#also i spent yesterday so tired i just. lay in bed and ate food. and slept a decent portion. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cyankeiya · 4 months

Text

Until the next morning

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru

Word(s): 4.5k+

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Tags: labor, waterbreaking, tmpreg, twin birth, unassisted birth, explicit birth, orgasmic birth

—

Satoru had been in labor since yesterday.

He was to be due for the birth of his and Suguru’s twin babies a couple days prior to him having contractions yesterday in the late afternoon. At the time, they were very far apart from each other, around 30 minutes, then late in the evening, they went down to 20 minutes apart. Satoru and Suguru spent the second half of the day waiting for the labor to progress, with Suguru helping his husband ride out the contractions in their home.

It was already morning the next day. Sleep did not come easy for neither Satoru nor Suguru last night. Satoru managed to fall asleep for a couple hours, but was mainly kept awake by the rough contractions. Suguru couldn’t really sleep much either due to Satoru’s loud groans of pain and also Suguru just being so anxious for his partner.

The couple lay in their shared bed, close and facing each other. Satoru closed his eyes, blowing out slow breaths and groaning softly as the contractions were coming in at 10 minutes apart while Suguru massaged his hand along his partner’s large, aching belly in wide, gentle circles. Satoru opened his eyes, and saw that Suguru’s dark eyes looked tired and heavy.

“Sorry to keep you up,” Satoru said.

“No, don’t apologize.” Suguru said, kissing Satoru’s temple and continuing to rub his belly. “What matters is you right now.”

“I’d love it if I got to push today.” Satoru nodded. He’d been in labor, let alone pregnant, for too long, he was so ready to birth the twins. As Suguru smoothed his hand over Satoru’s stomach, he felt a bit of the babies’ movement in his palm.

“Wanna try and eat a bit?” asked Suguru. “I’ll bring food up here while you rest.”

“Yeah, sure, thank you.” Satoru pushed himself up with his arms. He’d been so focused on the pain yesterday that he barely ate, but he knew that he needed to try and eat today while his labor was still progressing.

“I’ll be back soon,” Suguru rubbed Satoru’s arm and headed out of their bedroom to the kitchen.

Suguru came back with beverages in plastic cups and food on paper plates since they were going to be in their room for what could be the next few to several hours. For both of them, it was water, tea, some fruit, and toast.

“Don’t eat too fast,” Suguru reminded him as they ate, his hand on Satoru’s back. “Or you’ll get heartburn.”

“I know,” Satoru replied, taking slower, smaller bites.

Although Satoru was still having contractions, the couple finished breakfast without any major incident. They disposed of their trash and rested in their bed. The two sat up against the pillows along the headboard, with Satoru breathing through the cramping pains and Suguru close beside him, massaging his belly gently.

“Good, Satoru, breathe just like that.” Suguru’s voice was so soft and gentle. Despite the pain of labor, Satoru was quite at ease with Suguru being so comforting like this to him.

Satoru then had an intense contraction, exclaimed at the pain and hunched over, grabbing underneath his belly. Suguru immediately pressed his hand to his husband’s chest. Satoru blew out a huff of breath as the pain subsided.

“That was 6 minutes from the last contraction. I guess I’m gonna have the babies soon after all.” Satoru smiled. Suguru smiled back at him and kissed his lips.

Satoru sat at the edge of their bed and Suguru stood in front of him, their arms latched together. Satoru hung his head down against Suguru’s torso, breathing slowly through the contractions, which were currently 4 minutes apart. Satoru let out low groans of pain after each breath.

“Mmm…Suguru…” Satoru muttered.

“That’s good, Satoru, you’re doing so good.” Suguru said. He ran his fingers through Satoru’s soft white hair and kissed his head. “Wanna try walking around in the room for a bit? See if your water will break?”

“I’ll try.”

Suguru helped Satoru stand up, they walked around their room, Satoru holding onto a wall with Suguru holding his right side for support. Satoru started to limp a bit, and there was more pressure building up in his cervix.

“Getting pretty bad, huh?” Suguru asked.

“It’s been that way,” Satoru nodded, eyes shut. He leaned over a bit as he had another contraction, blowing out a huff of breath. Suguru held his hand under Satoru’s gravid belly, feeling a bit of movement from their babies against his palm.

“They started moving more when your hand was there.” Satoru laughed a bit through a labored breath. “They wanna meet their daddy.”

“I can’t wait to meet them either.” Suguru smiled. He and Satoru kissed on the lips. Their eyes met as they pulled away, and it drove them to a full makeout session as they stood along the wall of their bedroom.

Satoru suddenly felt a largely intense pressure immediately build up in his belly. He pulled away from kissing Suguru, yelling out and hunching over. Suguru saw as fluid gushed out from underneath Satoru’s shorts and onto the carpet between his legs.

His water broke.

Satoru was still hunched over, gasping through the pain of one of the babies’ heads pushing against his cervix. Suguru held his hand to his taller partner’s chest so he wouldn’t fall over.

“Breathe, Satoru,” Suguru reminded him gently. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Satoru spent this next moment in complete agony. His contractions were within a minute of each other, he let out more loud moans of pain. He sat on the toilet, pants off, struggling in his seat to try and find a position that was even slightly a bit more comfortable. Suguru stood in front of him, letting Satoru hang off of him as he endured those contractions.

“OHHHH MY GODDDD–“ Satoru exclaimed, his screaming becoming heavy pants as he came down from a strong contraction. Tears dripped from his eyes onto his lap. He buried his face into Suguru’s stomach as he sobbed, knowing things were only going to progress faster and become more intense. “SUGURU, MAKE IT STOP!!”

“I know, honey, I know. I wish there was more I could do.” Suguru said, rubbing his hand to Satoru’s back. He then kneeled in front of Satoru, pressing foreheads with him, smoothing his hands over Satoru’s heavy, aching belly in wide, gentle circles.

“Hrrrggghhh…fuck!!” Satoru grunted at another contraction. “Ahhhhh I can’t…!!”

“Yes you can, you got this,” Suguru spoke gently, hands still on the heavy swell of Satoru’s belly. “Breathe, Satoru, you’re so, so strong.”

More screaming and sobbing from Satoru as he sat on the toilet, Suguru in return praising and encouraging him as he labored.

“This is all your fault,” Satoru muttered.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” Suguru responded, kissing Satoru’s head through his fluffy white hair. “Wanna get into bed?”

“Mhm, yeah,” Satoru nodded. Suguru helped Satoru off the toilet, letting him hang onto him. On the way out the bathroom, Suguru grabbed the supply basket from the sink counter and some towels.

Suguru laid the towels along Satoru’s side of the mattress. Satoru climbed into bed, laying on his side and pressing a pillow to his heavy aching belly. He was exhausted, aching all over, and drenched in sweat. Suguru stood at Satoru’s side of the bed, wiping his partner’s sweaty forehead with the washcloth before holding out his hand for him to squeeze.

Suguru stroked Satoru’s fluffy white hair. “I’m gonna get the mirror, okay? I’ll be quick.” He rushed to the opposite corner of their bedroom to grab the full-length mirror so they could both see Satoru’s progress through the birth.

“Sugu, come back…” Satoru whined out from the bed.

“I’m here, I’m here now.” Suguru rushed back to Satoru’s side after leaning the mirror against the drawer next to their bed. He rubbed his hand to the side of Satoru’s belly and helped him sip some water. Satoru let out soft whimpers of pain as his contractions were coming in within much less than a minute of each other.

“Suguru…I need to pushhhhh…” Satoru panted in a desperate huff, reaching for Suguru’s forearm.

“Okay, I’ll check you first.” Suguru lifted his leg and checked his dilation, saw he was dilating but he wasn’t ready. “It looks like you’re only around 6 cm.”

Satoru groaned in frustration. Tears welled up beneath his sky blue eyes, glistening his snowy lashes.

“I know, you’re almost there,” Suguru rubbed Satoru’s belly soothingly. “Just a little longer, okay?”

Satoru clutched Suguru’s hand as he labored lying down, his panting becoming rapid while the agonizing pain became more unbearable. He muffled his screams and cursing into the pillow he was hugging. Suguru did his best to soothe him, rubbing his belly and whispering affectionate, encouraging words to him.

“That’s it Satoru, just breathe,” Suguru reminded him gently. “You’re at 8cm now, you’re almost there.”

Satoru slowed his breathing, taking slow deep breaths. He sort of calmed down for a bit to try and regain his focus. Satoru looked down at their clasped, joined hands, which wore their silver wedding bands on their ring fingers. He looked up at Suguru who’s soft, dark eyes looked so lovingly at him.

“Suguru…” Satoru let out a weak breath.

“It’s me, baby,” Suguru said. He kissed Satoru’s hand and brushed his messy snowy-white hair out of his face. “It’s me. I’m right here.”

Satoru nodded. Even in the midst of the incredible labor pains, Suguru being with him was enough to make it all a little more bearable.

“I love you,” Satoru said.

“I love you too,” Suguru smiled. “Love you so, so much.” He kissed Satoru’s temple, which then led to Satoru turning his head and pulling his husband’s head in for a kiss on the lips. “My love,” Suguru whispered.

“My one and only,” Satoru whispered back.

…

Once Satoru was fully dilated at 10cm, Suguru had him get into the birthing position he wanted. Satoru chose to lean his back against Suguru’s stomach, legs spread. They sat on the mattress right in front of the mirror to watch Satoru’s progress.

Satoru did not waste time pushing. The process was met with more yelling and panting.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing amazing,” Suguru said, keeping hold of Satoru’s hand.

“Ohhh…Suguru, I can’t!!” Satoru whined as he leaned his head back against Suguru’s shoulder. He gripped Suguru’s hand tightly as he felt the overwhelming pressure intensify between his legs. “I can’t do this!!”

Suguru rubbed Satoru’s big, hardened belly and kissed his cheek. “I know it’s hard, baby,” Suguru spoke softly. “Just try to rest for a bit. Breathe.”

Satoru took a rest from the pushing, catching his breath as he breathed through these next few contractions. Suguru continued to gently massage his belly, then rubbed his tender chest with his other hand. He looked in the mirror, which was reflecting a full body angle of Satoru, breathing heavily and leaning back against him with his legs spread, shirt lifted above the swell of his large, heavy belly.

The sight of his beautiful, birthing husband was too much for Suguru Geto.

“You know how good you look birthing my babies right now?” Suguru spoke softly into Satoru’s ear.

“Suguru, you’re so naughty,” Satoru laughed an exhausted laugh. “You want me so bad, even like this?” He knew how much Suguru loved him and his body, especially during the months when he was all round and pregnant and full of his babies.

You’re so gorgeous. I can’t ever get enough of you.” Suguru nuzzled his face into Satoru’s neck. “I love you.” Suguru said as he kissed Satoru’s neck and cheek.

“Suguru, please,” Satoru panted, looking at his husband, feeling hot with want for Suguru’s touch. “Suguru, please, touch me, I need you.”

Suguru leaned into Satoru’s face and kissed his lips, then again, then a few more times. Suguru’s kisses were so soft, gentle, and passionate, Satoru was totally melting now. Suguru reached his hand down to Satoru’s crotch and pressed two fingers to the tender lips of his opening. Satoru let out a soft moan at the touch. “Does that feel okay?”

“Mhm, yes~ More~”

Suguru slowly moved his fingers up and down Satoru’s crotch. “My Satoru’s so beautiful,” Suguru whispered softly into his partner’s ear. “Relax, baby. You’re in so much pain right now. Let me make you feel good.”

“Mmm…Suguru~” Satoru moaned. He pulled Suguru in for a passionate kiss. Suguru made quicker work of his fingers against Satoru’s swollen crotch. “It feels so good…”

“I love you, baby,” Suguru whispered.

“I love you too.”

They kissed a few more times. Suguru continued to rub his fingers at Satoru’s opening, his other hand gently massaging his swollen, tender chest. More soft moaning and whimpering from Satoru as he could feel Suguru’s fingers stimulate him.

“Suguru, I’m gonna come,” Satoru huffed. Suguru removed his hand from his husband's crotch. Satoru moaned as he came. He panted to catch his breath, eyes shut before he opened them and looked at Suguru, whose soft, dark eyes and smile were locked in on him.

“You’re so beautiful, honey,” Suguru gazed.

“I love you, I love you,” Satoru breathed.

“I love you too.”

They kissed again, then a few more times. Satoru melted into Suguru’s embrace, even in the midst of the pain of labor he could bear it better just having his husband with him.

Satoru could feel himself having another contraction.“I-I’m gonna push now,” He breathed between kisses.

“Alright, push,” Suguru said as he pulled away from a kiss.

Satoru spread his legs, waiting for another contraction before he breathed and pushed. Pushing became easier this time after Suguru pleasured him.

“That felt…that felt so good,” Satoru laughed.

“Awesome, you’re doing amazing.” Suguru smiled, kissing Satoru’s sweaty face.

Suguru reached his hand between Satoru’s legs. Satoru pushed into Suguru’s hand, Suguru felt as the baby’s head bulged.

“Keep pushing, Satoru,” Suguru said.

Satoru's breath quickened at the next contraction, pushing again, then again. He exclaimed through a harder exertion of force, feeling the lips of his opening stretch further apart as the baby’s head made its way out of his body.

“Baby’s head is out, honey, you see that?” Suguru said, eyes looking in the mirror. Satoru followed, and saw in his reflection that he’d pushed the first baby’s head out completely.

“Yes, I do,” Satoru let out an exhausted laugh. “They have hair.”

“Yeah they do have hair.” Suguru laughed and pressed his lips to Satoru’s cheek. “You’re doing incredible.”

Now came the hardest part…getting the shoulders out. Satoru’s breath quickened at the start of a contraction, and he groaned through another big push. A few more pushes, and he could feel himself stretch more, to where he feared he was at his limit.

“Hrrghhhh…ohhhhhh…!!!” Satoru clenched his teeth as he had a contraction, but couldn’t push due to a searing pain that cut through between his legs. “Suguru!!!”

“Satoru,” Suguru spoke, worried because Satoru’s tone sounded very pained. “Baby, I’m here, what’s wrong?”

“Oh my god…I’m gonna tear, I’m gonna tear,” Satoru panicked. “FUCK!!! SUGURU, I’M GONNA TEAR, IT’S BURNING!!” He started panting and gasping, the pain acute and overwhelming.

“Okay, you can stop pushing for a bit.” Suguru spoke softly. Satoru stopped pushing, clutching at Suguru’s shoulder, letting him know how scared and vulnerable he was. “Breathe, breathe, Satoru,” Suguru gently rubbed Satoru’s belly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Satoru slowed his breathing down again, breaths heavy and labored as himself. More tears stung his eyes. He would ask Suguru to pleasure him again, but he was too scared that any pressure to his crotch when it was strained would hurt.

“Suguru…I can’t push like this, I need to get up and turn around.” Satoru panted.

“I’ll help you up.” Suguru said, guiding Satoru to sit up and turn around to get on his hands and knees.

“Ohhhhh…” Satoru groaned. The baby was big, and with the head pushed out, the gravity was pulling down on his belly even more.

“I know, I know, honey,” Suguru sat in front of Satory, holding his hand to his back and kissing his head through his hair. “Just breathe, and push when you can.”

Satoru panted, waiting for the next contraction before sucking in a deep breath and pushing down. The pain wasn’t so sharp this time, he could push. “Hrrrghhhh come on…!!” He groaned.

“That’s it, good,” Suguru said, continuing to rub Satoru’s back. Satoru’s head was hung down, with the top of his head leaning against Suguru’s stomach. “How’s this for you…pushing like this?”

Satoru nodded. “Mhmmm…better…”

“Amazing,” Suguru said, “Keep going.”

Satoru straddled his legs, spreading them wider on the mattress. He gripped at the sheets as he continued to push, which was met with more yelling. Suguru kept encouraging him throughout, holding him close. After several minutes, Satoru pushed the shoulders of the first baby out.

“Hooooohhhh oh my goddddd…” Satoru groaned in overwhelm at the feeling that he was completely stretched out from this part of the birth. He started panting heavily again, his legs trembled.

“You did it, you did it, baby, you got the shoulders out.” Suguru rubbed his hand along Satoru’s back. “Keep pushing, breathe and push, you’re doing amazing. I got you.

When Satoru felt his energy build up again, he sucked in a deep breath and gave another big push. Then a few more. Satoru continued pushing on Suguru’s instruction, and after minutes of what seemed like forever, Satoru felt the baby sliding further out of his body.

“SUGURU, IT’S COMINGGGG!! FUCK…GET IT OUT!!” screamed Satoru.

“Hold onto me.” Suguru guided Satoru’s arms to wrap around his neck shoulders so he could bring his body forward for Suguru to help deliver the first baby. “Okay, Satoru, push!!”

Satoru yelled out through a hard push, hugging Suguru tightly as he guided the baby completely out of him and into his waiting hands. “Satoru, our first baby’s here.”

Satoru’s screams died down as he heard the cries of the first baby. He did not let go of Suguru, he still had his arms wrapped around him. Satoru was sobbing now.

“We have a baby boy.” Suguru gasped.

“W-Where is he?” Satoru asked frantically.

“Right here,” Suguru carefully lifted the squirming newborn up. Satoru pulled himself away from his hold on Suguru so he could see their baby, their newborn son. He had white hair, just like Satoru, his eyes dark like Suguru’s.

“Gimme him—” Satoru sobbed. Suguru placed the crying baby carefully into Satoru’s arms. More tears flowed down Satoru’s cheeks. “Hi there, hi…there you are…” Satoru whispered to his baby. “It’s okay, shh…Daddy’s got you.”

“He’s so perfect,” Suguru nodded, kissing Satoru’s sweaty face. Suguru was crying too through a laugh.

Suguru waited a bit before cutting the umbilical cord. He cleaned their newborn son and wrapped him in a fresh towel before placing him into Satoru’s arms so he could breastfeed him.

“He’s so healthy…” Suguru sighed in relief, keeping his arm wrapped around Satoru.

“Yes, he’s strong,” Satoru smiled. “He’s perfect.”

Satoru’s ongoing contractions were a constant reminder that he was supposed to do this for the second time.

Suguru placed their first baby in the crib in the corner of the room, swaddled in the towel.

Satoru sat up in bed against the pillows and headboard with his legs spread. Suguru gave him some water and checked him, making sure that there was no abnormal bleeding. And there wasn’t any, thank God. For Satoru, the contractions were practically on top of each other. At this time, he was just trying to focus on breathing steadily. His eyes were shut and his breath was a little bit shaky, but he was breathing well, deeply and slowly.

“Hey baby, are you still doing okay?” asked Suguru, rubbing Satoru’s leg.

“Mhm, I am.” Satoru nodded.

“Good, good. How do you want to push?”

“This is fine, me sitting like this.”

Suguru leaned over and kissed Satoru’s forehead. “Are you ready?”

