled into the ground. Starving, confused, injured, scared, waiting to die so the earth would swallow you whole. Yet instead of letting you succumb to frost, Tommy had taken you back, allowed the doctors in Jackson to nurse you back to health.

In body, at least. Maybe not in soul.

Tommy leads the way down the steep slope ahead of you, leaning back in his saddle as his mare picks along the barest hint of a path down towards the ranch. You follow him, feeling your breath fog across your face, a warm puff before it dissipates into steam. All the while you steal glances away from the trail ahead of you and towards the livestock dotting the hillside, the grass turning an ashen green as the season inexorably change once more.

Tommy leads you not to the house atop the hill, but rather to a cabin at the bottom of the valley. It's braced against the edge of a tree line that trickles into the dip between the hills, and if you listen above the wind you think you hear a brook there. Yet your attention is drawn to the cabin itself, with its wood walls and stone chimney, from which woodsmoke pours forth. You can smell it, the scent obscured by the raw, frigid taste of oncoming frost. It lingers across your tongue even as Tommy dismounts, ascends the steps, fist raised to knock on the door.

It opens before he gets the chance.

The man that answers the door looks older, worn. Greys dot his temples, his short beard. There's lines across his face that speak less of age and more of grief, a time spent witnessing horrors you yourself have not yet seen. Yet his eyes glint with a keen awareness, a clarity bred by experience. Wary. Ready.

He stands occupying the broad space of the doorway, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, grease caught across his knuckles. There's a furrow in his brow, as if he's annoyed by the interruption to whatever project he has occupied himself with. Yet when his eyes take in Tommy his face relaxes into something vaguely resembling a smile, and he manages to smear the majority of grease away from his palm before clasping it to his brother's.

"Tommy." Is all he says in greeting, but there's a warmth there, a familiarity that briefly has your heart threaten to crack, wishing selfishly someone would regard you that way too.

"Joel." Tommy replies, his tone light, pleased before he turns to reveal you, standing a ways away with the horses. "Brought you a visitor. Meet your new farmhand."

You shift a little where you stand, not making any motion to venture closer, instead offering a timid 'Hello' that seems to be swallowed by the wind.

Joel regards you silently, continuing to wipe his hands on his rag, eyes taking you in silently, cataloguing the uneasiness in your stance, your darting eyes, tense shoulders. yet he doesn't remark on it, doesn't offer so much as a greeting, instead seeming to mull your very presence over in his mind. Contemplating, considering.

"It's cold." Is all he says after moments that seem like hours. "Fire's warm."

With that he turns inside in a silent gesture for you to follow, offering little else in the strangest introduction you've yet to encounter. Absent of expectations or forced niceties, his words saying all that need to be said, and yet somehow containing multitudes.

It is, you come to learn, very much like him.

----

Joel puts you to work immediately, and you quickly learn just how desperately he needed another pair of hands on the ranch.

Your chores begins before dawn most days, the cold of the misty mornings clinging to your skin as you warm yourself by the stove as it crackles to life under Joel's care. You dress by the scant sunlight that seeps over the hilly horizon, step outside into the dewy air and watch your breath fog up and away into the dove grey sky.

The day starts with collecting eggs from the hen house, feeding the chickens, ensuring no creatures have made it past the wire fencing that protects them from predators lurking in the woods. Breakfast is simple fare, quick, not meant to be lingered upon before the work of the day begins in earnest.

There's few words spoken between you and Joel as the sun rises. You understand quickly he's not typically one for conversation unless prompted. He doesn't mince words, prefers to say what needs to be said and then to follow through with whatever he's spoken. It's a gruff, curt personality that might grind with a more extroverted, conversational person. For you, with your quiet, contemplative demeanor, it suits you well. You, like Joel, prefer to speak through actions rather than words, let your hands occupy your thoughts and chase away the memories that linger there.

So you do just that, involving yourself in the momentum that carries the weight away. You toss down hay from the hayloft, herd the sheep out of the barn in the morning, mend the fences, pull weeds from the garden. You sweep the kitchen as Joel cleans the dinner dishes, you chop firewood for the crackling hearth, gather kindling at the edge of the forest but never venture beyond the tree line as Joel tells you.