Satoru shook his head, he was still so achy and tired from the first birth. “Not yet, just a little longer.”

“Okay, let’s stay like this for a bit. But I can’t have you not push for too long, or it won’t be good for you or this next baby.” Suguru lay beside his husband, hand on his still swollen belly and lips pressed to his cheek.

“Oohhhhhhh...” Satoru’s heavy breathing melted into soft whimpers of pain with each contraction. “Ahhhh…hahhhhhh…”

“Good job, Satoru,” Suguru whispered, his hand rubbing Satoru’s belly in circles. “Just like that, my love.”

Satoru inhaled a slow, deep breath, and exhaled it out. “You’re so good to me, Suguru,” Satoru breathed, a little weepy from the complete overwhelming exhaustion.

“I’m only loving you.” Suguru smiled. He put his hand to Satoru’s face. “I love you, I love you.” He repeated.

“I love you too.” Satoru smiled, and they kissed each other softly on the lips a few times. He pulled away when he had a contraction, signaling him he needed to get started.

“Suguru, I gotta push.” Satoru huffed through clenched teeth, hand clutching his cramping belly.

Suguru nodded, and offered his hand to Satoru for support. “Alright, push when you can.”

Satoru sucked in a deep breath, spreading his legs further. As he felt another contraction come on, he groaned out through a hard push. He threw his head back, panting out the rest of the contraction.

“Good job, Satoru, you’re doing great.” Suguru said, wiping Satoru’s sweaty forehead with the washcloth.

As the pressure increased in his pelvis with each contraction, Satoru tried to relax himself, giving into the uncontrollable urges to push. After some time and pushing on Suguru’s instruction, Satoru had pushed the next baby’s head out.

“Do you see that, Satoru? They have hair.” Suguru asked, gesturing to the mirror. Satoru looked, saw that the baby’s emerged head had light hair, likely white, same as their son’s.

“Mhm, yeah.” Satoru nodded. His body tensed and he started gasping, his eyes stung with tears. He had to get the shoulders out the second time. “Oh god, Suguru, I need you, I need you.” He wailed, tightening his grip on Suguru’s hand.

“Breathe,” Suguru rubbed Satoru’s back with his free hand. “I’m here. I got you.”

Satoru took slow, deep breaths. “Ohhhh, Suguruuuuu!” He then yelled out and arched his back through another push, the lips of his opening straining again trying to get the shoulders out.

“I know, honey,” Suguru kissed Satoru’s cheek. “Do you need to change positions?”

“No, I…I can do it this way.” Satoru shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Suguru nodded and gave Satoru’s hand a firm, reassuring squeeze. With his other hand, Suguru brushed Satoru’s white hair back from his forehead. “Okay, push again when you can.”

More minutes passed of pushing and yelling, and Satoru managed to get the shoulders out of his shuddering body. He sobbed due to exhaustion and the overwhelming strain resulting from this part of the birth, with Suguru doing his best to soothe him.

“Amazing job. You’re doing great, Satoru.” Suguru said as Satoru was looking up at the ceiling, panting heavy huffs of breath. “Just keep breathing and pushing, and this next baby will be out. You can do this.”

Satoru looked up at Suguru leaning over him. Suguru’s expression turned into a small smile, his dark eyes looking so soft and lovingly at his husband. Satoru’s heart ached, because he knew how much it hurt Suguru to see him in so much pain. But Suguru, he was here, supporting him as he brought their babies into the world. Satoru smiled a tired smile in acknowledgement and nodded.

As he felt another contraction, Satoru shut his eyes and drew his legs back, sucking in a deep breath as he pushed again. And again, and another time. The baby had now slid halfway outside of him. Satoru was so tired, tired of being pregnant and in labor, tired of feeling so sore and heavy and struggling to breathe.

“OH MY GOD IT’S COMING!!” Satoru screamed out. He let go of Suguru’s hand to pull his legs back further with his hands as the strain and pressure mounted with the baby leaving his body. “SUGURU!!”

Suguru moved himself from his husband’s side to in front of him so he could catch the baby. “I got ‘em, keep going.” Suguru assured, hands carefully placed underneath the emerging baby’s head and back.

Satoru let out a loud scream as he pushed hard, desperate to make this push his last one. The baby slid completely out of him. Suguru held the second newborn in his hands, watching as the baby took a first breath with a loud cry.

“Satoru, she’s here…we have a girl,” Suguru gasped.

“Give me…give her here, please,” Satoru panted and held out his tired arms, his eyes still shut with his head resting back against the pillows.

Suguru carefully placed their baby daughter in Satoru’s arms. Satoru opened his eyes, and saw his tiny newborn baby, who was still crying as he held her.

“Oh my baby, my baby girl, hi there, it’s okay, Daddy’s here, Daddy’s got you,” Satoru sobbed. He cupped her head. Her hair was also white, with her eyes dark. Satoru kissed her forehead, held her to his bare chest, and rubbed his hand to her back.

Suguru laughed through a sob of joy. “Satoru, she’s beautiful.” He held his hand under their daughter’s head. “Welcome to the world, little one.” Suguru looked at Satoru and kissed him repeatedly on his sweat and tear-soaked face. After assisting with the afterbirth, Suguru cut the umbilical cord and wrapped their daughter in another fresh towel. He cleaned Satoru up next, then the bedding, discarding the bloodied towels. “Let me get our son, yeah?” Suguru asked Satoru. “So you can hold him too.”

Suguru went over to the crib to take their son in his arms. He gave him to Satoru, who was sitting up with his back against the stacked pillows, and holding the twins in both his arms for breastfeeding.

“Suguru, thank you, thank you.” Satoru sobbed out. He was so tired, but relieved. Because it was over, their babies were born healthy. And Suguru had been there to support him throughout all the pain and exhaustion that came with giving birth. “For being here.”

Suguru was kneeling in front of Satoru, hand holding the back of his head. He pulled him closer with him until their foreheads were pressed together. “I’m here, always here. And thank you, Satoru,” Suguru spoke softly. “You gave us two perfect, healthy babies. You’re so strong and so amazing.”

“I love you.” Satoru said. “I love our family.”

“I love you too, and our family. I love all of us.” Suguru kissed Satoru’s lips once. They pulled away slowly to gaze into each other’s eyes before kissing again a few more times.

Suguru and Satoru had done it, giving birth to healthy twin babies. The couple could finally rest, just for now.

#birth fiction #birth kink #giving birth #preg kink #pregnancy kink #labor #labor kink #in labor #mpreg #mpreg kink #mpregnancy #tmpreg

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hopecountyisforlovers · 3 years

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tangled up in arms;

/You are Project Ambrosia, a genetically altered human test subject with abilities that could revolutionize the medical field- kept captive for a lifetime in a high tower. He is Otto Octavius, former scientist turned supervillain after a fusion accident, itching to continue his research. When your paths cross, will it simply mean your freedom? Or perhaps... something more? || Takes place in a modified offshoot of the Raimiverse. Rating may change later if I decide to write spicy scenes. Currently a soft M for themes and Violence. Heavily inspired by Disney's Tangled.

Read It On Archive

Chapter One: Routine

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The ticking of the clock on the wall rang in your head, the only sound in the silent white room whose walls consisted of most of what you'd ever known. It was both easy and hard to lose track of time- sometimes, minutes zipped by so fast you could swear the tick-tock of the clock was moving in fast forward. Other times, it seemed like it was on pause, like the same day had been going on for your whole life.

Today was the latter. You sighed vocally from where you laid on your back in your bed, even though there was no one to hear it. Even if someone was there to hear it, you knew nobody would listen. The people who worked here saw you as more of an experiment than a human being- something to be locked up and used to make them all rich. You were sure nobody knew that you were up here, that you had been born here, that you had spent 24 years here, a captive of Oscorp Labs code-named Project Ambrosia. Surely, if people knew... they would be outraged, right? You were a human being... weren't you? Did you still count?

You looked at your hand, turning it over and back under the bright fluorescent lights. It looked like a human hand to you, at least. You were sure all of you still looked human, despite the modifications that had been made to your DNA. At least, you were pretty sure. It had been a while since they had let you see yourself in a mirror.

And yet... you had given up on anyone being outraged on your behalf. That hope had lived in you, light in the way that only hope can be, years ago, as a defiant child- but hope is a much harder thing to hold onto the older you get. You had dreamed of grass between your toes, of fresh air, of friends. Night after night of begging the universe for someone to rescue you had given way to night after night of being angry that no one had, and that had given way to a quiet resignation of sorts.

How could you dream about something you didn't know anything about?

Either no one knew you were up here, and they never would, as tightly guarded a secret you were, or they did, and it was obvious that no one cared. And regardless, there was no reason to think you would be going anywhere anytime soon- no matter how badly you still secretly wanted to, in the very deepest and most shielded part of your heart.

To your right, the thin slot on the bottom of the door- just big enough for the plate of food that fit through it- opened up, producing your lunch from the other side- pasty looking chicken strips . It didn't look particularly appetizing, and you knew from experience it wouldn't be- but if you chose to starve yourself again, you also knew from experience they would just knock you out and feed you intravenously. It was more trouble than it was worth.

You rose from your firm bed, looking around at the four pristine walls of your windowless cage, breathing in the stale, chemical-scented air that even the scent of food did nothing to liven up. The only good thing about lunch being served was that it generally meant that your time being poked and prodded for the day was over, although it was a double-edged sword- it also generally meant you wouldn't be leaving your little room again for the rest of the day.

As you retrieved your lunch, returned to your bed, and ate, you looked at your arm, your wrist. The evidence of this mornings tests were nowhere to be found on them, as always, but they lingered in your mind- it wasn't as if you had never had blood drawn, but today they seemed intent on testing how quick your regeneration of it was. Bag after bag, labeled and handed off to people who watched you, some with a disgusted fascination, others with dollar signs in their eyes.....

You shivered, and yet it somehow had nothing to do with the blood loss- you had hardly felt it then, and it had no effect on you now. They had been looking at you like you were a freak. The feeling sat heavy in your stomach, making the bland food you were slowly working your way through seem even more unappetizing.

Could you really blame them, though? You certainly weren't normal. You thought of the bags of blood again, bright red- the only splash of color in this sterile, pale place. Did other people bleed that same red? Could they tell just by looking at it that you weren't like them? Would they all know, even if you managed to get out of here? You were so lost in thought that you didn't realize your plate was empty until you shoved a plastic forkful of nothing into your mouth. You tried to clear your thoughts, mostly unsuccessfully; it didn't matter that it didn't do you any good to think about things like that. What did you have to do besides think, after all?

You put the plate back down in front of its little door- someone would get it later, they always did- and lay back down in your bed for a nap, just like you had yesterday and the day before that. It's not even that you were tired- it had just become a habit, and in this place, habit and ritual were the most powerful forces there were.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound was almost comforting, in a way.

It wasn't long before it began to lull you to sleep- your last conscious thought that, for better or for worse, the routine of this place, and your life, would stay unbroken.

If only you knew how wrong you were.

#my writing #yes this isnt the kind of thing i usually write #the links will be updated to the other two chapters when ive posted them to tumblr #LISTEN should i have used a gif of him when hes not in this chapter #maybe not but also dont bully me #otto octavius #doc ock #doctor octopus #otto octavius x reader

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nerdierholler · 3 years

Text

Wayhaven Frights Day 7: Isolation

Pairing: Ethan Langford/Adam du Mortain Rating: G Words: 1925 Warnings: none Ethan's been shut up alone inside his apartment dealing with the flu and Adam comes to check on him. It's flirty fluff, mostly on Ethan's part. Even sick he's absolutely incorrigible. Also you can read it on AO3 here.

Isolation

Fevers and chills had racked Ethan’s body for several days now. At the first sign he was feeling under the weather, the captain had ordered him out of the station, something Ethan resented in the moment but was grateful for by the time he’d collapsed into bed later. And in bed was where he’d stayed for most of the last 48 hours. It had taken him 10 minutes yesterday just to get the pot of soup Tina left on his doorstep and put it away. Afterwards he slept for 8 hours from just that small amount of exertion.

The buzzing sound of his phone grating against his nightstand woke Ethan up. He rolled over, grimacing as he peeled himself away from the sweat soaked sheets. If it was Douglas calling to check on him yet again he was going to strangle the kid as soon as he could hold his arms up for more than a few minutes. He looked at the caller ID. It was Adam.

“Hey,” Ethan croaked, the first word he’d spoken in days.

“You sound terrible.”

“I feel terrible.” He let the phone drop onto the side of his face, too tired to hold it up. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, can I go back to sleep?”

“Agent Langford contacted me. She’s concerned about your illness and wanted to check in on you.”

“You checked, I’m still alive. Goodbye now.”

“In person.”

Ethan groaned. He was an adult, not a child, he didn’t need his mother trying to babysit him just because he had the flu.

“Since catching your illness isn’t a concern, I offered to stop by after my patrol.”

Normally, Ethan’s heart would be fluttering at the rare moment of concern from the usually stoic leader, but right now even the opportunity of having Adam alone in his apartment wasn’t enough to overpower Ethan’s desire for rest.

“Fine.” Even if he had the energy, he knew there’d be no point in arguing if both Adam and his mother had conspired against him. “But don’t expect me to get the door, just let yourself in and try to be quiet.”

In the brief silence that followed, Ethan could perfectly picture Adam about to protest against just waltzing into his apartment and somehow invading his privacy. “I’ll be there shortly,” he said finally.

“Okay.”

“Goodbye, detective.”

“Yeah,” Ethan mumbled. Rolling over, he let the phone slide off his face and onto the pillow. In a few moments he was asleep once again.

Several hours passed before Ethan opened his eyes. When he did, he could just make out the faint traces of sunset shining through the curtains. Adam must have come by while he was sleeping. At least he didn’t wake him up in the process. It felt like that last bit of sleep might have been what he needed to start turning the corner. At the very least it meant he woke up feeling well enough to make it as far as the kitchen for some water.

He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up, allowing a few moments to adjust to the change in position before attempting to stand. His knees didn’t immediately buckle, so that was a good start. He shuffled over to the door, holding onto the frame for support as he opened it. And on the other side was Adam, sitting on his couch with a book, green eyes darting up to look at him.

Ethan would be lying if the thought of standing in front of Adam, clad only in his boxers, hadn't crossed his mind before. This just wasn’t how he imagined it playing out. There was usually a lot more lead up to this point and a lot less body odor on his part. As it was, the most he could manage was a lopsided grin in apology for his current state of existence.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Don’t worry, I’m heading back shortly, just getting some water. Maybe food and a shower too, but let’s not get carried away just yet.”

Adam watched him closely as he made his way to the kitchen. Ethan had no doubt he was ready to jump up if he showed any sign of trouble. Briefly, he considered faking a stumble just to see what Adam would do but decided against it. There was too great a chance of his fake attempt becoming a real one.

Ethan filled a glass from the sink and drained it in one long gulp. Filling it again, he leaned back against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes, partially to avoid looking at Adam, but mostly because even the short walk across the apartment had made his head start to spin.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Adam’s voice was just a few feet away now. He must have gotten up after Ethan closed his eyes. “I’m fine.” There was a huff of disapproval from nearby. “Or I will be. It’s just the flu. A few more days of rest and I’ll be right as rain. Don’t worry about...” the last word hung on Ethan’s lips as he opened his eyes and found Adam standing right beside him, brow knotted with concern. Raising the glass to his lips, Ethan took another long drink.

“May I?” Adam asked as he lifted a hand towards Ethan’s face,

Ethan could only nod silently, not sure of what to expect next and half wondering if maybe this was all just part of some fevered dream. Adam placed his hand on Ethan’s forehead for a few moments, the touch making his whole body tingle. He made a mental note to hide the digital thermometer that was currently sitting on his nightstand.

“I don’t feel any fever but that doesn’t mean it won’t return. I think it would be best if you returned to bed as soon as possible.”

Part of Ethan wanted to immediately protest, an unfortunate side effect of having spent so much time with the vampire. In this instance however, there really wasn’t a reason for them to butt heads. It wasn’t like Ethan had been planning on going for a long evening stroll or something. “At the very least, I’m going to take a quick shower,” his stomach gurgled, “and maybe eat something, then it’s back to bed, I promise.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Adam and his face softened with relief, apparently not in the mood to fight either. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“In the shower?” Ethan raised an eyebrow, “I’m sure I could think of something.”

Adam folded his arms across his chest, “That was not what I meant.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan waved a hand dismissively as he made his way to the bathroom. Flirting with Adam when he was standing in his underwear was probably a bad idea anyway. “I’m fine. I’ll deal with my own messes in a few days, there’s nothing that can’t wait.” He turned back to Adam with a genuine smile, “Thanks for offering though.”

The hot water running over Ethan made him want to melt into the drain at his feet. If he had a list of top ten showers he’d ever taken, this would have been one of them. He didn’t have a list, but his mind quickly started to form one before he stopped himself. Adam was still in the other room and while some of those might be pleasant memories to revisit, now was not the time.

He stood there for longer than he’d intended as the aches in his body slowly dissolved until he felt blissfully limp and relaxed. He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist then opened the door. And immediately closed it. Right, Adam. Ethan looked down at the boxers in the hamper, he really didn’t want to put them back on, even for just a few minutes to get to his room. He cracked the door just wide enough for his face to peek through.

“Hey, Adam? Can you do me a favor?”

Adam eyed him cautiously, unsure of what kind of favor the detective might ask, “Yes?”

“Bring me some shorts. Middle drawer, any pair is fine.”

For the briefest of moments Adam’s face blushed with realization at the request and Ethan couldn’t help but wonder how much Adam enjoyed the mental image that must have just passed through his mind. He hoped it was quite a lot.

In half a minute, Adam returned, holding out a pair of shorts, which Ethan quickly grabbed and put on. Finally emerging from the bathroom, he looked between the kitchen and his bedroom. Despite how much he’d slept recently, floating back into bed seemed too irresistible given his relaxed state.

“Alright, I’m going back to bed, I’ll worry about food the next time I get up.”

Instead of seeming pleased with this announcement, Adam frowned instead. “When was the last time you ate something?”

“Umm,” Ethan ran his fingers through his wet hair in thought, “I think I had some crackers yesterday, maybe.”

Adam’s frown deepened, “Last time I checked, humans required regular meals.”

“I thought you wanted me in bed?”

“I do,” Ethan quirked an eyebrow at Adam’s words, causing him to pause and clear his throat. “That is, I think you need more rest in order to recover. If you want to lay down, I would be happy to bring you something.”

“If you insist.” Ethan started to head back to his room, “Tina brought some soup by the other day, it’s in the big green dish in the fridge, just put some in a smaller bowl-”

“I remember how to make soup,” Adam interrupted.

“Two and half minutes in the microwave should be enough. Do you know how to work the-”

“Yes, I know!”

Ethan chuckled to himself as he pulled back the duvet and slipped between the crisp sheets. This felt heavenly, hopefully he could stay awake long enough for Adam to bring him his soup.

Wait. Ethan rolled over and sniffed his pillow. These were clean sheets. Had Adam? While he was in the shower? Ethan closed his eyes with a happy sigh. As frustrating as it could be trying to figure Adam out, there was nothing in the world like those times when he showed how much he cared.

“Here, it’s hot,” Adam said, as he set the bowl down on the side table.

Ethan sat up and grabbed it, enjoying the feeling of warmth in his hands. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft and the smile that played on the corners of his lips didn’t escape Ethan’s notice.

“I really appreciate you coming by. I don’t think I realized how nice it would be to see someone again.” To see you again.

“It was no trouble, Ethan. I was glad to be of assistance.”

“Care to fill me in on what I’ve missed that last couple of days? Just while I finish this,” Ethan added, “then I’ll be a good boy and go back to sleep.”

The smile Adam had been trying to suppress finally broke through and he leaned against the dresser, telling Ethan about the latest news from the warehouse. Ethan wanted this to last, the comfortable conversation. He ate as slowly as possible and the last few spoonfuls were cold by the time he got to them. But try as he might, his body got the better of him and it wasn’t long after Adam carried the empty bowl away to the kitchen that Ethan was fast asleep once more.

#wayhavenfrights #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #detective x adam #ethan langford #ethan is a tall sassy drink of water #and adam is just going to have to deal with that #please just imagine adam screaming internally as ethan walks around his underwear the whole time #life at nerdy holler #nerdy writes #this was a long one #downside is I've burned through my few days of buffer

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page-doctor-bekker · 3 years

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First Encounter - Lymphoblastic!au

(A/N) First fic for my lymphoblastic!au! Enjoy! This is really just setting up for the rest of the fic, so it's not the most interesting thing ever. It sets up the dynamic though!

"So here's my digs right now," Ava chuckled, showing the FaceTime camera the full span of the room, "This is my first time in the new Oncology ward, the room is nice, the view is shit, and everything..." She pointed and zoomed in at the door handle, then at an unstable chair, "Is suicide proof."

Connor laughed, "Well, you can't say it's for no reason!"

Ava's brief stint in the psych ward at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center was proof of that.

"Well, yeah, it's nice that they thought of that," She rolled her eyes, and sat back down on her bed, "The new mattresses are comfy."

"They're some fancy memory foam or something," Connor shrugged, sipping his coffee, "They splashed out on them. I guess a chief complaint of Oncology patients is lack of sleep."

"Maybe that would improve if they didn't shine flashlights in our faces all the time. I would like to die in peace."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"It's a joke, Connor," She said, weakly, "Laugh."

Connor gave a forced laugh, and Ava started to laugh herself. Connor's laugh grew harder, and more real.

"Hey, I've gotta get to work," Connor said, through his laughter, "I'll pop up and say hello when I get the chance."

Ava glanced out the window, "Alright," She said after awhile, "I'll see you then."

They hung up soon after, and Ava was alone with her thoughts, and her seemingly endless headache. She pulled off her wig, something she hadn't had the chance to do since she got to the hospital. She peeled each piece of wig tape off, wincing as it pulled at her skin. She never bothered wearing a wig in the hospital, even as a young teenager.

She collapsed into bed, pulling her weighted blanket over her and sighing.

Any time she was admitted she always brought her own blankets and pillows. They helped her feel at home. And every admission brought a significant risk of death, and if she was dying, she was going to die under the comfort of her own blankets.

Call it childish, but she brought her own stuffed animal too. A bear her mom bought her when she was first diagnosed.

She hugged the bear close to her chest, and curled around it. Her head pounded, and she felt a pang of... Something, an emotion, deep in her chest.

There was a knock on her door, and it was opened seconds later. Ava never understood why doctors knocked if they were just going to open the door anyways.

"Hey, you're going to have a roommate in the next few hours," A nurse that Ava recognized from a few admissions ago, spoke, "Please, please be nice. I obviously can't tell you anything, but just keep in mind what your first admission was like for you."

That stuck with Ava.

"Mama," Ava's voice shook. She widened the bathroom door, letting light spill into the room. Her now-bloody hospital gown hung off of her, and the light jolted her mom awake.

"Avie? What happened?"

"I don't know," Her voice heightened in fear, holding the blood-soaked tissue to her nose, "Can you call the doctor please."

Ava's mom put her glasses on and looked around, "Moeder van God, what happened to you?"

"My nose," Ava sniffled, spitting out blood from her mouth. There was blood everywhere - Her gown, her hands, her face, the floor, her bed...

"We need a doctor!" Ava's mom called out, pushing the call button on the wall and rushing to her daughter, "Quickly!"

A nurse came in a few minutes later, "Page Dr. Sal," The nurse yelled out into the hall and flicked the overhead light on, "It's okay sweetie, we're going to get you cleaned up."

Ava was sobbing at this point, shaking at the sight of her own blood, "Why isn't it stopping?"

Sarah was wheeled into the room at around lunch time, at the same time that the meal cart came around. The meal cart nurse set Ava's lunch down on her bed tray, and set Sarah's lunch on her side table.

Sarah looked pale, and thin. She had a big, ugly bruise on one of her arms, and a second smaller bruise on her opposite hand. They had her IV line on the thumb-side of her forearm, and a saline infusion running into it.

"Ava, your chemotherapy will be set up in..." The nurse bringing Sarah glanced at the clock, "Half an hour? Probably as soon as you're done eating. I'll come back in just a minute to give you your pre-medication, and then we'll start once those meds kick in."

Ava nodded, opening her food. Ah, breakfast for lunch. Two mildly soggy pieces of french toast with strawberries, a little cup of syrup, a cup of apple juice with a foil lid creatively labeled "Apple Juice", and about half a cup of scrambled eggs.

One thing she'll reluctantly compliment Gaffney on is the food. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly. For the most part this hospital frustrated her to no end and if she never came here again she would be thrilled, but the food was not terrible. Which was a glowing review, as far as Ava was concerned.

Ava snapped a picture and sent it to Connor's Snapchat. A tradition, to send him her hospital meals before eating and then send him a rating when she finished.

"Is the food here okay?"

Ava looked up at Sarah, who was now inspecting her food.

"Ah, it's not terrible, but hospital food is never great."

"I wouldn't know," She laughed weakly, "I've never even been to a hospital before," She confessed.

"Lucky you," Ava announced, "The french toast is easily the best out of all of the meals. I think I've tried almost all of them," She paused for a moment, poking her straw through the foil lid of her apple juice, "I've also tried the nearby restaurants that deliver here. Some of them throw in free delivery if you tell them you're in the oncology ward. Cancer kid perks," She joked, and Sarah sat in uncomfortable silence.

They ate quietly.

The nurse showed back up a few minutes later with several syringes in hand, "Ready Ava?"

Ava nodded, and fished her brand-new triple-lumen PICC line (the doctors really hooked her up with the good line) out of her blankets, "Ready as I'll ever be."

The nurse pushed Benadryl first, which made Ava's head feel heavy. She always felt like she had to consciously remember to breathe when she had IV Benadryl - It hit so much harder than oral Benadryl.

Zofran came next. She felt tired, but she really wouldn't be able to gauge the effects until her infusion started.

"We'll run the antibiotics through the port so they hit the bacteria directly, and we'll run your chemo and anything other than the antibiotics through your PICC," The nurse explained, "We want to eradicate this bug but we're concerned about the mass in your brain... We don't want to stop chemo and give it a chance to grow bigger."

Ava nodded, watching the nurse finish off her line, "When will my infusion start?"

The nurse looked at the clock, "Probably about one o' clock, about half an hour from now."

Ava nodded, and continued to eat after the nurse finished using her line.

She finished right before the nurse came back in to start her infusion, a clear bag with a bright yellow label, "CHEMOTHERAPY DRUGS", with a radioactivity symbol. Out of the corner of her eye, Ava saw Sarah pale at the scary label.

"Have fun," The nurse joked, and Ava rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, I'll try."

Sarah watched the medicine flow into Ava's line, and almost felt an urge to cry.

"Would you stop gawking at me?" Ava snapped.

"Sorry, sorry," Sarah squeaked, moving her eyes back to her phone.

"What's your diagnosis?" Ava pried, curious as ever.

"Leukemia."

Ava sighed, annoyed at the lack of specificity, "What kind?"

"I don't know, does it matter?"

Ava huffed, "Of course it matters. They're different."

"What are all the types? Maybe I'd recognize it when I hear it?"

"I can't list every single type of Leukemia," Ava rolled her eyes, "Is it acute or chronic?"

"What's the difference?"

"Nevermind," Ava muttered.

"I'm sorry that I'm not a doctor," Sarah replied, sarcastically, "I mean, what do you want me to do? I was diagnosed yesterday. I spent the night in the emergency room. Do you want me to become a doctor while I'm laying in a pool of my own blood?"

Ava felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Bekker, your daughter has Acute Myeloid Leukemia, a type of blood cancer."

"Sorry I just..." Ava's voice grew small, "I didn't know."

"Yeah, whatever. It's fine. I'm going to take a nap."

"Okay."

#lymphoblastic!au #ava bekker #sarah reese #reesker #ava bekker x sarah reese #chicago med #chicago med writing #usercj #crockettstiddies #purple-dahlias

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jpegjade · 4 years

Text

If I Believe You - Spencer

Welcome to another fluffy story! This is the unplanned story I mentioned bc I was feeling down last night and I needed to just write something.

Warnings: It’s a lot of fluff but it does deal with a few signs of depression. There’s nothing graphic and it’s mainly talking. so if you’re not up for that, i have other fluffy stuff that might fit better! don’t push yourself!

____________________________

“Y/n, I’m home. I got groceries!” Spencer called.

You spent the weekend in bed. What else was there to do? Spencer was gone and you had a complete loss of interest in the world, especially your world. It was just better to be in bed all day, whether or not you were able to sleep.

“Hey.” You said, half heartedly. Your voice felt like it didn’t work.

“You turned over!” He said, smiling.

He was right. Earlier in the day, you turned over from being on your right side, which gave you the best view of staring at Spencer, to your left side, where you could charge your phone and use it at the same time while it was connected to your nightstand.

“Stop smiling. I didn’t do anything.” You said, putting your phone down on the nightstand.

Spencer walked over and kissed you on the forehead before going to change into his pajamas. You still didn’t move. Everything inside hurt, you were so heavy, and all you wanted to do was be anywhere but alive.

When Spencer came back, he climbed into bed and scooted himself all the way to you. You rolled back over, feeling like it took all of your energy just to move that much. You groaned the whole time and made Spencer smile.

“You turned over again. I’m so proud of you.” Spencer said, tapping your nose.

“You’re such a nerd, you know that?” You smiled just enough to bring out his full smile. It makes him so happy that in the middle of your worst depression symptoms, he could make you smile.

“Yes, I have been told by you, repeatedly.” He smiled.

Spencer just stared at you, watching you breathe. Your heart rate was steady and he was just thinking about you. You were so quiet and it was hard for him to watch. He was used to you talking, asking him about his day, wondering what was on his mind. But right now? All he could wonder was what he could do to help, what he could do to lift your spirits in the slightest.

“Have you eaten today?” He whispered as if it was against the rules to speak normally.

When you struggled like this, it just seemed like it was easier to stay close, keep things intimate.

“I’m not hungry.” You said, voice barely audible.

“Come on, y/n. You have to eat today. I let you slide with a granola bar yesterday but I need you to eat today. Real food.” He pleaded with you just a little bit.

“Spencer, I don’t want to eat. I’m so tired.” You sighed. Of course he was going to try to do this.

“I know, sweetie. But you have to eat.” He said, still quiet.

There was a patient silence between you, almost like a standoff. You were determined to hold out and Spencer was determined to not give in. You didn’t mind the silence, you didn’t have to talk. Meanwhile, Spencer just wanted to talk to you. You lit up his day and all he wanted was to take a moment to brighten yours.

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” He started. “You eat some food and I’ll eat you.”

“Smartass.” You smiled at him, a small smile but a smile.

“I got you to smile. I love you.” He kissed your forehead and scooted even closer to you.

“But you have to eat. Severe depression has decreased your appetite significantly and it’s going to lead to malnutrition soon if I can’t get something in you that gives you enough nutrients to sustain your body. Malnutrition can lead to a multitude of additional health problems, if you would like to hear about them.”

“Spencer, just because I’m not hungry, it doesn’t mean I’m going to be malnourished. It just means I’m sad today. And yesterday. And the day before. Need I go on?” You asked, followed by a sigh.

“Why are you sighing?” He asked, knowing it was related to something.

“I’m so tired of being this way. I’m tired of knowing that in the end, I will always be this way. It will always come back to being down and I don’t want the cycle to continue. If I could, I would make it stop.” A tear escaped and you angrily wiped it off.

Spencer was speechless. He didn’t know what to say because you were right. It was chronic and while manageable, it wasn’t going to be fixed. He wanted so badly to fix it, to help you. But this isn’t a case. He can’t help you like he couldn’t help his mom for all of those years. But he has gotten better, he built a better relationship with his mom. He has gotten better at caring for you because he became more attentive to you rather than the statistics and numbers.

“I can’t say that it will get better soon. I can’t say that you’ll feel better. But I can say that you will eventually feel better, a little bit at a time, okay? I can say that I will be right here when you are ready to do the smallest things, like eat some orange slices. Or apple slices. Or some kind of easily edible, nutrient filled food. I can say that I won’t stop talking, whether or not you end up hating the sound of my voice or me or love the sound of my voice and me. I can say that you will see the sun again, loving it as if these tough times never happened. I can say…”

“Spencer, shut up and get me the damn orange slices.” You said, rolling your eyes.

He knew the eye roll was sarcastic but he also saw the smile you tried to fight. You failed and ended up giving him what you could manage. Spencer hopped out of the bed, nearly skipping to the kitchen area. He was so happy that you were going to eat something.

You groaned because it was freezing cold in the apartment and Spencer getting up meant that you lost another body of warmth. You sighed, preparing yourself to sit up by the time Spencer came back. If you did it before he got there, he would be really proud of you. You liked when he was proud of you, no matter how down you were. It made the smallest difference in your day because you loved him.

But, at the same time, it can be hard to love someone when you don’t want to be alive. It can be difficult to love anything when you don’t want to be awake. But no matter how much you had to fight to keep your eyes open, Spencer was there when he could be. He volunteered to work cases with Garcia as much as he could so he could make sure you were alright, he didn’t spend late nights at the office anymore, and of course, he spent more time caring for you. And this made you feel even more horrible.

“Y/n? I got the orange slices!” He was still upbeat. You liked that he could be so… Optimistic yet realistic at the same time. He was optimistic that you would get better but realistic about it taking a lot of time and effort.

“Thank you, baby.” You smiled as much as you could but it felt so empty, forced.

He was staring at you with such adoration as you as you ate your half of the orange while he ate his half.

“I’m so proud of you right now.” Spencer scooted over to sit right next to you, leaning his head over so you touched shoulders and his head was on top of yours. “You did it. You ate something today. We’ll try again later but do you want to cuddle? If not, that’s okay. We can nap. Or not nap. We can… Oh, I can read to you. You don’t have to listen.”

“Spencer, can you kiss me, please?” You asked, watching his eyes light up.

It had been a while since you wanted a real kiss. He had settled for giving you kisses on the face and your hand and wherever else he had access to because you just weren’t up for making out or anything that might lead to it.

This kiss was special, gentle. He was hesitant but it was okay because that was what you needed. You just wanted to show him that you appreciate him and everything he does in his love language, which was touch. He loved touching any body part possible, just knowing that you’re there with him. Sometimes, it’s what kept him from falling apart. You may not know it but you kept him from falling apart.

“Why did you do that?” He asked, face still close to yours. Your noses were touching and he was whispering again. The moment was so fragile, he didn’t want to pull away.

“Because I just wanted to remind you I love you. You do a lot for me, I figured I could do something for you. You like kisses so… Just thought I would give you one.” You said, wanting so badly to lay down but you didn’t want to disconnect from Spencer. Not right now. You needed this little thing, whatever it was.

“I love you. And nothing will change that. If I could, I would…” Spencer stopped. He knew how you felt about when he said he would take it onto his own shoulders if he could.

“It’s okay.” You said, quietly. A tear ran down your cheek, followed by a tear down his face as well.

“Can you read to me? I’m tired again and I just want to hear your voice.” You said, breaking away from Spencer to wiggle back down, completely under the blanket.

“I’ll go get a couple books.” Spencer started to move but you stopped him.

“No. From your memory, just pick a book and read. I don’t really care about following along. I just...Need you right now.” You said, followed by a yawn.

“Okay.” Spencer got back under the blanket completely, holding his arm out for you to come closer.

“If I believe it will get better, will that make the emptiness stop? I want to believe you so badly. And I need to believe in something because I can’t just believe in nothing...” You whispered, another tear rolling down your face.

“The emptiness won’t go away, y/n. It will always be there. And I’m sorry I have to say it but it’s true. My emptiness doesn’t go away, either. But it gets easier, you can fill it with some things to make it easier to handle. You can feel it less at some moments and more at other moments. The emptiness will be there but the loneliness won’t always be there. The feelings of despair won’t always be there. The hatred for being alive won't always be there. You know why? Because you won’t always think that way. You won’t always be down. You won’t always feel the worst feelings you can possibly imagine. If you believe me, then you’ll see we’ve got a lot of joy to find. And happiness. My mom would say we’ve got ‘adventures’ to go on.”

And with a few more tears running down your face, you smiled what you could manage before closing your eyes and letting spencer talking send you back to sleep for the day.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff

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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, tabbytabbytabby!

For @tabbytabbytabby, who wanted alive Hale pack and anything alternative universe. MERRY CHRISTMAS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!!! I decided to go with a rock band AU because let's face it, they're all stupid hot and would look so good doing it. My headcanon for alive Laura Hale is the incomparable Katie McGrath if you want a visual. Those eyes, man. They make my little bisexual heart very happy.

Also everyone here is somewhere in the Kinsey Scale :)))) There will be smut and idiocy. Idiots in love has become one of my favourite tags!

The underage occurs when Derek and Stiles are in high school. Derek is a senior and Stiles is a sophomore.

Band line up is as follows:

Laura - lead vocals Derek - lead guitar Boyd - bass Erica - acoustic guitar and backing vocals Isaac - keyboard and backing vocals Cora - drums and backing vocals

Read On AO3

*****

Edge Of Seventeen

Chapter 1 - Say What Now?

‘Do you want to?’

It took Stiles a few moments to focus on the words, electricity buzzing under his skin and his mouth bruised and still wet with Derek’s spit. Two warm broad hands settled either side of his face and gently redirected his attention. In the dark of the Camaro’s back seat, Derek’s pale eyes glittered.

‘We can.’ His voice was low and rough, his breathing out of kilter. ‘If you want to.’

Stiles looked at him, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute.