Joel gives you space for the first few weeks. Yet he isn't without attention. You find that he's quick to notice when you need something, even if you're hesitant to ask for it. It's as if he sees you in a way you aren't familiar with, discerning your hesitation and inward reflection like an extension of himself. His responses come less in the form of words and more in the form of offerings. An extra blanket for your bed. Another pair of socks. Fixing the shades in your bedroom so the light doesn't seep in, refilling the kerosene in your bedside lamp. It's simple but meaningful gestures, absent of words that somehow fills the unfamiliar space between you two.

"It's okay." They seem to whisper to you, as you lay wide-eyed, awake in your bed at night. "You can stay. I don't mind. You can ask. Take your time."

You never speak to Joel of the circumstances that have led you here, not even when you slowly begin to find your voice again, when words between you two become easier, less forced. Yet Joel somehow seems to know what's happened to you anyways, and you can't help but wonder if he was able to see it from the very start.

There's glimpses you see in him, his eyes becoming distant at times, as if staring into the past. It's as if he's lived your life before you, can see the scenes of his own regret play out in shadowy phantoms across his vision. You feel it in yourself, in the way memories cling to you as night like parasitic fungi, creeping with slow, sinister growth along your veins, old wounds that have yet to heal.

If Joel hears you whimper and cry in your sleep, he doesn't say. Yet in the mornings, after the nightmares have ended but still occupy your shadow, he's gentler. Softer. Extra milk in your coffee, his voice less gruff, allowing you extra time before the mornings begin so you can shed the last of your sorrows.

Slowly, with time, they're chased away by daylight.

You bury the remnants of them with motion, purpose. Joel made it clear from the start you weren't there to freeload.

"Two rules." He told you the first night you were alone, the washed dinner plates stacked to dry, the hearth crackling warmly and filling the silence.

"The first." He begins, and you can hear the age in his voice. Gritty, choked on memories like charcoal. "Is that you do what I say, when I say it, understand?"

His eyes meet yours, and you stare into them, losing yourself for a moment in his brown, keen-eyed stare. You wonder if there was a softness there once, find yourself trying to imagine what it must have looked like.

"This is to keep us safe." He explains, hands clasped together on the aged, wooden table, fingers grazing over worn knuckles. "Just because Jackson runs patrols doesn't mean it's entirely safe out here. I'm your employer, you're my responsibility now, so you listen to me when I tell you to do something, clear?"

You nod in silence, eyes shifting away from him to your mug of weak tea that's long since cooled.

"Clear." You reply, voice soft, a little distant.

Joel nods out of the corner of your eyes, as if to himself. Then his voice raises again.

"The second." He continues, voice maintaining that gruff, even tone. There's a hint of an accent there you try to place but come up empty-handed. Yet it softens, is joined by an indiscernible sigh, a shift of his shoulders that eases into the cracks of your soul. "Is that if you ever need something, all you need to do is ask."

You look at him then, eyes blinking, lips parting, trying to place the strange, sudden wash of feeling that murmurs between your ribs. Joel's stare remains unchanged, but the gentleness of his statement lingers, suspended between you both. An entreaty, an offering.

Slowly, something within you rouses, long laying dormant within the recesses of your grief. A gentle glimpse of color before it's gone again.

"Clear." You tell him, and this time your voice softens too, for the first time allowing yourself to open, unfold within his unwavering, focused gaze.

----

It's quiet, that first year. Joel is closed off, distant in a way that's not entirely unfamiliar to you. You can see the scars on him, even the ones he refuses the bare. It's hard not to see, with the way that his history is written across his eyes.

You don't ask why he can hardly hear from one ear, why he only ever sleeps on his right side. You don't ask about how he knows about how to pour the foundation for a new shed meant to store food for the winter. You don't ask about how he survived this long, why he wants the quiet solitude of the Wyoming steppes compared to the bustle of Jackson.

You don't ask the question everyone seems to ask people like the two of you.

What happened to you? What made you like this?

In turn, Joel doesn't ask you of your own past, of the mistakes and fatal flaws that led to that moment of solemn, fateful near death, your would-be grave a shimmering, white tomb of frost. Nor do you offer them. There's no changing the past now, and even though the screams of the damned still torment you in the witching hours of night, they're just that- ghosts.

They can't hurt you anymore.

Though you don't speak of your past, you do speak. Slowly at first, then with more ease. Joel seems surprised at first, even though the change is gradual. More than once you see him pause what he's doing, turn to you, blinking as he processes your remark about chores, the weather, what to eat for dinner. Utilitarian conversation that seems to mirror his own words.

He, like you, doesn't speak much, doesn't feel pressed to fill the silence. He's more than happy to simply coexist, his hands working alongside yours, his voice directing you with his steadying, unwavering presence. Like a lantern in the mist, the glow of him feels hazy, distant, and yet somehow still there, a signal as you wander in search of yourself.

You watch him, sometimes, over the edges of the worn paperbacks you read in the evening as the fire glows low. The orange flames catch across his face, reveal there the shadows of the things he doesn't say. He stares into the flames like they yield answers he doesn't have. There's a striking gravity there in his gaze, one that pulls you inwards, down into him, causes color to flutter in your heart. Sorrowful, unsummoned, and yet somehow alive.

You gather him in bits and pieces, like sifting for gold along a streambank. The sediment washes away, and what's left there is glimmering dust that catches and glints in the sunlight.

He has a daughter, that you already knew. Ellie is her name. You think you met her once back in Jackson on a misty grey morning where you paced the perimeter in solitude, basking in the absence of others. She'd muttered a brief greeting to you as she blew warmth into her hands, sidling past you towards the direction of the school. Bright eyed, brown haired, dimpled. She looks nothing like him.

Then again, you suppose you're all orphans of the apocalypse.

You meet her once more several weeks into your new residency, ferried there by Tommy. She peeks over his shoulder from where she sits behind him in the saddle, her face faltering when she sees you helping Joel mend the fence of the western pasture.

It's the first time you see Joel nervous, his hands fidgeting, seeking purchase on something that isn't there. You don't understand, eyes darting from him to the girl he's fostered, taught to survive in a cruel world. Yet then he clears his throat, introduces you to her with slow, halting words and you think you see it, the way he seems to look for Ellie's approval.

Ellie regards you warily at first, and like Joel her eyes seem to see more than she lets on, glinting at you as she takes several, heavy moments to judge you by your presence alone.

"Hi." She says at last, and her smile is soft, yet still somehow sincere. "I'm Ellie."

You almost miss Joel's sigh beside you, breathed into the coming winter wind.

His relief is well-placed. Ellie seems to take a shine to you. You happily listen to her ramble about her schooling in Jackson, about her distaste for her teachers, to her pleads for Joel to just homeschool her because "who needs school anyways?" You let her tell you terrible puns from a journal where she's scrawled the jokes with slanted, rushed handwriting. You follow her as she insists you accompany her to survey the ewes, climbing in the hayloft and attempting to hang from the rafters.

You don't notice the way Joel's eyes soften as you smile.

It's only on the third day of Ellie's visit, the morning of her departure, where she turns to you as Tommy and Joel talk next to the horses. Her arms wrap around your middle, head pressed to your chest, the embrace lasting for all of a moment before she pulls away again.

"Thank you." She tells you, eyes gazing up at you, clear and unwavering in a way you've come to recognize. "For taking care of him."

You freeze, eyes wide, lips parted, trying to process what she's just said. Yet you don't get the chance, because suddenly she's striding towards Tommy with a holler of "Let's get this show on the road!" and you're left alone, caught within the imbalance of her words.

No, you think. It was the other way around. You, you were the one who was taken care of, so you could be saved from yourself.

By him.

Things become different after that. It's as if Ellie's presence, her fondness of you has lifted an unknown weight from Joel's shoulders. Where before you could see cracks in him, now you can see the sunlight that dares to seep through, past the heartache and the grief he carries within.

Slowly, you too begin to change.

You're not sure what does it, whether it was Ellie, Joel, or the thaw of spring that relents the boundaries of your heart, unfolds them like snowdrops, born anew.