I want to.’ he said and fell into another kiss.

The alarm woke Stiles with a start. He swore and leaned over to slide a finger across the screen and turn it off. He’d forgotten when he’d arrived the night before, still a little jet lagged and not quite with everything when he’d collapsed into bed and been asleep in what was probably a record time.

He lay still, looking up at the ceiling and getting his breath back. He hadn’t had a dream about Derek Hale in a very long time and he was chalking it up to being back in his childhood bed. Independence Day had been the one holiday he’d won in the field office lottery, and so Stiles had packed up and gone home for the long weekend, four blissful days off. He’d known going into the FBI would be hard, but he’d had no idea just how hard it would be. Noah was delighted. The last time they’d seen each other had been Christmas and Stiles had been morose after yet another break up. He’d spent an afternoon wandering around the preserve, ending up staring at the Hale house, still closed up and looking a little worse for wear, with nary a Hale in sight.

This time it was summer, the heat already making his room uncomfortable. Stiles grimaced and plucked his damp t-shirt away from his skin, sitting up and dragging a hand over his face as he tried to wake up properly, manfully ignoring his dream-induced erection that made him feel like he was a teenager all over again.

‘Stiles?’ Noah yelled from downstairs. ‘You up, kiddo?’

‘I’m twenty-six, Dad,’ Stiles muttered, standing up and stretching. ‘Not a kid anymore.’

He was feeling it too, the crashing realisation that those carefree days were far behind him. He had a job and an apartment in Sacramento, cacti that he had managed not to kill. All the cool stuff. It wasn’t hard to feel like something was missing but Stiles would never admit that the string of failed relationships he had accumulated were anything to do with what Lydia referred to as ‘the one who got away’.

Noah was in the kitchen as he predicted, sleep rumpled and unshaven in sweat pants and an old BHPD t-shirt. He’d been taking it a bit easier, giving Parrish more and more responsibility. Stiles was pleased and Parrish was both smart and sensible, a combination that Lydia had found irresistible. Their senior year fling had evolved into a long term relationship until Lydia had come home to buy them a small clapboard Victorian near the preserve and commute to the research lab every day where she had her associate professorship. Parrish had presented her with a simple solitaire ring at Christmas and she was very happy.

‘Are you going to see Mom?’ he asked and Stiles nodded, grabbing the orange juice from the ridge and pouring himself a glass, sniffing hopefully at the eggs Noah was scrambling. He noticed Stiles’ meaningful look and grinned.

‘I thought I would go after breakfast,’ He beamed at his father when he was presented with a plate full of eggs and bacon.

‘It’s turkey before you get on your high horse,’ Noah told him. ‘Get your own coffee if you want some.’

‘Not yet.’ Stiles made space for him to sit down and they ate in comfortable silence. Once finished, he did get up to make two cups. Noah accepted his gratefully and smiled at his son, grey eyes twinkling.

‘So…,’ he started and Stiles held up a finger.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t care who it is you want to set me up with, it’s not happening.’ His parents had a terrible habit of matchmaking.

Noah held up both hands in supplication.

‘Not setting you up,’ he protested. ‘Just thought I’d mention that when your mother went into the shop yesterday, she saw a ghost from the past. Several, actually.’

Stiles cursed internally. His dad knew he couldn’t resist a good mystery.

‘Okay, I’ll bite,’ he replied, starting to get up.

‘The Hales.’ Noah replied with all the smugness of a man who knew he had the scoop of the year.

‘Oh fuck.’ Stiles blurted and tripped over his chair.

It was the sneezing that woke Derek up.

‘Jesus fuck!’ Laura roared a floor below him. ‘How much fucking shit is in this place?’

‘Oh good, she’s awake.’ Cora muttered and turned over. They were in what had been the twins’ bedroom, each of them crammed into a single that was a little on the small side. The top storey of the house was still a burned out wreck and the furniture had been largely taken away over the years and so the pickings had been slim, with their merry threesome taking the scorched master bedroom and Laura camping out on the sagging couch downstairs. As Alpha, she always preferred to be on watch as it were.

‘This was such a bad idea.’ Derek borrowed deeper into his comforter. ‘We should have brought the bus.’

‘That would have given the game away.’ Laura replied, hearing them both perfectly even though she was now in the kitchen. ‘Which part of low profile are you two having trouble with?’

‘We could have always stayed in a hotel. Sleeping int the burned out remains of our family home is precisely the opposite of low profile. Lo.’ Derek pointed out, sitting up. There was no way he’d be going back to sleep. Not with his alpha on a mission.

‘Discretion is our watchword, Derek.’ Laura hissed and started banging pots and pans around with a maximum of noise. Derek looked over at Cora. Her dark eyes were just visible under the pillow she had over her head.

‘You’re her second.’ She bared her teeth at him. ‘You go deal with her.’

‘I hate you.’ Derek said flatly, rolling out of bed and onto his feet. He stumbled a little on the stairs, still half asleep. Laura had her head buried in a blackened cupboard when he got to the kitchen. It hadn’t been as badly affected as the rest of the house but it was still a health hazard as far as he was concerned.

‘Where the hell is the waffle iron?’ she demanded. ‘Mom said she left it here.’

‘Who the fuck knows?’ Derek yawned and went to the fridge. There was nothing inside except for a gallon of milk and the leftover Chinese take out from the night before. He sniffed a carton of lemon chicken, grabbing some disposable chopsticks from the small pile on the kitchen table, and started eating. Laura eyed him, one fang just visible.

‘We need proper food.’ She glared at the ceiling. ‘Everybody up! We’re going grocery shopping!’

‘Christ.’ Derek grumbled. ‘You think that’s low profile too?’

‘Shut up.’ Laura swept past him, nose in the air. ‘I’m the Alpha now.’

Derek sniggered and let her go, enjoying his leftovers while he listened to her rouse the threesome. There was a lot of complaining, and he couldn’t really blame them. Their schedule had been hectic, even for wolves, and they were all tired and the house wasn’t exactly welcoming. Laura’s plans to come home and reclaim their territory now she was an Alpha in her own right had seen them finish the final leg of their international tour in New York, a quick catch up with their pack and then flying down to Sacramento and driving the three hours to Beacon Hills all in twenty-four hours. They had barely had time to stop in at the small coffee shop near the Sheriff's station before coming out to the house, which had been shut up for the past ten years. Peter had intended to join them, but had been delayed in New York. As their manager, he was the one who took care of all the dealings with their record company. If it was left to him and Laura, they probably would have eaten every executive by now. He was worth every penny they paid him, even if the meeting had probably been manufactured as a way to get out of cleaning up the house.

Stiles pulled up at the cemetery, parking the Jeep behind the old truck that had parked off centre and across two spaces. Grinning, he got out and made his way through the iron gates, remembering Isaac Lahey, who’d been a couple of years above him at school. His father had been the groundskeeper before there had been an incident at their house and Coach Lahey had been found dead. He remembered Isaac being taken in by social services and a whole sordid story of child abuse and alcoholicism coming out. Isaac had stayed off school for a week and then simply vanished off the face of the earth. There had been a lot of theories as to where he’d gone, but the truth was he wasn’t the first person to do that in 2011.

Stiles got lost in thought as he meandered between the headstones, finally coming to a stop in front of one made of white marble and embossed with angels.

‘That’s new.’ he remarked. ‘Not sure about the daffodils.’

‘They’re so gaudy.’ The dark haired woman kneeling at the grave grinned over her shoulder at him, her eyes the same warm whiskey brown as her son’s. ‘I’m glad to see you made it out of bed. I was starting to think you’d spend the whole weekend hibernating.’

‘Funny.’ Stiles helped Claudia up and gave her a long hug. When she let him go, she stepped back and looked him up and down.

‘You look good.’ she said. ‘Dare I say, professional.’

‘Mom.’ Stiles settled his hands on her shoulders. ‘Dad said you saw the Hales yesterday.’

‘Oh.’ Claudia’s look of faux innocence was belied by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. ‘Is that why you came to see me. No ‘I’ve missed you terribly Mother’, but ‘You saw the fucking Hales’.’

‘Mom.’ Stiles narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Did you see him?’

‘Who?’ Claudia crinkled her nose in amusement. ‘The boy you’ve been literally pining for, for almost a decade?’

‘I’m sure he’s not a boy anymore.’ Stiles snorted. ‘And yes. Stop playing dumb.’

‘I might have.’ Claudia tilted her head. ‘What’s it worth?’

‘A double chocolate muffin and all the lattes you can drink.’ Stiles replied and she cackled and linked her arm through his.

‘Done.’ she declared. ‘And you’re right. He’s definitely not a boy anymore.’

Derek leaned heavily on the cart, eyelids at half mast and his senses muted. The store was fairly empty, the early hour on a Saturday meaning that most shoppers were yet to make an appearance. Next to him Boyd yawned and shifted on his feet, hands sunk deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.

They’d been best friends a long time, playing basketball and baseball and getting into shit when they were teenagers and when things had turned bad and they’d had to leave, Boyd had been dogged in his refusal to cut ties and turned up at the pack house in New York a week after graduation with Erica in tow. They had walked right in and asked Talia for the bite and she’d given it gladly. Derek knew she was going to do it for Erica even before they had had to flee their territory and they’d settled in like they’d always been pack. Isaac had, of course, already joined them earlier and his delight at having them back had turned into a deep and abiding love that saw them forming their triad and becoming mates.

Erica was leaning on Isaac, her blond curls dragged into a messy ponytail and Cora was trailing Laura a few feet ahead. It always grated that she had inherited their mother’s early rising nature while the rest of them would have happily slept in and threw her weight around to get them out of bed when they most definitely didn’t want to. Even the fact that Derek was her twin didn’t let him get out of doing what she wanted.

‘Toilet paper.’ Laura turned and they all tried to avoid her eyes. ‘Derek. Take Boyd and grab some.’

‘But I’m minding the cart,’ he whined, clinging to it like a drowning man to a life preserver.

‘Go!’ Laura’s eyes flared red for just a second and Derek had to resist the urge to snarl back at her like he’d always used to. The whole alpha thing was new, the result of an overambitious alpha that had come into their territory planning to challenge Talia and ending up facing her daughter instead when they tried to take Cora with the intention of forcibly mating her and claiming rights. Talia had always taught them to solve their problems with diplomacy but Laura was headstrong and fiercely protective of her siblings, ever since Kate Argent had tried to use her to get close enough to kill them all. She’d almost succeeded too, that night of the party to celebrate the basketball teams’ victory for nationals providing the perfect distraction for them to be off their guard. Kate had struck in the early hours of the morning and she’d had them trapped, the beginnings of an arson that would have killed them all if Derek hadn’t come back and caught her. He’d ripped her throat out with his teeth, calling Deaton in a panic to come and break the circle of mountain ash that kept them trapped and they’d all watched their family home burn until the police and emergency services had arrived.

Talia had decided that it was too dangerous to stay, knowing the Argents would come for Derek, getting them all packed in a matter of twenty-four hours and away from what was left of their home. They’d gone to their father’s pack in New York State, leaving no sign of them behind. It was the way with wolves, always having a back-up in case something went wrong. The Argents were a large and powerful hunting clan and there would be retribution for the death of Gerard’s golden child, but when they came for the Hales they would find the place empty. Deaton stayed, both to protect the territory and report back to Talia about hunters coming in and not a month after it had happened, they had come. Thankfully the wards on the Hale land had kept the territory claim in place and the hunters had left with no satisfaction.

The rest had been a long and bloody fight between their respective Councils. Gerard had wanted Derek’s head for killing Kate and Talia had countered with the evidence that Kate had planned to kill a pack of law-abiding wolves along with their children. The matter had finally been settled when Gerard died of cancer and his granddaughter, by all accounts a level headed and honourable young woman about the same age as Derek, had taken over.

The music had started as a way to keep them all sane while this was happening, Talia more or less forcing them into music therapy as a way to deal with what had happened. It had been a bit of a shock to realise they were actually very good at it and they’d formed the band. Some minor success saw them moving steadily up the indie charts until it became their lives. Laura had named them Hale Pack 2.0 and Talia had laughed so hard when they’d told her that she’d shifted and clawed right through the cushion she was holding, feathers flying around them like a small snowstorm.

Derek hadn’t minded at first. The music was what he loved, the fame and money secondary. The Hales were already rich, but Peter had jumped at the chance to do something different and he drove their commercial success. They were in that comfortable zone of being middle of the road, not so successful enough that they were household names but it became hard in New York to go anywhere without being recognised.

Derek didn’t enjoy that part much. He was solitary and quietly sarcastic by nature, but unfortunately that just seemed to translate into brooding and mysterious in interviews and so he was plagued by a long line of would-be groupies that tagged along after him like a cloud of midges. Laura found it hilarious and basked in her own popularity. As an out lesbian, she had her choice of pretty girls to shack up with. Cora kept her asexuality to herself, just as surly as Derek was. The other three were not exactly open about their polyamorous arrangegment, but they didn’t hide it either. They were lucky, having found each other and being able to keep each other.

He often thought about that night, the one where the reason he’d been able to save his family was because he’d been in the back seat of his father’s illicitly borrowed Camaro with the boy he’d loved pretty much forever and indulging in a bit of mutual deflowering. Then he’d had to pack up and leave said boy without even saying goodbye or telling him where he was going. It had hurt more than he’d thought possible and if part of why Derek was so keen to come back to Beacon Hills was to try and track down that boy, then who was to know. The only people who knew what he’d been up to were Boyd (because Derek told him everything) and Laura (because she’d sat on him and tickled him until he’d confessed and then had to hold her while she cried, guilt and shame coming off her in waves). Derek hadn’t had the heart to complain when their very survival had been at stake because he’d killed Kate Argent, no matter whose fault it had been. Talia had said to make a clean break with the town and while she’d made allowances for their friends who were already in the know, that was as far as she was willing to push her luck.

Derek and Laura had finished out their schooling at home, Cora had gone to boarding school in South America with her Argentinian grandmother’s pack and the twins were still too young to be a problem so that was, as they said, that. Then had come college, followed by the band and the success and the travelling and before Derek knew it, it had been almost ten years and he was twenty-eight and still hung up on Stiles fucking Stilinski.

‘Hey.’ Boyd bumped him with his shoulder. ‘You alive in there?’

‘Not really.’ Derek surveyed the toilet paper and grabbed a couple of twenty-four packs. ‘Just thinking.’

‘Yeah.’ Boyd grinned, lighting up his usually serious face. ‘I can guess what about too.’

‘Not a goddamned word.’ Derek growled and then froze, his nose twitching madly.

It wasn’t exactly the same, a little deeper and a little thicker but he’d recognise that scent anywhere with his nose stuffed up and people throwing peppermint oil in his face. He shoved the toilet paper at Boyd and charged through the aisle, needing to find the source and skidding to a halt in the aisle with the candy and stared at the Sheriff, who looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. In fact, as it was he had cookies in his hands which he quickly put back.

‘Derek?’ He looked pleasantly surprised. ‘Claudia said she’d seen you.’ He came over and Derek couldn’t help taking in a deep breath. The scent of Stiles was all over the Sheriff and it made his heart start thumping like a drum.

‘Sheriff Stilinski.’ He took the offered hand and shook it, gleeful when he could smell a little bit of Stiles on his own skin. ‘Yeah, we’re back. Laura said she was going to stop by and talk to you about the house. She’s actually around here somewhere.’ He couldn’t stop smiling. ‘I’m glad you’re still here.’

‘Where else would we be?’ The Sheriff raised an eyebrow at him. ‘To be honest, we never thought you’d come back. Any of you. The last we heard, you mom and dad had skipped town and taken you all with them after the fire and then five years later, you and your sisters pop up playing gigs in New York with the Lahey kid, Vernon Boyd’s son and Erica Reyes and since you hit the big times, you’ve been entirely responsible for provisioning this town with 90% of its salacious gossip.’

‘How did you know that? I mean, New York.’ Derek was completely bemused. They had started out small, playing tiny venues, still wary of being recognised. It had only been in the last couple of years that they’d made it big enough to be known internationally.

‘I kept track.’ The Sheriff replied. ‘The fact that you all pretty much disappeared overnight hit this town like a slap in the face. I called in a lot of favours.’ There was something in his voice though that had Derek frowning. ‘I had my reasons, son.’

Derek was about to ask him what those were exactly when Laura came barreling down the aisle.

‘There you are.’ She came up short when she saw who he was talking to. ‘Sheriff Stilinski?’

‘The one and only.’ The Sheriff tipped an invisible hat at her. ‘It’s good to see you, Laura. Derek and I were just catching up.’

‘Well, I have to steal him. Excuse us.’ Laura gave him a toothy grin that was not her usual smile and Derek wondered just what was happening. She caught his arm and practically dragged him away.

‘What the hell?’ he protested, trying to wriggle out of her iron grip.

‘Hunters.’ she hissed and Derek’s blood ran cold.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked and she nodded, her face grim.

‘The others are doing the check out.’ she said. ‘We need to go.’

Stiles parked on the kerb and got out. Claudia already had the front door open and was looking down the street.

‘Visitor.’ she announced and went inside, leaving him to stand and wait for the car to stop. He bounced in excitement, barely waiting for the driver to get out before grabbing her and squeezing her hard enough to make her squeak.

‘Lydia, my strawberry blonde goddess.’ He kissed her cheek soundly. ‘I was wondering when you’d show up.’

‘Stiles.’ Lydia had softened since high school, growing into her intellect and losing the hard veneer of extreme fashion that had been her armour in high school. She was still elegant, but the tan leather boots she wore under her long floral skirt were flat and her face was less determinedly made up, her hair a mass of loose fronds that framed her face. She was also as beautiful as she had always been but Stiles loved her for more than that. They had grown close in junior year when Jackson had moved to the UK and she’d been left bereft. Scott had been dating Kira that year and he’d had little time for Stiles so they’d drifted together and never really drifted apart, in spite of their physical distance. Now Scott and Kira were engaged, with Scott working for Deaton full time and Kira teaching martial arts with their first baby on the way and Stiles felt even more like he was lagging behind. Lydia kept him tied to Beacon Hills as much as his parents did.

‘So what are you doing here?’ He escorted her to the house. Lydia went in first, saying hello to Claudia as they went into the kitchen.

‘I have some news you might want to hear.’ she said, her eyes dancing.

‘’If it’s that the Hales are back, I already know.’ Stiles was smug when she pouted. He so seldom got one over on her so it was fun when he did.

‘Sorry.’ Claudia grinned at Lydia. ‘That was my fault.’

‘Dammit.’ Lydia folded her arms. ‘Well that may be, but I bet you don’t know that they’re going to be playing the Jungle tonight.’

‘No, that I did not know.’ Stiles was immediately hooked. He’d always wanted to go watch them, ever since they’d first popped back up on his radar after years of radio silence, courtesy of a discarded music magazine in the field office. He’d fantasised about meeting Derek’s eyes across a crowded venue but he knew that in reality, Derek probably didn’t even remember the boy he fucked in the back of his sister’s car and probably also had his pick of beautiful people to spend his time with. It hadn’t stopped him from following the band’s progress almost obsessively though.