It's your voice that fills the silence now. Soft, soothing, still somehow endearingly shy yet undeniably kind. You turn your face to the wind, listen to the sound, try and discern the whispers it speaks to you. As the mountains turn green and lush, so too does your smile, a gentle thing that catches the sunlight and imbues it into your soul.

Joel smiles more too. You're not sure why, but you see it sometimes. When you appear from the hayloft with straw caught in your hair, when you hum a forgotten tune over the sink as you do dishes, when he sees you bolt after the lamb that escapes through the fencing, he smiles.

It always catches you a bit off guard, the way his mouth puckers, tugs the corner of his lips. Yet there's something in his stare that feels strangely like familiarity, of warmth, and you find yourself longing after it. You wish somehow you could trace that too into your soul, allow it to fill the cracks there like a balm, erase all the old wounds that linger with a bitter, sour aftertaste.

Joel remains at a distance from you, even though he seems more relaxed now. There's things he doesn't say, things he refuses to let you see. His words, though perhaps provided more often, remain enigmatic. Short, clipped, you come to realize he says what he means, but means far more than he can say.

Yet there's times when Joel is closer somehow, outstretching a hand to keep you from stumbling over a pit in the pasture, helping you down from the hayloft when the ladder breaks, crouching with you over a newborn lamb as it takes its first breath. There's something different in him in those moments. His eyes shine a little brighter, the draw of his face changes, his voice gets firm in a way that's less of a reprimand and more of concern. You can tell, the way he looks out for you without words.

Things get easier after that first year. Joel lets you gently shoo him from the kitchen when you've had enough of his poorly seasoned cooking to last a lifetime. He lets you wander further from the farm when you have the time, venturing into the woods to check the snares he's set. He comes with you when you hike to the top of the valley in search of wild spring onions, makes no complaint about his tender muscles. He tends to you when you come down with pneumonia, and in your listless, sickened state you think you hear him murmur the words "It's going to be okay."

Slowly, you unravel him. He smiles more often, albeit rarely. You get him to groan at terrible jokes and convince him to trade for art supplies and books for you. He listens to you when you suggest sheepdogs, and then forgives you when the mutt runs off into the woods within the first week to never return.

In the evenings, he sits closer, makes you a mug of tea without asking. He pushes the mug into your hands with little fanfare, and you learn it's through gestures that he says what he means the most.

"I want you here." The steam of the mug whispers to you silently. "Things are...easier with you here."

Yet there's unspoken words that remains between you despite that. You see it in the way he averts his eyes too quickly when you dry off from the bath, the way he watches you when you smile into the summer sunlight. You see it when you strip your jacket during the blazing heat of summer and he coughs suddenly, feigns breathlessness. You see it in his smile when you hold a tiny, baby chick in your hands, eyes glimmering with something akin to hope.

You see it when he warns you to get inside as a courier lets his eyes roam over you in a way that makes your skin crawl.

It's a messenger from another outlying settlement, one you've never seen before. Young, brawny, his smile a little too wide as he greets you from atop his horse, dismounts before you can stammer a greeting and extends his hand to you.

You freeze. There's something about his eyes, the way they don't meet your own, the way they seem to fixate on other parts of you. It summons a vile reminder of things that once were, and you feel your breath catch between your ribs, too shallow, too cold-

"Get inside." Joel tells you, and his calloused hand tightens on your shoulder just a fraction, not enough for anyone but the both of you to notice. The deep, gruff rumble of his voice in your ear conveys all the meaning you mean to hear. Familiar, it whispers to you: Danger. Threat. Listen to me. I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe. Don't ignore me.

"Now." Joel growls, and he pulls away enough to give you a look that lasts a millisecond, too short to go noticed by the courier.

You nod at him, but the prickle of peril still skims across your flesh, nipping in a shallow bite. Tasting, teasing, a parting augury that leaves you shivering as you turn in the direction of the cabin.

The courier's eyes never leave you, not even as his conversation with Joel continues, his voice a lazy drawl compared to Joel's clipped, brusque replies. Your skin crawls, and you feel his stare rake over you with a slimy, lasting touch. Putrid, unwanted, vile. Your hands shake.

You cast a glance behind you once you reach the porch steps, and blink when you find Joel crowding closer to the younger man, fists curled at his side. There's a look that passes over the courier's face then, brow knotted and lips turning into a displeased sneer.

For a moment you turn, ready to go back and intervene in the building confrontation. Yet then you see Joel's shoulders rise as he speaks and the courier's face drops, goes ashen and slack at whatever it is Joel has just said to him. The threat, though you can't hear it, hangs heavy suspended between them. You can see it, the way the younger man looks at Joel with a brief, vulnerable expression of fear.

He swallows, shuffles for a moment before tipping his hat at you in a brief but abashed farewell. Then he's getting on his horse, trembling hands grabbing the reins and turning back towards the hill from whence he came.

"What did you say to him?" You ask Joel when he eventually paces over towards the porch, his shoulders still taut, frown creased across his face. He peels off his work gloves, stuffs them hastily in his back pocket as he brushes past you. You think he won't give you an answer, leave you wondering as to what words he spoke to the man who dared to look at you the way he did.

Joel pauses with his hand on the door handle, still facing away from you. He stays there for a moment, and you watch as the rage eases from his shoulders.

"I told him." He says, voice low, reeking of an imminent tempest, a fury he keeps simmered down low, deep inside himself, ready to boil at a moment's notice.

"I told him if he ever looked at you again I'd pop his goddamn kneecap off."

The door stays ajar behind him, and you're left alone, the autumn wind breathing cold across your nape.

Yet warmth blooms within you, a familiar yet distorted dissension to the icy threat of Joel's words. Rather than settle in your bones with a lurid freeze, Joel's warning instead summons an affection like the proximity of a hearth, ensconced within the promise of his protection.

"I've got you." The heat in your chest murmurs in conjunction with his voice. "I'll keep you safe. Don't think I won't."

You follow him, tracing his back with your gaze, and thinking somehow that you might follow him anywhere if he asked you.

---

The months drag on. Winter is harsh that year, the snow falling gracefully yet accumulating with sinister depth. The fire never stops, and it's on more than one night that you and Joel both abandon your bedrooms and sleep in the main room, closer to the woodstove so the freeze doesn't come for you in sleep. It's on those nights that you awake with an extra blanket draped over you, that Joel walks a little stiffly the next morning, grumbles about the cold irritating his joints.

The blanket smells like him.

It's on one of those nights, where the wind howls and sleet batters at the windows that you shiver under your covers, and the nightmares come creeping past your defenses. Like frost, they grow across the planes of your thoughts, extending, fissuring out and reminding you of that time, of an unearthly, blank, white grave. You sink into it, watch through snowflake covered lashes as the world shimmers with pristine, powdery glimmer, even as your heartbeat slows, your vision fades.

It's on one of those nights that there's hands that seize you in your sleep and you struggle against them with a whimper of "No, please, not again-"

"Hey."

It's Joel's voice that breaks through the ice, hauls you from the depths of exposure and into wakefulness once more.

"It's me." He says when you feebly push at him, mind still trying to discern its own direction, tears burning the corner of your eyes. "It's me. I've got you."

Your vision, wavering and watery, meets his gaze. Brown eyed, brow knotted, hands on either side of your face as he wills you to see, to hear him. You can only cling to him, eyes wide, unseeing, mind a cacophony of screams and sickening, bloody impacts until there's only a cavern of blank, snowy silence that rings between your ears.

"It's over." Joel tells you, voice deep, a grinding whisper tinted with an emotion you can't place. His eyes have a look you haven't seen before, and it takes you a moment to place it.

Fear.

"You're here." He murmurs, keeping your eyes facing forward, into his own. "Safe."

The dying embers of the woodstove flicker across your glassy eyes, and the vision fades, resumes into the now with Joel's thumb stroking across your cold, wet cheek. You shiver into his grip as the nightmares fades, a ghost of a past that's long since transpired, but leaves scars echoing endlessly within the prison of your mind.

Neither of you fall asleep again that night, words unspoken into the silence but presences merging, blending together in the darkness until daylight at last breaks over the horizon.