He’d been distraught when Derek had gone, trying to find any trace of him online, but there had been nothing at all in the years just after the fire. Noah had been cagey about what he’d known and Stiles had been at a loose end, trying to fill in the gaps. When he’d rediscovered them, Stiles had followed them on every form of social media he could and tracked down every article about them. Derek still didn’t have any online presence apart from that and the music videos his band put out. Stiles had jealously hoarded every single tiny piece of information and downloaded every picture and video of him, seeing how handsome Derek had become, growing into himself in a way Stiles envied. He’d jerked off many a night, watching the stylised black and white videos that the Hale Pack 2.0 preferred. Derek was always dressed in black jeans and tight white t-shirts, the sleeves of his trademark leather jacket pushed up to his elbows and his broad hands drawing Stiles’ gaze in as he played his guitar, all precision and power that had Stiles breath coming short at the thought of them on him.

‘Danny told me this morning. He’s practically beside himself at getting them on his books at such short notice.’ Lydia smirked, knowing she had his full attention. Danny had made a ton of money in apps and bought his old stomping ground. It had had a makeover and was now a very stylish LGBTQ+ venue that he ruled along with Jackson as his partner in business and life, once he’d had his gay crisis while he was gone. Stiles knew from the Hales’ publicity that Laura was a lesbian and he was pretty sure Isaac, Erica and Boyd were involved in something that looked pretty polyamorous but Derek and Cora were notoriously private and there was never any suggestion as to who they might be seeing. It seemed the kind of place they would be playing.

‘Okay.’ He moved to the coffee maker, preparing for a long sit down. ‘Tell me everything.’

TBC on AO3!

#tabbytabbytabby #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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withcolebrock · 4 years

Text

Night Changes-Father’s Day

Summary: It’s Colby’s first father’s day as a father.

Night Changes Masterlist

Warnings: none? maybe swearing I don’t remember

Word Count: 1,926

Author’s Note: hi I think this is very cute hehe, I hope you guys like it!! The quality of the gif is so bad ahhhhh. Anyway this idea was given to my by my friend @curlyhairedbrock so thank you so much for messing with my feels with this idea 🥺This is my Gif!!

For the past seven months it had been the craziest and hardest time of their lives. They have been surviving on a maximum five hours of sleep per night. Colby and Y/N also have described it as the best months of their lives. Ever since they brought their little girl home, their life has never been the same.

Many relationships tend to struggle after having kids, but Y/N and Colby’s relationship had blossomed. They ended up getting closer, if that was even possible. During the past seven months, they also had a lot of help from their families and friends. Especially Sam and Katrina, they were over almost everyday just to see the baby.

Y/N climbed out of bed at the sudden sound of the crying baby on the monitor. She took a hold of the monitor, to try her best not to wake Colby. She turned off the sound quickly, she turned her head quickly taking a glance towards Colby. He laid on the bed with the comforter pulled under his chin as his head was squished into the pillow. She smiled softly to herself while opening the door quietly while she headed towards the nursery a few doors down. Taking in a long breath, she pushes the door open slowly.

“Good morning, Renni,” she spoke softly as she entered the room, Serenity still sitting up crying. “Oh, Love it’s okay,” she continued as she walked towards the crib. Y/N reached into the crib and picked the little girl. She cradled her in her arms and began rocking her softly. Serenity sobs slowly eased. Y/N walked towards the changing table and delicately laid her onto the top of it. She spent a few minutes changing her diaper and getting her dressed up for the day.

Y/N took a hold of the onesie with the words, ‘Daddy’s Little Girl,’ and smiled as she began putting it on her daughter. Today was Colby’s first official Father’s Day and Y/N wanted to spend the day making Colby feel special and making the whole day about him and Serenity. “Oh, Renni, look how beautiful,” she spoke softly as she lifted her daughter up from the changing table.

“Now, let’s make breakfast for daddy, yeah?” she bounced her softly in her arms as they exited the nursery. Serenity giggled softly as they began walking down towards the main living area. As they entered the kitchen, she put Serenity into a baby bouncer. She smiled towards her daughter as she walked towards the fridge taking out eggs, bacon, and pancake mix. She laid out all of the ingredients on the counter getting ready to prepare everything.

She began first by pouring oil into a pan and then she continued to lay a few pieces of bacon slowly onto the pan. She continued with the other pan with the scrambled eggs.

She continued to cook for fifteen minutes as she sang along to different songs, “I wanna stay up all night, and jump around until we see the sun…” she danced around as she laid out scrambled eggs onto the two plates. Serenity giggled as she played with the toys surrounding her in the bouncer and watched her mother.

The sound of footsteps coming from the hall shifted her attention away from the food. Colby walked out of the hall while rubbing his eye. She sighed, “Colby, you aren’t supposed to be awake yet,” she whined, flipping a pancake. He chuckled as he ran his fingers through his messy purple hair. He began walking towards Serenity sitting in the bouncer.

“Hi,” his voice went high as he lifted her up from the bouncer, “I know when my girls are awake,” he spoke as he poked Serenity on her belly looking at the onesie she was wearing. “Look at that, so cute,” he breathed while kissing her on the head. She giggled as she wrapped her little arm onto Colby’s chest. He took a hold of her hand. “And your food smells delicious,” he smiled as he leaned behind her. Turning around she beams up towards him. He gives her a quick peck on the lips as he walks around towards the kitchen barstool.

“Thanks, Baby. It’s almost done, just have to finish the pancakes,” she pressed her lips together as she poured the last of the pancake batter onto the pan. Glancing, she watches Colby lift up Serenity’s little fingers and play with them. She smiled to herself as she focused on the food. She finished the last pancake and turned off the stove, she placed a few pancakes on the two plates she pulled out. “Colbs, can you put her in her chair? I have to grab her food,”

He hummed as he stood up slowly, cradling the little girl. “I know, Renni, what you're about to eat is disgusting,” he explained, his tone higher than normal. Y/N rolled her eyes as she pulled out the premade mashed bananas. “Oh wait,” he spoke dramatically as he began buckling her in, “It’s bananas, that’s way better than the other gunk you ate yesterday.” he took the bib sitting on the tray and delicately wrapped it around her neck.

She placed the bowl beside her plate, next to Serenity’s high chair. Colby took the plates from the counter and carried them towards the dining table. “She liked it,” Y/N smirked as she sat beside Colby and Serenity. He chuckled while rolling his eyes, looking down towards Y/N. Her lips curled upwards softly as she admired his bright blue eyes. “Happy father’s day, my love,” she whispered. A wide smile grew to his features as his cheeks began to blush. She raised her hand to his cheek and pulled his head towards her. She pressed her lips against his softly before pulling away.

“Thank you,” he pursed his lips forward as he looked away briefly. She lifted up the spoon with a small amount of the bananas and brought it to Serenity’s lips. She ate it quickly. Colby and Y/N let out soft giggles as they watch their little girl eat. “It’s my first father’s day as a dad, how cool is that,” he smiled to himself as he watched his daughter continue to eat.

She rested her head onto his shoulder, “How does it feel, Bubby?”

“Weird, I can’t describe it,” he chuckled.

~~~

Colby leaned his body against the couch as he let out a dramatic sigh. Y/N walked back into the living room without Serenity as she sat down next to Colby. “Why did we have to put her down, it’s father’s day and I should be able to cuddle my daughter whenever I want to,”

“You know she needs to nap, Babe,” she sighed as she closed her eyes.

“She could nap right here,” he said, hitting his chest lightly. She opened her eyes briefly looking over to see him still pointing to his chest. She giggled, shutting her eyes again. He took in a long breath as he stood up from the couch. “I’m grabbing her,” he shrugged his shoulders while he started walking towards the nursery.

“No, Colby, she-” she tried to speak up but he was already down the hall. She covered her face in her hands as she choked out a laugh. She rubbed her eyes a few times before pulling her hands away from her face. She laid with her eyes closed, waiting for Colby to come back.

As he entered the nursery, Serenity laid still staring towards the ceiling blinking slower and slower. “Hi, Renni,” he whispered as he reached into the crib, delicately picking her up. “How’s my baby girl?” he cradled her in his arms as he slowly walked towards the rocking chair. He sat down slowly as he began rocking back and forth, while looking down over her little features. “Tired?” he asked as he watched her yawn.

He let out a soft laugh as his eyes scanned his little girl. “You know today is a pretty special day for me,” he spoke softly, his voice rasped as he spoke. “Well, for you too,” he chuckled, “You are the reason it’s special to me, you made this day special. Your mommy wanted to have this whole party thing with all of your aunts and uncles, but I told her this was more than enough. Just some time with you and your mommy, was all I needed,” he leaned his head against the back of the rocking chair, shutting his eyes.

~~~

She lifted her head up from the couch, rubbing her eyes softly. She picked up her phone checking the time, noticing it had been a few hours later. She rubbed her eyes a few more times before she stood up from the couch. Her eyes wandered the living room area searching for Colby. She began walking towards their bedroom when she stopped suddenly. Through the cracks of the door she sees Colby asleep with Serenity.

Quickly, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. She may post a few later, but she wanted a few keepsakes. She slowly pushed the door open, soft creaks echo pulling Colby from his sleep. He squints harshly before opening his eyes slowly. Y/N meets his sleepy gaze from across the room. “Hey,” his voice was hoarse as he lifted his free hand and wiped his eye.

She took little steps towards Colby and the rocking chair. “Comfy?” she questioned as she stood beside him. He tilted his head towards her and nodded with a small smile to his lips. She moves her hand across his upperback slowly and rests it onto his shoulder. She leans down looking over her sleeping daughter. “She’s been sleeping long?” she asked as she ran her fingers along his shoulder.

“Yeah, she was out as soon as we got in the chair,” he chuckled, “How long were we asleep?” he asked, wiping his hand over his face.

“A couple hours,” she breathed, leaning down pressing her lips to his cheek before walking in front of the rocking chair. She leaned down and glanced towards Colby before taking a hold of their little girl. He delicately handed her towards Y/N, and stood up from the rocking chair. Serenity started to fidget in Y/N’s arms and began to wail in tears. “I know honey, I’m sorry,” she rocked her slowly as she carried her over to the changing table.

Colby leaned his body against the wall as he watched his wife. “Serenity, you can go back to Daddy in a minute,” she sighed as she continued to change her diaper, Colby bows his head letting out a breathy laugh. A few minutes go by as Serenity continues to cry, Y/N trying her best to calm her while changing the diaper. Once the onesie was completely put on she lifted the crying little girl up and cradled her. “Bub,” she whispered as she walked closer to Colby.

Colby smiled widely as he gladly reached over for his daughter, as soon as she was in Colby’s arms her cries softened. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she laughed. Colby joined in as he ran his hand up and down Serenity’s back, “Daddy’s Girl, I guess,” Y/N sighed as she leaned up towards Colby, he smiled as he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers gently.

“As she should be,” he winked as he leaned down and pressed his lips against Y/N’s lips again.

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hrtiu · 4 years

Text

My contribution to day one of Rexsoka week. It’s a little bit of a bummer given the prompt is ‘hope,’ but I like where it ends up!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703133

Ahsoka had been in love with Rex for about a year when she told him to leave her on some desolate Outer-Rim skug hole of a planet.

A year earlier the epiphany had been like punching a hole in a piece of flimsi—easy and weightless but completely irrevocable. He’d come back to Coruscant to speak at Dogma’s court-martial and to give his report on the Umbara debacle, and she’d been so relieved—so overjoyed—to finally see him healthy and sound that it just clicked.

She didn’t say anything, of course. Even if he reciprocated her feelings, there wasn’t really any way either of them could act on them, and she didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak. She also didn’t feel ready for those kinds of feelings, and doubted Rex was either. Rex was both a grown man and a being who had only experienced twelve years of life—all of them spent as a soldier preparing to sacrifice himself for the Republic. And as many adult situations in which she’d found herself and as much as she liked to think otherwise, curled up in the dark of her room at night Ahsoka was forced to admit to herself that she was still a child in many ways.

Thinking about it as little as possible was Ahsoka’s best defense, and she channeled all her affection for Rex into a fierce loyalty to him and all the clones of the 501st and an unshakable determination to win the war. Maybe after the war… she found herself thinking in her weaker moments. After the war what? She’d become a knight, and his legal status would be uncertain. There was no future.

Things didn’t change much after she left the Order. In theory she was no longer bound by the Code and could seek out personal relationships if she wanted to, but she couldn’t just switch off her entire way of being so easily. She also had no way of knowing if she’d ever see Rex again. She was unlikely to be allowed back into the GAR, and he wouldn’t be able to go looking for her even if he wanted to. She put her head down and tried to move forward with her life, but when her teenage mind decided to take off on flights of romantic fancy, her partner always had brown-golden eyes, stern posture, and light hair that contrasted against his dark skin.

When Ahsoka finally reunited with him for the Siege of Mandalore, she felt the stirrings of hope for the first time. Nothing about Rex was soft, but somehow the modest smile he gave her when introducing her to the 332nd was heart-breakingly tender. She’d worried somewhere in the back of her mind that Rex would have moved on, would not have carried their friendship with him like she had. But she’d returned to find the same disciplined, loyal, brave, true man she’d come to consider her dearest friend.

How quickly things change, Ahsoka thought as she watched the reddish sunlight of the dwarf sun filter through the tiny, rank room she and Rex had rented for the night. The Venator had crashed on some unnamed moon six months earlier, and they’d been on the run ever since. Ahsoka turned her head towards her fellow fugitive, asleep on his own narrow bed across the room from her, and she wondered how he always managed to coax his brain to unconsciousness no matter where he lay his head. Ahsoka hadn’t slept well in months.

In some ways she felt closer to Rex than ever. There was a heavy burden of sadness they shared between the two of them, dragging it from system to system as they tried to erase their tracks, and it tied them together like two prisoners on a chain gang. In other ways she’d never felt more distant from him, not even after she’d left the Order and didn’t know if he was dead or alive.

I did this, the familiar voice of guilt played in Ahsoka’s head. I took everything from him.

She’d replayed her escape from Order 66 over and over again in her mind, trying to understand where she’d gone wrong, what she could have done differently to save all those men. Try as she might, she didn’t see any way out without either giving herself up, which she could not accept, or letting Rex go, which she would not abide. But she must be wrong. There must have been some other way, there must have been something.

Rex stirred in his sleep, and Ahsoka watched the broad planes of his back expand and retract with each breath. It was exactly the same back as his brothers, the ones she’d let die. Did he wish that he’d died with them? Did he wish she’d left him in blissful, brainwashed ignorance? Did he… did he wish she’d just let herself go down?

The sunlight fully peaked through their window and Rex’s restless movements turned to a real awakening. He opened his eyes and greeted the day with a groan, then rolled out of bed and got dressed with typical clone efficiency.

It was still strange to see Rex in civilian clothes—almost like that time she’d seen a holo of Obi-Wan in Mandalorian armor. The faded trousers and stained tunic never seemed to fit him quite right.

“Well, it’s a new day, Commander,” Rex said, and Ahsoka winced. He still always called her that, and she hated the title more with each passing day.

“Not much different from the last few,” Ahsoka said.

“We’ve been here too long. That patrol yesterday was too close a call—we need to move on.”

Ahsoka had to agree, though it pained her to admit it. She was getting so tired of running. She nodded her head wearily.

“So? Where to?” Rex said.

Ahsoka studied Rex for a long moment, then looked within herself and realized that today she finally had the strength to say what she’d been thinking had to be said for a long while.

“You need to check out the tip we got about Wolffe,” she said evenly.

Rex’s brow furrowed and he rubbed at his eyes, as if Ahsoka’s words could be chalked up to his drowsy state. “He’s supposed to be on Kamino. We can’t go to a planet full of chipped clones.”

“I can’t,” Ahsoka said pointedly.

Rex narrowed his eyes at Ahsoka. “What are you suggesting, Commander.”

Ahsoka sat up in bed and gathered her scratchy blankets around her. “He somehow managed to get a message to us that he wants out—you can’t ignore that.”

“We can’t ignore that, I agree.”

“He’s going to be on Kamino for the foreseeable future, and if I go there I’ll only hold you back.”

“Ahsoka-”

“I’m not going to take you away from your brothers again, Rex.”

Rex’s stern brow twitched and he pursed his lips. A long, weighty moment passed between them, then Rex spoke. “I won’t abandon you.”

“It’s not abandoning if I’m asking you to go,” Ahsoka said.

A look of deep hurt flitted past Rex’s face. “You’re ordering me away?”

“No!” Ahsoka said, getting to her feet. “That’s exactly the pro-” she cut herself off and sighed, taking a moment to collect herself. “Before, on the Venator. I made the decision for you.”

“No you didn’t. I all but asked you to take the chip out.”

“Maybe, but I put you in a position where you had to choose between me and your brothers and… it really wasn’t much of a choice.”

Rex huffed in frustration and threw his hands in the air. “Look, I don’t blame you-”

“Don’t you?”

The question lingered in the air between them, and Rex looked away. “No, I don’t,” he said. His voice was firm, but Ahsoka could see the doubt in his eyes.

And that was the crux of it. This awful tragedy hung between them, and would always be there unless they could find a way past it. If Rex was always stuck with her, always following her orders and watching her back, she knew their connection would remain poisoned by guilt and unbidden resentment. He needed to forge his own path, to find his independence. Then, maybe… Maybe many years in the future…

Ahsoka walked up to Rex and put a hand on his cheek, turning his head gently to face her. “I’m done issuing commands. Stay with me if you want. But I’m going to pay for a few more nights here, and I’m going to sleep here tonight, and I hope that when I wake tomorrow morning you’ll be gone.”

Rex met her eyes for a few seconds, then his gaze fell to the floor. Ahsoka held her breath as she waited for him to come to his conclusions. He swallowed a tense knot in his throat, then nodded, all uncertainty gradually draining away.

Pain and relief flooded Ahsoka’s heart in equal measure, and she reached for Rex’s hand, daring more physical affection than she’d ever shown before. “Let’s go out to the market,” she said, giving his fingers a squeeze. “It’s a nice day.”

Rex squeezed her hand in return before letting go, and together they left the seedy hotel for the marketplace in the center of town.

It truly was a nice day—the first pleasant, relaxed, uncomplicated day either of them had experienced in years. They ate a breakfast of hot caf and fried nuna eggs in a tiny cafe and watched the sun gradually bathe the dusty town in reddish light. They went to the open air plaza and dug through piles of the vendors’ wares until they found a newish, non-stained shirt for Rex. Rex picked out several blumfruits from the fruit stand, insisting that Bariss had once taught him a foolproof method for picking the ripest and sweetest, and as Ahsoka ate the red fruit she had to admit it was the tastiest she’d ever had. As night fell the daytime vendors closed up shop and other folks came out, some setting up games and other minor pieces of entertainment for the modest crowd. Ahsoka won Rex a small stuffed convor with a perfect game of ring toss, and though Rex complained that using the Force was cheating, he kept the plush. They ate dinner back at the hotel, whose food was actually somewhat passable despite the rundown building, then went to bed feeling restored.