If Joel is different at that night, you can't tell. He keeps his short, gruff way about you, offers what he needs to, busies his hands with the work to be done. He doesn't remark upon the truth he saw in your eyes and words that night, simply absorbs that truth into himself and keeps moving in the way all survivors do. You find yourself wishing you could do the same, could burrow the hurt down deep so it sleeps, hibernates there until spring, whenever that may come.

Yet when a rake falls loudly in the barn, when a gunshot rings out in the woods from a neighboring hunter, when you hear a coyote scream at night, he's there. Wordlessly, his eyes slide over to your tensed, ashen expression and his voice becomes soft, a reassurance of security, of protection.

"It's just the wind." He tells you when a gale lashes at the windows, clatters against the panes. His hands don't cease as they prod the fire, but his eyes turn to you- looking, waiting, expectant. It's only when you nod that he returns his focus elsewhere, ensures the unease in your bones has settled.

It's in that way that you know. Regardless of whether Joel speaks it or not, somewhere along the way he's decided you're one of his own. Someone to reassure, to protect, to keep safe, even from the doubts of the past.

This is where you're meant to stay, you realize. Here, with him.

It's a realization that feels like relief, hopeful like the lambs that bounce through the meadows and the hatchlings that nest in the eaves of the porch. It feels like a rebirth, like a renewal of yourself as you at last realize the true extent of your feelings.

You think you love him.

You think, in another life, you could have been his.

You aren't so bold as to offer him advances, the emotions in your chest too fragile, too fleeting. Yet you do ease around him in a way you haven't before. Sitting next to him on the couch, daring to cover his hand with yours as he reaches for something in the cabinet, stepping closer to point out a hole he missed in the chicken wiring, your breath ghosting over his nape.

He doesn't miss these gestures, you know he doesn't. Joel is too aware to not see them, has too many years struggling to survive in a cruel world to not notice this gentle easiness of yours. Yet he never makes mention of it, never takes the chance to step closer, to narrow the strange distance between you. You don't understand it, can't comprehend why he insists on not venturing nearer to you. It remains one of the things you'll never know about him, why he looks at you with such tenderness and yet refuses to let you come closer.

"I'm too old for this." He groans as you both lay panting in the pasture after wrangling the flock's ram back into the field after his daring escape. "I need to retire."

You huff, something akin to a laugh, staring up at the summer cumulus clouds that roll white and puffy across and egg-shell blue sky.

"I'll stay here, even if you do." You tell him honestly, smiling, feeling for once like you can see into the future ahead of you. You turn to look at him, hair mussed, eyes bright but warm. "I don't want to be anywhere else."

He looks at you then, and the color in your heart wilts to sepia at the emotion that flickers across his face.

Guilt.

It stabs at you, like a blade in the dark, the razor-sharp edge glinting from a campfire. Your face falls, your stomach drops, and distantly, you think you can hear the sound of your heart cracking at the edges.

He doesn't want you.

There's a deep, lurking, sinister shadow that wonders if anyone ever will.

You try not to dwell on it, even as it slowly consumes you as the days drag on. Doubt festers in your veins, like spores sticking to the edges of your skin, your distant, unfocused eyes.

You lay awake at night, days later, deciding to step outside into the summer air to breath, release your demons into the night sky.

It's only then that you see the orange glow on the horizon, wake Joel with your rising, panic shouts.

Joel stumbles out of his room, eyes quickly clearing of drowsiness as he too looks towards the sight before you.

"Get dressed." He tells you, sleep still clogging his voice. "It's the Johnsons. Something's caught fire."

You follow his command wordlessly, and it's within ten minutes that the two of you are riding over the lip of the valley, speeding in direction of the next farm over.

You arrive too late.

The barn is a single flame against the night sky as you arrive, and the farm's two owners hold each other not far away. Contents of their house are strewn about them. The smell of smoke and blood thickens at the back of your throat.

"Raiders." The wife tells you, voice less of a wail and more of a shattered, trembling whisper. It's all that needs to be said.

You and Joel see to them, spend the day helping them gather the remainders of the farm. You don't arrive back at the cabin until sundown, skin chalky with ash, hands chaffed, form slumped with fatigue. Yet it's not even two steps into the door before Joel turns to you, eyes severe, steely, holding back a fury spawned by fear.