Ahsoka pulled the covers up to her chin, her bones still steeped in the unfamiliar happiness of the day. She hadn’t felt this close to Rex since the crash, hadn’t enjoyed anything with Rex since then. She knew she’d made the right decision, as much as it would hurt to wake up alone the next day.

“‘Soka?” Rex’s voice carried through the darkness across the small room.

Ahsoka turned towards him, just barely making out the familiar angles of his face through the dim light. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Ahsoka’s lips turned into a smile even as her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed. “You’d do the same for me, Rex. There’s no need for thanks.”

“All the same…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“May the Force be with you, little’un.”

“May the Force be with you, Rex.”

---

The next day Ahsoka woke and looked across the room from her to find an empty bed. The dingy bed had been made to military precision, and Rex had left no other evidence behind. The tears Ahsoka had held back the night before would no longer cooperate, and she buried her face in her hands and cried.

She gave herself permission to cry for a good long while, and after an hour her tears were spent and her heart worn thin. Her sorrow had run out of her along with her tears, and all that was left was a stubborn, insistent sort of hope. Ahsoka closed her eyes and imagined Rex going to Kamino, somehow sneaking into the base and finding Wolffe. She imagined the two of them figuring out how to remove Wolffe’s chip, then going on a crusade to free more of their brothers. She imagined Rex becoming more and more the person he was meant to be, the person his servitude to the Republic held back. And at the end of it all, that foolish, optimistic hope imagined him returning home to her.

#rexsoka #rexsokaweek #fanfic

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reinosaurs · 4 years

Text

Beside You (A Koitsudu Fanfic)

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Characters: Nanase Sakura, Kairi Tendo, Mariko, Sakai

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN KOITSUDU but this fanfic was entirely made by me :)

Note: More fluff? I'll give you a bucket of it! (~￣³￣)~

•••🌸•••🌸•••🌸•••🌸•••

Nanase slowly opened her eyes and the white ceiling greeted her. The morning sun was spilling out of the window, giving a gentle and calm atmosphere inside the room.

It has been a week since the accident. And it was only yesterday when she transferred to a private room - as Tendo-sensei suggested. At first, she was against it, but in her condition, she cannot really complain. Tendo-sensei had surgeries and meetings, but he always spent his free time watching over her no matter how short the time is.

"I like you. I love you."

Her face turned red as a tomato.

Every morning when she wakes up, Tendo-sensei's confession rang inside her head like an alarm.

She cuddled the comforter tighter to her body.

She really hadn't expected anything. His confession made things seemed brighter and sweet. When she heard him cry for the first time, she was in pure awe and shock, but then all she wanted to do that time was to hug him, wipe his tears away and tell him that everything is okay.

That tender eyes when he looked back to her, all red and brimming with tears, that gentle voice and gentle presence... she couldn't wish for more. She felt sorry for making him worry, for making him cry. But it really made her happy to know that someone cared for her. That, this stoic and uptight man, had let go of his composure just to show how he cared for someone like her.

Warmth filled her chest. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself. Tendo-sensei... loves me..

Unbelivable. That maho..

She giggled against the comforter. I wanted to shout it to the whole world! That, I, yuusha, Nanase Sakura, had won Doctor Demon's heart!

Suddenly, her stomach grumbled.

Oh.

As if almost instantly, the door opened and two familiar nurses came with each trays of food in hand.

"Sakura-chan, good morning!"

She smiled. "Good morning, Mariko-san, Sakai-san."

Mariko set the food tray on the small table near the couch and took Nanase's hand. "How are you feeling, yuusha?"

She beamed at her. "Getting better and better each day!"

Sakai moved and sat gently beside her. "That's good to hear. But always remember what the doctors said, okay?"

She slightly nodded. "Yes, I will!"

The head nurse pat her leg. "Now, eat so you could heal faster."

Though she felt better than before, the doctors adviced her to be cautious on her wound which is on the back of her head. If the wound will reopen, it will cause her so much pain and trouble.

A three-day coma was enough. She doesn't want to go through that anymore.

The time passed, Nishi and Ryuko visited her at noon. While Numazu and the other nurses have checked on her late in the afternoon.

She sighed and smiled at the setting sun. Everyone was doing well. Soon, she will be at her quarters with them.

Nanase curled up to the bed and let out a yawn. Her head feels heavy so suddenly again and she knows what she should do to ease it. Sleep.

Early that evening...

Nanase woke up to the sound of the door being opened. When she fluttered her eyes open, she saw Tendo-sensei's tired but gentle smile.

Oh my..

"Good evening." He said gently. He was on his usual clothes.

This instantly brought a smile to her face. "Good evening, sensei. Aren't you going home yet?"

He slightly smiled and walked towards the small table. He came back with a food tray and she almost drool on the sight of it.

A plateful of pork and vegetable gyoza, a bowl of sake-poached chicken with soba noodles and sushi.

She slowly propped her body up with Tendo's help, gently supporting her head.

Nanase stared at the tray. "Sensei, I don't think I can consume these..."

They looked so delicious though!

Tendo chuckled. "Baka, you would not eat them alone." He removed his coat and placed it on he couch. Climbing up to her large bed, he sat in front of her. The small side table was in between them.

He grabbed the chopstick from the side and picked a piece of sushi. Tendo slowly lifted it up, with his other hand supporting the food and placed it on Nanase's opened mouth.

"Shenshei.."

"Don't talk while eating."

She carefully chewed the food and almost swoon at the taste. I knew it! Looking at it was delicious. But tasting it was heaven!

Tendo saw her reaction and a small smile formed on his lips. He picked another piece of sushi and ate it.

As the two of them ate in silence, Nanase caught a glimpse of Tendo's drooping eyes. She also noticed how he rotated his neck from side to side and the constant sigh he was releasing.

Mariko's voice rang through her head.

"Tendo-sesei, hadn't left your side since you rushed here. Even when you finally wake up, every now and then, he's visiting you, checking on you when you sleep. And I think, Tendo-sensei never went home since."

He was exhausted.

Tendo left for awhile to bring the empty plates back. When he came back to her room, he sat beside her and gently lay her down.

"Sleep. I'll watch over you." He said.

Tendo was about to grab a book from the chair when Nanase's hand stopped him.

"Sensei..."

Nanase took all the strenght she has and sat up. She gently tugged his hand and made him sit down on th bed again, facing her.

"Nanase---!" He was about to scold her for sitting up so suddenly but she cut him.

"Shhh, I'm okay." Slowly, she traced his eyelids. "I know you're tired."

Nanase brought her hand through his hair and slowly caressed it. Almost instantly, Tendo sighed, releasing all the stress and weight from his shoulders. He closed her eyes and focused on Nanase's gentle hands on his hair.

"Thank you for looking after me. But, please, you need to look after yourself too. I don't want you getting sick while I'm getting better."

She pat his shoulders gently. "You should go home. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Tendo opened his eyes and stared at her. This baka...

"You've been sleeping for three days straight, do you think I can leave you now that you're finally with me again?"

Nanase blinked at his words.

Tendo supported her head and lied down on the bed with her at the same time. He covered them with the warm comforter. Nanase was too surprised to say a word as she watched him caressing her cheeks.

"You don't have any idea how scared I am. Every second by your side, I wish for you to wake up. This weariness is nothing when I have you now." He gave her a sweet smile.

A sweet smile.

Nanase's eyes widen. "T-That smile..."

Still smilling, he asked. "Hmm?"

She lifted her hand and pointed her finger. "It's.. it's a very s-sweet smile."

Tendo chuckled at her reaction. He grabbed her hand that was pointed at him and placed a kiss on the back of it. "For Nanase Sakura's eyes only?" His smile widened.

Her smile widened as well. "Hell yeah!"

Tendo laughed and slowly cuddled her.

"Good night, sensei." She murmured against his chest.

Tendo closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head. "Good night."

A good night indeed.

"I love you, Nanase." He whispered on her ear.

#koi wa tsuzuku yo dokomademo #lovelastsforever #kairi tendo #sakura nanase #fluff #fanfic

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akinnie75 · 5 years

Text

Until Spring (1/2)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn, Romance, Angst, Fantasy

Word Count: 17k

Summary: Freesia Island has the greenest Summer, calmest Autumn, and purest Winter. But their Spring has so many flowers that the land itself becomes a rainbow. It’s a place that you’ve always wanted to travel to after hearing the tales of that island. And one day, you finally got to be there in person, but not being forced into an unwanted marriage by the king himself.

“Once upon a time, there were four gods who were in charge of watching over the four seasons of earth: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. One day, the God of Spring, was on earth when he fell in love with a flower name Freesia. Every day and night, they would see each other, sharing tales, singing, and laughing. Each second they spent was valuable because, deep down, they both knew that time was ticking—that Spring will have to leave once his time on Earth has ended.

“The day came to an end, and eventually the God of Summer came, but without mercy. The sun pierced Freesia, drying her of water. Then came the God of Autumn, deteriorating her once beautiful petals. Lastly, the God of Winter was the most cold-hearted of them all, making Freesia suffer in the freezing temperature.

“When Spring finally returned, he was heartbroken when he discovered that his beloved flower withered to the ruthlessness of the other three seasons. He cried, and cried, and cried. And once he was done, he stood up and wasted no time growing flowers again, in hopes that one day, Freesia would blossom and return.”

By the side of your futon, your mother sits on her knees. With you tucked into bed, your mother is astonished to discover you covered in tears.

Complementing your tears is the sound of cicadas crying. Since the humid summer is here, the house is victim to the moist air. To distract the six-year-old you from the humidity, your mother thought it was best to tell you a story.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

“That’s so sad! Did Spring ever find Freesia?” You ask with an expression that begs for a happy ending.

“No...the God of Spring is still looking for her.”

You look as if you’re about to release a lake’s worth of tears. To prevent that from doing so, your mother hurriedly thinks of anything to soothe you.

“B-but that’s why people of Freesia Island hold the Blossom Festival every first day of Spring! Everyone there feels the same way as you do, so they also want to help Spring find his loved one.”

“Has it worked?”

“I’m not sure, but with the help of thousands of people, I’m certain that they reunited.”

You sigh in relief, and your mother chuckles at your naivety.

“How do you know? Did you see them?”

“No...I’ve never been to Freesia Island, but your father has.”

“Really?!” You sit up from your bed, jumping up and down excitedly. “Is it true that the island changes color every season?”

Your mother nods. “Yup. Your father told me that Summer has fields of green. Autumn has the reddest leaves, and Winter covers the entire land with white snow.”

Your jaw drops, imagining what each season looks like with your limited imagination. Even without a clear picture, it excites you. Born and raised on a tropical island where every season is just hot, you don’t know how it feels like to experience four seasons. You thought that seasons didn’t exist.

“But your father said that the most beautiful season is Spring. There are so many different colors that you lose count of how many colors there are”

You grab your mother’s arm and shake it. “When I get older, let’s go to Freesia Island and help Freesia and Spring find each other again! Please??”

She chuckles. “Sure! Your father is good friends with King Kim, after all. One day, we’ll go, the three of us.”

You’re excited about the future. While thinking about all the things you and your parents are doing, you lay back down, staring at the ceiling made of dried palm tree leaves. In your innocent, little mind, you promise that you’ll be the one to reunite the two lovers. You close your eyes, falling asleep to the sound of the cicadas crying endlessly.

———

SPRING

At the top of a cliffside, you walk in your bare feet, holding a wooden bowl. Inside it is an array of fruits. Standing before you is a tombstone. After stepping closer, you get on your knees, letting the tips of your fingers stroke the name etched onto the stone, spelling your mother’s name.

Below the stone is an empty bowl with rotten fruits. There’s a trail of black ants taking pieces to their colony, and the smell is horrible since it’s been under the scorching sun all day. You brush the ants off, picking it up and replacing it with a new set of colorful fruits.

“Good morning, Mom. Did you sleep well?”

Unsurprisingly, there’s no response.

“These little pests keep taking your food away, huh? Either that or they’re taking it to you somewhere in the afterlife,” You change to a fetal position, your arms hugging your knees as you hold it close to your chest. “Did you know that they just celebrated my eighteenth birthday a few days ago? Dad ate so much roasted pork that he didn’t leave any for me!”

Despite passing away many years ago, you still vividly remember her smile. She was the most beautiful woman ever that you’ll never compare to her.

“I have to tell you what happened yesterday too! It was hilarious.”

You go on for hours, chatting with the stone about your day yesterday. Even though your voice drifted away into the vast jungle, you still spoke like there was another person listening. You strongly believed in a life after death, so you were certain that your mother heard every word.

Sitting next to the tombstone, your shoulder leans on it while you stare off the cliff. From a distance, you can see your small village, and on the side, there are squares of plantations. This is the place that you’ve known since the day you were born. Although it was your childhood dream to wander off the island, you can’t imagine a better place to live in than Pitaya Island.

“The village has changed a lot. Most of the villagers are old, so I have to be the one responsible for physical labor. It’s so tiring! Don’t tell Dad, but I think he’s getting old too..” You whisper.

You chuckle, but it doesn't last long.

“Granny still cries for you, you know? Every year, on your birthday. We all celebrate it…”

You pluck a single grass from the ground, peeling the slim plant in half.

“...But it doesn’t feel like we do. It’s more like...we’re mourning. Even Dad—the toughest man in the entire land—cries,” you turn your head at the stone, smiling. “I try not to cry. I’m going to become the next ruler of this land, right? I have to show the people what I’m made of.”

You lay down, not noticing that the ants have now claimed the fresh fruits. You drown yourself to the sound of birds humming melodies and bushes being brushed against the wind. With the blazing sun beaming, you put your hand over it, casting a shadow over your face.

Your throat is dry from all the talking, but you still want to say more. You knew your mother only for a few years, but you two had a close relationship. You told her everything, and it felt like she told you everything. Even now after she’s dead, she’s the one who you talk to the most.

“Hey...Mom...sometimes I wish you can respond to me. I know I said that before...but whenever I talk to you, I feel like I’m going insane. I think for once...I’d like to hear your voice one more time.”

You’re silent for a few seconds, not shocked that your wish won't come true. You scoff at your outrageous wish. It isn’t like a dead person can answer you.

That’s when you hear the sound of someone shouting. You sit up, staring at your mother’s grave, thinking that she came back to life. However, the scream was too far for it to be your mother. It was almost like an echo.

You stare straight at your village, discovering that the source of the shout came from there. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you see the villagers running about and shouting. Instantaneously, you knew that there was something happening. You’re quick to your feet, sprinting down the hill as fast as you can.

———

Once you make it back, you glide behind a tree, your back hitting against the trunk. You peer over to see what the commotion is. There’s a group of foreigners walking about, terrorizing the people. Children are crying and elderly women are screaming. The old men are shaking, unable to move from their spot. The village has become a wreck, with baskets of fruits and seeds tossed over and huts destroyed.

These foreigners with pale skin and dressed in linen clothes kick those who are crawling on their hands and knees, laughing at their pitiful state. You cover your mouth, petrified to see the sight before you. Just hours ago, your village was in peace, everyone going along their daily lives.

Your hands and knees are trembling, barely being able to stand properly. Your people are in harm’s way, but your cowardice is preventing you from saving them. You’re afraid to get into the crossfire. While no one has spotted you yet, you think it might be the perfect opportunity to escape.

However, your pride reignites when you see your father. The man that you admire the most, fighting against one of the enemies. He and his opponent exchange swings, sparks flying when the blades collide. You root for your father, praying that his massive strength will scare the man away.

But that hope drains in an instant when the man, being younger, swiffer, and stronger than your father, seizes him within seconds. He deflects your father’s swing, putting so much force that the sword goes flying out of his hands. He then kicks your father, making him fall to his knees. To see your father—the who your idol—on his knees in front of the enemy’s feet is an ultimate defeat.

His opponent stares down at your father, not an ounce of sympathy. Even from the distance where you’re at, you can see the hollowness in his eyes. It’s almost as if his eyes are entirely covered with black.

With the last of his pride, your father snarls at the man. There’s an emblem on his shirt, one that you don’t recognize but one he knows too well.

“You…do not deserve to wear the emblem of Freesia.” Your father mutters in anguish.

He growls at the young man, and still, no reaction. It’s just those damp eyes of his, glaring down at him. To end his misery, the man raises his sword, prepared to end his life.

That’s when you couldn’t just stand there any longer. You don’t know where this surge of confidence came from, it might’ve been because you were afraid to lose another precious person, but what you do know is that you have to stop this.

You grab your father’s fallen sword, nearly losing your balance for clumsily picking it up. And just like that, you were successful in making your sword collide with the man’s weapon. You hit so hard that you made a crack in the blade. The man’s sword flies out of his hand, absolutely astonished with what just occurred in those few seconds. You give him a ferocious glare, standing right in between him and your father. Although cracked, you point the tip of the sword directly at his face.

Your sudden appearance makes time itself freeze. Everybody has their eyes on you, waiting for your next move. However, you don’t have another move. You impulsively came out of hiding after seeing your father in danger. You were willing to do anything to protect him, but now you’re stuck in a position where you can lose your life.

To your amazement, the man doesn’t make a second attempt to fight back. He gets into a casual posture, loosening his body and putting his hand to his hip. In contrast to his calm demeanor, your sword still points at his nose.

“I was unaware that the king had a daughter.” The man speaks, but to whom, you don’t know.

You raise an eyebrow, questioning why he would care.

“You’re not just any princess. You have the guts to get in between a fight between two men.” He says with a stoic expression.

“Wh-wh-who are you?!” You attempted but failed to hide your stutter. “L-leave this island at once.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing?! Leave while you still can.” Your father exclaims.

“So your name is (Y/N). A unique one that I’ve never heard of. I am King Jungkook from Freesia Island.”

Freesia…Island? It wasn’t registering immediately, but after giving it some time, your jaw drops at the revelation that this man is the ruler of Freesia. You thought that the people there are kind, including the king. What happened?

“King Jungkook? Where is the former king??” Your father shouts.

“King Kim? My father defeated him in a battle and won, pronounced as king for decades until his late passing, passing the responsibility to me.”

“King Kim…is dead…?” Your father asks in disbelief.

You have no clue what’s unfolding. There’s an untold story that your father kept from you, and you’re itching to know.

Jungkook grabs the blade with his hand. You tighten the grip to keep it raised, but with him wearing a leather glove and being stronger than you, he was able to pull it down in no time.

“You have the courage of a soldier, but there’s no real fierceness in your eyes,” he states. “I did not come here to fight.”

He raises his hands in the air to admit defeat.

“ I came here with the intention to negotiate. It was your people who started it.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if this is a trick or if he means it. Your father finally gets back on his feet, pulling you back to protect you.

“What is it that you want? Take it and leave my people alone.”

Jungkook looks around the village, only stopping when his eyes are locked on the plantations of pitaya plants.

“That,” he points. “I want the exotic fruits that you grow. My land has been decreasing in food exports due to lack of rain.”

“And what do we get in exchange for this?”

“Protection. We raided your island without issue. No one, besides you and your daughter, was capable enough to stand against us. And yet, you both failed. There are no walls to defend you people from danger, and I heard rumors that pirates occasionally pay a visit.”

Your father gulps. Jungkook is true, which you find terrifying. How much did he study before coming here? Despite the beauty of this island being isolated from the rest of the mainland, the land consists of only children and elderly people. There have been so many pirate attacks that most people your age have died from risking their lives to protect their loved ones.

“I will extend my military base here, and whenever there is a raid, then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

The fruits grown here is your island’s pride and glory. They are the symbols that make your people stand out from others. To have them conquered by foreigners breaks your heart.

Your father is hesitant to agree with the negotiation. When he looks around, he’s in no position to fight Jungkook again. Even if he was successful in landing a strike on him, is men can group around and kill him. Having no choice but to admit defeat, your father lowers his head.

“I...I acce—”

“And one more thing.”

Jungkook’s gaze turns to you, and a chill runs down your spine.

“To finalize our negotiation and officially connect our two kingdoms together, I’ll also marry (Y/N).”

“What?!” Both you and your father exclaimed in unison.

You beg that it’s only an unfunny joke, but that serious expression of his tells you otherwise. Why take more when he’s already taken what’s important?

“Marriage is to signify an alliance, correct? It’s similar to signing a contract. I’ll take her with me to make sure that you won’t do anything behind my back. In addition to that, I do need someone who knows how to farm these plants on my land.”

“That isn’t a marriage! That’s taking hostage! You’ve already taken more than necessary...but my daughter...she’s the only person valuable I have left.” Your father’s voice cracks.

It’s hard to hear your father sound so weak. He’s trying to stand tall for everyone, but you see his hands shaking.

“Then...are you willing to sacrifice your people for your daughter?”

“That’s enough!” You shout. “This...this is my life that we’re talking about, so it’s me who makes the final decision.”

You look at Jungkook, your bottom lip quivering.

“I...accept.”

Not only your father, but everyone is shocked. It’s a tough decision, but in order to prevent bloodshed, you have to make that difficult choice. It’s against your desires, but you’re not worth the entire village.

Finding this to be an easy victory, especially seeing the advantage he was in, Jungkook picks up his sword from the ground and walks off. “Very well, we will leave tomorrow at dawn. Bring everything valuable to you.”

Your father grabs you by your arms, shaking you. His eyes well up, fighting back the tears upon the devastating realization that not only did he lose his wife, but will lose his daughter too.

“(Y/N), do you understand what you’re saying?! You’ve never gone off this island before!”

You gently brush your father’s hands off, pulling a soft but forced smile. “Dad, it’s okay. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. If it means protecting the villagers, then it’s my responsibility as your daughter to fulfill that duty. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Freesia Island.”

“But...but not in this circumstance!” He falls to his knees, too ashamed to look up. “I’m sorry...I failed. As king, and as a father.”

You hug him for comfort. “You didn’t fail at anything. You did your best, and I’m glad that you did.”

But underneath these gentle words, you were nervous. Your heart is racing, regret weighing down on you as you secretly beg for a miracle to stop you from leaving. You wanted to leave the island and venture out into the world one day, but with the hopes of returning to your home. Being married to Jungkook could possibly mean that you’ll never see this place ever again, and it gives you a heartache.

While you and your father hug, Jungkook watches from afar. He stares for quite some time, though, no one can decipher what his thoughts are. In the midst of this, the captain of the crew approaches him.

“Your Majesty, is it really alright for you to marry her? You have an array of bachelorettes coming from more powerful kingdoms in line for you. Are you sure you want to marry her just for fruits?”

He traces his eyes to the captain, throwing dagger eyes at him. Goosebumps form on his skin with Jungkook’s looks that could kill.

“It’s not my late father’s choice to pick whoever I marry. Now hurry and prepare the ship for tomorrow.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

———

Later that evening, Jungkook and his men spend the night on their ship. Meanwhile, you’re sitting on your futon as your maids are helping with sorting out your belongings. Many of them are crying. You’re supposed to be preparing for your departure, but you’re occupied with cheering them up.

“(Y/N), you’re too young. We should’ve done something to prevent this.” One maid cries.

“We’re so sorry we couldn’t do anything.”

“I-it’s okay, really! You all worry about me too much. I’m not a child anymore.”

No matter what you tell them, they won’t listen. You understand that they’re indescribably worried for you, but there’s nothing you can do to change your fate. You wish you can tell them that, but your words are drowned out by their sorrowful cries.

Your father knocks on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Ah, sure.”

“Pardon the intrusion, but I would like to speak to my daughter privately.”

The women wipe their tears, scurrying out the room. Once they all left, your father enters, sitting on the hard wooden ground next to you. His eyes are red and swollen, presumably from crying. Though you try not to show it, it breaks your heart to see your father this emotionally wrecked.

“What is it, Dad?”

“I thought long and hard about the different outcomes that could’ve happened earlier today. There were so many alternatives that could’ve occurred, but no matter the outcomes, I feel like the one you’ve chosen for us was for the best. We are a peaceful colony who strive to find a solution with no bloodshed, and I failed to represent who we are.”

“No, don’t speak of yourself that way! I didn’t do anything special either. Dad, I...I was a coward. I had to fight with myself to finally step in when I could’ve done it with no hesitation.”

“No, you did well, and you are a brave woman, just like your mother. Nobody is born with bravery.”

You choke on your tears, swallowing the urge to let it go. You saw yourself as a failure, just as your father did in himself.

“But...since this is for the better, this is the least that I can do.”

He takes out a necklace, and at the center of it is a black pearl. He puts it on around your neck, brushing your hair behind your ear, doting on his daughter who has become a mature woman.

“This used to belong to your mother. We intended on giving it to you once you got married...at least not like this. It’s an important necklace, passed down through generations. It works as a good luck charm, your past ancestors will watch over you during your journey into the new world.”

“Dad I...Thank you.”

“Promise me that you won’t put yourself in danger and that one day you’ll return.”

You don’t know for sure if you’re going to come back, but your father needs a confirmation, otherwise, he won’t be able to live with himself knowing that he gave his only child to danger. He needs comfort in your words, even if they weren’t authentic.

“I promise.”

He pulls you in for one last hug, unable to hold back the tears. He cries on your shoulder as you pat him on the back. You reassured him that you’ll be fine, despite not knowing what the future holds. While he sobs uncontrollably, you listen to the sound of crickets and night-birds humming, might possibly being the last time you’ll hear this.

———

Before dawn, you trek to the top of the hill with a lantern since it’s still dark, where your mother’s grave stands. With only a spare amount of time left, you wanted to say goodbye to her last. Across from the tombstone, you sit in a fetal position after setting the lantern down. You thought about what to say, but your mind went all sorts of directions that you weren’t able to think of anything.

“So...uhm...I’m getting married...and I’m off to Freesia.”

You suck your lips in, thinking of something else to say.

“It’s kind of funny, Mom. I always dreamed of having a marriage as beautiful as yours and Dad’s. But I’m getting married to a scary man. This guy came to take our food and exchange it for profit. Horrible, right? What’s worse is that this marriage...is just an excuse to hold me hostage and make sure that Dad doesn’t do anything.”

You twindle with your thumbs, your bottom lip quivering. All night you tried not to cry because you dislike crying in front of people, but since you’re alone, you feel like releasing everything.

“I feel like I failed. I said yes so easily that I wish that I put more of a fight. I hate myself because I caved in without even trying. You should’ve seen Dad. He keeps saying that it’s his fault, but he did everything in his power to stop this. I know I should be the one to be crying, but everybody else did. I wanted to pretend that at least I don’t regret my choice...but…”

One tear escapes your eye, and you wipe it as quick as possible. However, that single tear opened the floodgates, and now you can’t stop crying.

“I’m scared...Mom. I don’t want to go. Please, help me.” You hide your face behind your knees, letting everything out. You cry so much that your hiccups hurt.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook had followed you closely behind. He’s leaning against a tree, listening to your cries. The way he watches you isn’t apathetically. He heard every word you said, your silent cries for help. Indeed, you showed yourself as a confident woman, but like everybody else, there’s a vulnerable side that you can’t hide.

———

Standing by the edge of the ship, you stare at Freesia Island with curious eyes. No longer in your clothes made for tropical weather, Jungkook has given you a thick, long-sleeved dress that makes you itch. At first, it was unbearable to be in tight clothing, but finding comfort in it after heading north to a colder region.

Hours later, the ship sets ashore by the deck, and your jaw drops by the difference from his kingdom to yours. It’s riddled with pastel-colored buildings, a land as flat as the wooden pier itself. There’s no tree taller than ten feet, and the skies are blanketed by gray clouds. The citizens of this land are wearing the same clothes as you—dull, worn-out woolen cloths.

Simply by the sight of Jungkook is enough to make the people nearby move away, not even darting an eye at him. Already there’s an immediate difference in the people’s mannerisms. It’s only his ship crew that helps drop the ropes and planks for them to get off. None of the men don’t bother with helping you off the ship, and it definitely was a struggle for you since you’ve never ridden anything as gigantic as this.

Sloppily sliding off the rope, the pain from the friction instinctively makes you let go prematurely. You lose balance, landing on your buttocks rather than your feet. The men laugh at your clumsiness, and you snarl in return.

A carriage arrives shortly thereafter. You’ve never seen a horse before, so the presence of what amazes you. Although you were frightened by the horses, you manage to drag yourself inside. Inside the carriage, you and Jungkook sit across from each other, no words exchanged. You’re speechless by the height of the buildings, peering your head out to see if you can spot the top. There were times when your head almost collided into other carriages, but you were quick to save yourself.

While riding through the capital, you’ve never seen so many people before. There are small market stands, selling food and items you’ve never seen before. The streets are so condensed, the volume of the environment being louder than the summer cicadas. Although more industrialized, the air here feels thin, as if the air is combined with smog coming from these unfamiliar metal devices coming from buildings and sidewalks.

But what you were looking forward to the most were the vast plains of endless flowers. Not once did you see it, even though it should be mid-Spring. Where is the blue sky? The green grass? The freesias? It’s building after building, blanketed by a gray sky.

———

Eventually, you two made it to the entrance of the castle, which is beyond your imagination. The castle alone has to be nearly the same size as Pitaya Island. The gate lowers to create a bridge for the carriage to pass through. The walls are as white as the doves that fly over the gate that surrounds the castle, spotless of dirt.

A red carpet has been rolled out for the pair, a continuous line of maids and butlers standing just outside the carpet’s golden line. They bow down once you two walk out of the carriage. For a second, you almost believed that they were dolls—each and every person looking so identical. Not a single wrinkle on their uniforms, and their clothes the exact same.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you and walks ahead of you. You try to catch up to him, but with the long gown, you accidentally step on the end, causing you to trip and fall face first. Your head spins, and your nose hurts from the impact. When you look up, no one has come forth to help you, not even Jungkook. He simply stares at you, as if telepathically sending you a message to hurry up. You crease your eyebrows and raise your lower lip to sulk. You stand back up and continue to follow him from behind.

———

Once you two made it into the main hall, you were separated from Jungkook, being swarmed by maids and is taken to your private room. They waste no time to prepare for the wedding ceremony. Your clothes are practically torn off, then you are pushed into a marble tub of warm water. One of them tries to take off your pearl necklace, but you refuse to let her touch it. You’re washed, from head to toe, feeling violated as the maids rush to clean you of your dirt. Within seconds, the clear water turns gray from the dirt.

You’re put into your wedding dress that is one size too small. The maids have to force the back zipper up, and with the corset already suffocating you, you have no choice but to suck your belly in more. The maids put on this strange powder-like substance on your face, making your skin paler, your lips so red like a ripe mango and blue matted over your eyelids.

In this dressing room, you sit in front of the makeup stand, unable to recognize yourself in the mirror. You almost touch your face, but it’s immediately slapped by one of the oldest-looking maids.

“Don’t touch your face, Your Highness! It’ll mess the makeup.”

You rub your hand, already feeling the urge to scratch your itchy nose. Your face feels heavy after being caked with powder and paint. By the time you finished, the sun has already begun setting. The day went by so fast, but it still has yet to end, and it ends with your wedding.

“King Jungkook is almost done with his preparation. In a few minutes, we will begin the engagement ceremony.”

You nod, not even listening to half of what she said. You can’t believe that you’re in Freesia, but it doesn’t look like the stories you heard from your parents. It was an absolute disappointment to see a colorless town with soulless people walking the streets.

———

“Once the double doors open and music is on, you’ll walk down the aisle. Make sure that each step you take is light, don’t let anyone hear your steps. Don’t walk too fast to where your veil accidentally exposes your face—it’s only for the king to see. Letting anyone else see is bad luck. Do you understand?”

The elderly maid lectures you for the fourth time, and even still, you’re unclear with the instructions. This is all new to you, confused with why everything has to be precise for one event. To avoid getting yelled at again, you nod your head, letting her know that you understand.

“Good. It’s almost time. Be prepared.” She stands by the side.

You stand in front of the double doors that lead to the throne room. The cue of the music starts playing, and you catch your breath. The doors crack open, and you’re met with a long aisle leading to the end, where two thrones are erected. You take in a deep breath, exhaling before entering the room.

Similar to the front of the castle, the room is filled with servants, their heads hanging low. By the end of the room is Jungkook in a blue shirt and white slacks. Next to him is a priest. Just like what the old maid said, you take light steps, and this time, you make sure that you don’t step on your own dress.

You successfully make it to the other side, where you stand in front of Jungkook. He truly is a handsome fellow up close, no matter how cold his eyes seem. Having no clue what to do since the maid didn’t tell you anything else, you stand there. The priest opens the book, reading a passage aloud. Curious, you lean over to see what he’s reading, but you can’t even understand what it says.

Once the reciting is complete, Jungkook leans over, making you jolt. You take a step back, but remembering that this is the part where he lifts the veil from your face, you freeze. He takes the ring from the stand, putting it on your ring finger. You assume that you have to do the same.

With that finished, he leans over, closing his eyes and tilting his head. Your lips meet, and your eyes see nothing but his face.

“Congratulations, you two are hereby pronounced as Freesia’s new king and queen.” The priest announces.

There are little applauds, but no cheers. You push him away, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. You look disgusted with the insincere kiss, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s been only a day since you been on Freesia, and it’s nothing like you thought it would be. Every second spent here, it makes you miss your home even more.

And thus, begins a new chapter in your life, with a man who forced you into an unwanted marriage.

———

In your dressing room, you change out of your dress behind a wall divider. It was unbearable being in it for hours, and you can finally breathe once you took it off. One of the maids hands you a nightgown, making you dread having to wear yet another agonizing dress.

With the thick layer of makeup wiped off and your hair loose from the hair clips’ restraints, you’re ready to drop to the ground and sleep. Today was so busy that you never had the chance to relax. Now that everything is done and over with, the exhaustion is finally setting in.

“Your Highness, please follow me to your bedroom.” A maid speaks up.

“Okay.”

You walk closely behind her, looking back and seeing the rest of the maids folding the gown that you had just taken off and dusting the corners of the room.

“Uhm...might I ask...but where will I be sleeping?” You ask.

“You will be sleeping in Jungkook’s bedroom.”

You nearly stumble over your own two feet. “E-excuse me?”

“I apologize, was I not clear?”

“N-no, his room...you say...Will there be a separate bed for me?”

“No need to be timid, Your Highness. You two are newly weds, after all.”

It isn’t that you’re shy, but you barely know Jungkook. Everyone knows how awkward it is sleeping in the same bed with a complete stranger. Despite the bond as husband and wife, there is no real relationship underneath those titles.

“Is it possible for me to have my own room…?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but it is not in my power to break traditions. If you like, then you can discuss this matter with the king.”

You knew she wasn’t going to agree with it, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Do not worry. From what I’ve seen, King Jungkook isn’t in his private room most of the time. He’s usually busy with sword practice or locked up in his office. In fact, he may be practicing right now.”

You sigh in relief. Although, you’re amazed by the amount of strength he has. He just returned home, but he’s quick to going back to work. It makes you feel awful that you’re tired even though you haven’t done anything too physical.

———

Your jaw drops at the beauty of the room. The walls are painted with articulate designs of flowers and stems stretched in all four corners. There’s a couch in the corner with a coffee table. Against the wall is the king-sized bed, more pillows can you can count and a red blanket tucked neatly into the mattress. Next to it is a nightstand.

There isn’t much in the room, which is why it looks big. There’s also a private restroom just off the side, and a closet that’s big enough to become a room itself. The candles have been lit for the night, and it seems like they’ve been on for quite a while since so much of the wax has melted.

“If there’s anything you need, then just let us know as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Well then, goodnight, Your Highness.”

She closes the door behind you. The first thing you do is touch everything. Every piece of furniture is stitched to perfection. The material is silky, so smooth that it feels satisfying stroking it. You check the closet next, and it’s filled with all of Jungkook’s clothes. He has so many that you don’t think your clothes will fit in. You walk out to the balcony with a candlelight in hand. You can see the garden from here, spreading through the back part. That’s where you’ll be planting the fruits soon.

From the corner of your eye, there’s a separate building detached from the castle. When you squint your eyes, you see Jungkook swinging a wooden sword. He’s hitting a scarecrow multiple times, aiming at the pressure points. The maid wasn’t exaggerating when she said that he would be practicing right now. It’s so late, so you don’t see the reason for training.

You watch him for a few more seconds before yawning and calling it a night. Pressing your palm on the mattress, you wonder if it’s alright for you to take space on Jungkook’s bed. Under your breath, you apologize to Jungkook and slide into bed. You stare at the empty side, imagining what it’s like to sleep next to him. But picturing the intimacy makes you blush, so you turn around and try to sleep the thought away. There’s no chance that you’ll ever let that monstrous man lay a finger on you.

You let out a light sigh, holding onto the necklace and praying that the night will go well for you. Before closing your eyes, you think about your mother.

———

“M-Mom? What are you doing?”

You’re back home again, but in child form. In front of your is your mother, her eyes red from sobbing as she pushes you into a small hole in the wall. Although you want to look around, your small body won’t let you. All you do is stare at your mother.

“Don’t worry about me. Stay hidden here and don’t let the bad men see or hear you, got it?”

In the background, black smoke pollutes the red sky. The smell of fire is overpowering. The screams of the villagers, hearing their voices be cut off followed by the sound of gunshots, deafens your ears.