"I'm leaving." Is all he says. "In the morning. Gotta tell Tommy about what's happened."

You feel a low murmur of terror gurgle in your stomach at the idea of being left alone when danger lurks beyond the edges of the valley, at the idea of him going by himself.

"Let me come with you." You try, but he shakes his head.

"No." Is all he gives you. "I need you to stay here. Guard the farm. I'll lock everything up before I go."

Then his eyes soften, and he breathes a sigh as he looks at you, sees the anxiety rising in your gaze.

"I won't be long." He murmurs then, voice dipping. "Just keep that shotgun safe, like I showed you. I'll be back soon."

You know you can't argue with him, stubborn as he is. Besides, he's right. Someone needs to stay. Someone needs to make the journey. One of you has to go. You both know it's him.

So, you watch him, the next morning, watching from the porch as he ascends the edge of the valley, tracing his back until he's nothing more than a speck that vanishes over the rise.

True to his word, Joel arrives back the next afternoon, and on his tail is an entire company of riders. Spooked as you are, you at first think they're raiders, forcing him to lead them back to the farm. You stand on the porch with a shotgun, hands trembling until Joel at last dismounts, approaches you like he would a wild, scared animal.

"It's alright." He murmurs, and makes you lower the weapon as the rest of the group stands at a safe distance. His hands are cold, yet familiar as they touch you, ground you from your own rapid heartbeat.

"Security." He tells you simply as you eye the group warily. They regard you respectfully, eyes shifting from you to Joel and then back again, tall atop their horses, murmuring to each other in low voices.

There's around five of them, hard in the eyes, fit, strong. They're all younger than Joel by a number of years. Their weapons lay across their laps or on their saddles. You can tell at a single glance that they're soldiers by training. You know the look. You've seen the same expression in the eyes of FEDRA soldiers. Focused, disciplined, rife with a cold, calculating instinct.

Your eyes flick from them to Joel, and at last you relax, shoulders dropping all of an inch, letting him take the shotgun from you.

It's only then that they begin to dismount, talking amongst themselves and offering you linger, skeptical glances, as if encountering traces of a predator in the woods. Yet there's one of the group that hands his reins to the man beside him, approaches you both with slow, measured steps.

He's the once you noticed first, with his towering stature and set jaw. A short beard and thick brows frame his face, shoulders tight with coiled strength. There's an air to him that seems more acute, more potent than the rest of his men. Somehow, it warns of danger.

He removes his hat as he nears the two of you, holds it over his heart in a humble greeting.

"Ma'am." He offers with a nod.

"This is Joe Graves." Joel tells you, one hand still cupping your elbow. Steadying, grounding.

"You can call me 'Bear'." He adds and gives you a smile that pierces through the remnants of frenetic, panicked anxiety. "They boys and I all have callsigns.

"Hello." You offer at last politely, voice a little quiet, guarded. Bear only nods at you, seems to take your hesitancy in stride, his smile not faltering. It's warm, understanding, and it's as if he senses the unsteadiness in you, waits patiently for you to right yourself.

Your chest flutters.

"The boys and I are going to take good care of your farm." He tells you, voice measured but easy. "If you ever need anything from us, don't hesitate to ask."

You blink at him, feel his words siphon away the fear, the uncertainty that dwells between your ribs.

"Thank you...Bear." You tell him, voice muted but betraying your gratitude, your slow unwinding tension at his tone with you. Entreating, patient, void of expectations.

There's something that glimmers in his eyes then, and you catch it for only a moment. A spark, a hope, an interest you can't yet decipher. It feels like it coats you in a smattering of glimmer dust, leaving behind a warm, hazy glow that catches in your stare.

You know that look.

"Don't worry." It says. "Take your time. There's no rush. I won't come closer unless you want me to. I'll stay right here until you're ready."

Like the bloom of springtime, color once again unfurls in your heart.

#TLOU #Joel miller #the last of us #joe bear graves #Joel miller x reader #Joe bear graves x reader #reader insert #fic: woodsmoke #AHHHHHH ITS FINISHED

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