Your mother gets up, but before she can run off, you grab her wrist, crying uncontrollably. “Mom! Don’t leave me, I’m scared…”

She stares at her only daughter, begging her not to leave, eyebrows raised as if not knowing how to soothe you. She gets on one knee, wrapping her arms, burying your face into her shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, and I never will,” she kisses you on the forehead. “Even if you can’t see me, I’m there for you because I’m your mother.”

There was something off-putting about your mother’s final words, like she knew her fate was inevitable. She wasn’t going to be there to see you grow up, so she found the right words to have you stop crying, almost like an enchanting spell.

You swallow that lump in your throat, nodding your head before letting go of your mother. She smiles in relief, brushing your hair one last time. She steps back, her grin not once leaving her face.

Just then, a muscular man bursts through the door, startling you and your mother. Your mother freezes, face-to-face with one of the pirates who have raided the island. A malicious smile forms on his face, marching right for her. For a millisecond, you and your mother make eye contact, but you knew what her expression said:

‘Don’t make a single noise.’

You cover your mouth, stopping your cries from seeping from between your fingers. But no matter how tight you squeeze your mouth shut, your heart won’t stop pounding. You turn your attention to the tattoo of a black skull on the man’s bicep, glaring back at you with hollow eyes, proceeded by your mother’s screams.

———

You open your eyes, jolting your entire body. You shoot up your upper body, discovering that you’re covered in cold sweat. Your pounding heart is so loud that it almost sounds like it’s echoing. The tips of your fingers tremble.

When you look around to see that you’re in Jungkook’s bedroom, you sigh in relief. You haven’t had a nightmare like that in years, so it’s not a surprise that you’re shaken.

“A nightmare?” A familiar voice asks.

Standing by the bedside is Jungkook, taking off his leather gloves, not batting an eye at you. He was so quiet that you didn’t sense his presence whatsoever. It’s humiliating that he has to see you in this state, but you can’t undo what he’s already seen.

You shake your head. “No...it’s difficult adapting to this place.”

“It’s not hot enough for you to be sweating that much though.” He states as he points at your pillow.

With the candlelight illuminating by the nightstand, a dark shade is embedded into your pillow. You pat it down, your palm interacting with the sweat. You open your mouth to provide a counter argument, but you can’t think of anything from the top of your head.

“Well, since you’re awake, allow me to provide you with a bit of house rules. From here on out, you’ll be in charge of instructing the farmers on how to properly grow the dragon fruits. You will need to learn the ins and outs of this land, so the head maid will be responsible for scheduling etiquette lessons, academics, and so on.”

While you’ve already been made aware of the farming aspect, you weren’t expecting to be tutored. You want to retaliate because you never agreed to the later half of the deal, but Jungkook beats you to it and responds first.

“And don’t try to do anything sneaky. You don’t want to do anything that’ll cost the life of your people.”

A chill runs down your spin. The rules and threat don’t help with your anxiety either, putting more pressure onto your shoulders that you need to abide by the law he creates.

Once Jungkook finishes switching out from his muddy boots to indoor slippers, he strides to the doorway. You were about to call out after him, but you stopped yourself. This is the third time Jungkook has caught you by the tongue, and it’s annoying you.

You curl into a fetal position, dropping your head onto your knees. The new life that you’ll be leading...was it the right choice to leave? You’re beginning to think like your father—could there have been a better outcome if you didn’t prematurely agreed to the engagement?

You mess with your hair, combing your fingers through it as you exhale heavily. To avoid the stress taking ahold of you, you hold onto the necklace, convincing yourself that there was no other way. You can’t wish for this to go away, you have to face it head on. This is just the beginning.

———

SUMMER

“Your Highness, where should the seeds be placed?” An old man approaches with a sack.

“They go into the shed along with the rest of the farm equipment.”

He runs off as quickly as he ran here. In the garden, you’re leaning over as you check the current state of the plants. On the first day of summer, everyone is sweating buckets worth, but this sort of weather is like winter in your homeland, so it’s natural.

It’s been months since you left, and now you live almost comfortably. You’ve been put in charge of raising the tropical plants, keeping a record of the process and sending it to Jungkook by the end of each day. Each day follows a specific pattern, where one day, you’ll be learning proper etiquette as a part of royalty, and other days you’ll be working closely with the servants.

You find it easier to get along with the servants compared to your tutors. They have zero interest in your well-being. It almost feels as if they’re looking down on you because you came from a small island. With the servants, it took awhile for them to warm up to you, but after that’s been done, there’s no issue talking to them.

“Your Highness, shouldn’t you be resting by now? You’ve been here since the break of dawn.” The elderly man asks as soon as he set the sack down.

You shake your head. “I’m fine. I prefer staying outside anyway. It feels a little suffocating in there.”

“But what about your language tutor? Wouldn’t she get upset?”

“I don’t have an issue with verbal communication, and this kingdom’s writing system is confusing that I don’t want to think about it. It doesn’t hurt missing one or two sessions.”

“King Jungkook will get upset if he finds out that you’re skipping lessons!”

“It’s alright,” you say as you pinch the leaves. “It isn’t like he cares.”

Despite the marriage, you and Jungkook treat each other like strangers. You two don’t even share the same bedroom. You’re careful not to show the grudge you hold for him, but Jungkook isn’t a fool; he knows you detest him. However, it was never his intention to be affectionate, you’re here as the connection between him and your father.

“Has he been treating you thoughtfully?”

“More or less. I feel more like a servant than his wife. It’s odd just thinking about how I’m queen…”

The old man laughs. “Even though you came from a royal background?”

“Well, my tradition is different from here. There’s no castle, no machines, no solid hierarchy.”

“It’s pleasant to hear that you came from a humble background. It’s very similar to King Jungkook’s.”

Your ears perk once you hear that. “Excuse me? Can you tell me more? What do you mean by that?”

Although you keep a large gap between you and him, you still are curious about Jungkook. He’s a mysterious person for sure, and you’d like to know more about him.

He looks around to make sure that no one else can hear. “Our former king, King Kim, was a kind man, putting his people before himself. It wasn’t until he was dethroned and slaughtered by King Jeon King Jungkook’s father. He was ruthless, I tell you. He prioritized military power and monetary gain more than anything. Each concubine he married was for the purpose of gaining something from the other lands, eventually marrying five wives.”

It sounds awfully similar to your situation, which isn’t surprising.

“However, his sixth wife was the most unusual, King Jungkook’s mother.”

His mother? You’ve heard about his father previously, but you have yet to learn about his mother. You don’t know if he has a close relationship with his mother. In fact, you don’t even know if she’s alive. If the former king had six wives, where are they?

“How so?”

“What’s going on here?”

From behind, Jungkook had been standing there all this time. The old man looks frightened, nearly falling over.

“Y-Your Majesty. W-we were just checking this section.”

But Jungkook doesn’t seem to believe that. The old man is sweating blocks.

“He was just telling me about the summer heat.”

“Hm, okay,” He still isn’t convinced but doesn’t push any further. “(Y/N), let me speak to you privately.”

You follow him from behind, walking away from the farm. You look back at the old man, hoping that Jungkook won’t do anything.

———

Inside the castle corridors, you’re unsure where he’s going. Every time he walks by a servant, they bow their heads and greet him.

“How have the plants been growing? There’s something off about them.”

“The growth process is a little slow. Because the weather is colder here, it’s going to take longer.”

“How long?”

“I’m not sure...maybe a year until we see something grow.”

“...Very well. It seems like we will have to keep relying on shipments from your island then.”

His words trigger your homesickness. You wonder how your father is doing, hopefully not worried sick for you.

“Also…” he starts. “I’d prefer it if you kept to your own business. My past is not your entertainment.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure how he came to that conclusion. “I didn’t ask for my amusement. I was genuinely curious.”

“Why learn about someone you hate? To use it against me?”

“Where is this coming from? Why are you accusing me of such things?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. “If I hear one more question about my mother, then don’t expect me to give you a second chance.”

You can’t believe that he’s threatening you because of your curiosity. You dislike how he can do whatever he wants with you, but opening your mouth is forbidden.

“What’s wrong with me asking about your mother?” You ask with attitude.

He stops walking, that being the last straw. He turns around, and you cover your mouth, realizing that you made a mistake. He stands over you, his dead eyes staring straight into your soul. You gulp, feeling intimidated as he stands inches before you.

“Then tell me how your mother died.”

You never once mentioned about your mother around him, so how does he know?

“Wh-what? How did you…”

“That day when I took over your island, I followed you to your mother’s grave. I heard everything—you crying over her dead body like a helpless child, begging her for help.”

The things that he’s saying...you know that he’s saying only to push you on edge, but you can’t help it. The way he’s mocking your most vulnerable moment, speaking disrespectfully about your mother, it’s infuriating you.

“You’re an imbecile, thinking that a dead person can help you. They’re nothing but bones. There’s no such thing as spirits, and only a dimwit believes that. Your mother died and left you.”

You clench your fists, looking down at your chest, where your mother’s pearl necklace rests.

“Do you now understand why you shouldn’t ask—”

You headbutt him in the chin. He was completely off-guard by that that he nearly fell backwards.

This catches the attention of all the servants in the hall. The color drains out of their eyes when they saw you hit the king himself. He wraps his hand around his injured chin as it pulsates.

“You little…!”

Aware of what your near future has to hold, the servants flee to avoid the consequences. Jungkook was about to explode, but once he sees your face, his anger subsides. Your eyes are watery, presumably because your feelings have been hurt and the pain after hitting him with your head.

“I’m sorry I asked.”

You storm off, and this sets off even more panic with the servants. But you don’t care. You wanted to get that out of your system, and it felt good. After everything he’s done to you, at least he deserved a headbutt.

———

In another section of the castle finally alone, you’re facing the wall, wiping your eyes. You mumble to yourself, ‘don’t cry, don’t cry.’ You’re embarrassed that you almost let yourself go in front of him, but you weren’t expecting him to spill such crude words. Now you’re stuck in a dilemma where you might be punished for your actions.

Is this really going to be your life? Stuck in a castle with a man who doesn’t love you? All you can think about is going back home, seeing your father again, sleeping in your favorite futon, and talking to your mother, even if she’s dead.

“That was definitely a sight worth seeing!”

You hear an unexpected voice from behind. You spin your body, seeing a man grinning from ear to ear. You don’t recognize him, so you’re on guard when he takes a step closer to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” as a friendly welcome, he extends his hand out for a handshake. “My name is Taehyung, and I’m a new servant.”

Raising an eyebrow, you decide to trust him, giving him your hand. He gives it a good, rough shake before letting your hand go.

“Were you crying just now?”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t.” You sniff.

“Hm, anyways, I saw what you did earlier, and that definitely took a huge leap of courage. Never in my life have I ever seen anyone do that.” Taehyung applauds.

Still on high alert, you don’t react. Sensing the vibe, he stops.

“He’s a quiet man, but one wrong move and his words can become as sharp as a blade. Now, I wasn’t too sure what the conversation was about, but I’m sure he was trying to press your buttons.”

You don’t respond, so he takes this as a yes. Seeing as you’re silent, he assumes you don’t trust him. He leans down until he’s eye level with you. There’s something in his eyes that you haven’t seen in awhile, and it’s sympathy.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m on your side. If you want, you can tell me what’s been on your chest. I promise that I won’t tell Jungkook.”

His words are comforting to hear, it’s something that you needed. When you loosen the stiffness in your shoulders, he smiles, relieved that you trust him.

Some time has gone by, and you open up about everything. You weren’t expecting yourself to vent so much, especially since you just barely met him. It just shows that you really needed someone to talk to—someone who’s worried about their safety. Taehyung was quiet the majority of the time, nodding his head. It felt like he was actually invested in what you had to say.

“It must be hard, being in a foreign land, learning a new culture and meet strangers all by yourself.”

“...It is. I’ve always wanted to travel, but not like this.”

“Believe me when I say this, Your Highness, but I know exactly what you mean. I also was alone for most of my life, and it’s scary.”

“Where are you from?”

“Here, but I was orphaned at a very young age. It’s a miracle that I’m even alive.”

“I’m...sorry about that.”

“No worries!” he takes a step back, returning to his bubbly personality. “I know we just met, but what would you say if I told you that I can help you back home?”

Your eyes widen, at a loss of words. Did he really say what you thought you heard? “Really?! But...why?”

He nods. “No person should be restrained to another without consent, and I’m willing to get you out of it. Your father is the only family you have left, right? You should go back to him when you still have the chance.”

You can’t believe it. Taehyung is a savior. However...your hope sinks when you forgot another important factor.

“But...he has my father in his hands. If I leave, he knows where to look, and without a doubt, he’ll definitely kill everybody.”

“I might know a way to get around that. It won’t be easy, and it’ll take time, but if you want my help, then I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to find Jungkook’s weak spot.”

A weakness? “What does it have to do with the plan?”

“Think about it: he’s the one who’s pulling the strings. Even if you try to tug on it, his eyes are on you, so you can’t escape. If we use his weakness to distract him, then I can help snip the strings. You have an advantage because you’re his wife—the only person closest to him. I may not look like it, but I have a lot of connections, and I can get someone to prepare a ship for your return.”

“Are...you really willing to go that far for me? I-I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

While you’re grateful for this opportunity, it feels off. The benefits outweigh the workload. Can the plan really work out the way he explains it to be?

“I’m doing it also for myself. One day, I’ll tell you why. The plan might sound simple, but it’s more complicated. But don’t worry about it, I’ll do the hard part. I just need you to gain Jungkook’s trust.”

“...Okay. I’ll do it,” you lean over, hugging him to express how thankful you are, but it catches him off-guard. “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget it.”

He pulls himself back, clearing his throat. “It hasn’t started, so don’t thank me yet.”

He has given you this ray of hope that nobody else here has done. Each day, your mental state deteriorated because nobody was willing to take the chance to listen to you. If you hadn’t met Taehyung, then you would’ve continued to spiral down into insanity. You make sure that Taehyung’s offer will not be taken for granted.

———

The head maid’s hand slaps you so hard that your head turned in the same direction as her hand. “You simple-minded bitch!”

You fight the urge to hit her back, clenching your fists.

“How dare you humiliate the king in front of everybody?! He has been nothing but kind toward you! He gave you a roof to sleep under, food, and even education for that barbaric mind of yours!” She nags as she aggressively pokes your head.

Despite being the queen, you’re treated no differently from a maid. There is no respect for you from the head maid, only when Jungkook is around. She has already made it clear that she despises you since the beginning.

“If you had been some ordinary woman, then I’d have your hair shaved off. You don’t deserve the opportunity to even apologize!” She turns away, sneering at you. “I still cannot believe that he chose to marry you when he had more proper women lined up.”

You didn’t make the decision, but the way she says it makes it sound like it was. You rub your cheek after she leaves. It’s unfair that Jungkook doesn’t get backlash for what he does, but you do. If you were of another background, then the maid wouldn’t have treated you this way.

You stomp your feet to the balcony, pushing the doors open. The urge to scream is pulled back when you’re reminded that as a woman, you could get in trouble for using your chest voice. Instead, you slam your fist against the concrete rail, cursing to your heart’s content. The maid did not see what had unfolded between you and him, but even if she did, she would still side with Jungkook.

You raise your head up, staring at the distant building where Jungkook has sword practice. Even under this hot weather, he’s still practicing. For the months that you’ve been living here, he’s never missed a day. He doesn’t even sleep in the same room as you. You can’t quite understand him—why is he so intent with work?

You recall what Taehyung said about potentially helping you return to your island. With him being closed-off with everyone, including you, how can you possibly get close to him? But you can’t have a defeatist attitude just yet when you haven’t started. Perhaps you’re overthinking it and there is a chance that you can pass through his barriers; you just have to figure out how.

———

You exhaling to calm your nerves. In your hands is a tray of iced tea. You’re a few feet away from Jungkook, in the gardens hiding behind a rose bush sculpted into the shape of a young angel. This is the first time you’ll be approaching him non-business related, so you pray that your act of kindness doesn’t come off as suspicious. You convince yourself not to worry too much, counting backward before going.

You pull the most welcoming smile that you can achieve, walking stiffly to Jungkook. As you pull in closer, he notices you and stops. He brushes his sweaty hair back, breathing heavily as he stares at you. The longer he stares at you, the more conscious you are of your appearance. How do you look like when you’re walking? Is your posture relaxed? How does a normal walk look like again? All the little things attacking you at once.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” you pause momentarily to rehearse your lines. “It sure is hot today, isn’t it? I see you practice here often, so I thought it’d be best for you to take a break and have a cup of cold tea.”

You look for anything to use as a table, but seeing as there’s nothing of use, you keep ahold of the tray.

Already, he raises an eyebrow. “I know. I see you on the balcony, watching me.”

He points at the balcony connected to the bedroom, and you look behind. You never thought about how obvious it is when you stand there, spying on him like a stalker. It makes you flustered, almost forgetting what to say next.

“Oh, it’s just fascinating watching you practice. You strike this dummy like it’s a real person!” You try to sound enthusiastic, but it’s too forced that he can see through you.

“What do you want?”

“N-nothing! I just…” you look down at the ground. “...wanted to apologize for my rash behavior the other day. It was uncalled for me to hit you like that. I-I know a cup of tea isn’t going to redo the past, but I want to show that I thought a lot about it and would like to make up for that.”

While a part of you does feel apologetic for what you did, but the childish side says that he deserved it. Jungkook still doesn’t look convinced with your offer but gives in to it anyways. He takes the cup and sips it before returning it to you. He resumes training, acting as if you never came by.

You’re left there standing without another word. Is that really it? What else are you supposed to do? You were expecting more persuasion would come into play. You were going to take this as a perfect opportunity to be pushier, but you’re stumped.

“Okay well...train hard.”

You spin around, pacing back to the garden with your head hanging low. Your face is flushed, unable to believe that you were at a loss of words. You prepared a whole conversation in case he refused, but he’s wittier than you thought. He knows that by retaliating, it’ll give you a reason to stay and bother him. He was one step ahead of you.

But you can’t give up now. This is just the first attempt. You raise your head up with new determination.

———

Every day since then, you would bring cold drinks for Jungkook during his training session. You would ask the servants to teach you how to make tea, then you would bring it out to him. You did this so often that the servants thought that it was becoming a chore for you, so they offered to do it in your stead, but you turned it down every time. You wanted—needed—to be the one to get close to him, even if the atmosphere felt uncomfortably silent.

“Why do you practice every day?” You ask one day.

While sitting down on the ground, Jungkook stares at you. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t answer you. You return the gaze back at him, using your hand as a shade above your eyes to protect them from the glaring sun. He looks away, turning his attention back at the beatdown scarecrow.

“It’s important not to slack off.”

“But don’t you think you’re practicing too much? I see you with a wooden sword more than anything else.”

The end of his eyebrow raises up, not agreeing with your statement. “It’s easy for you to say that.”

He returns to what he was doing before, trying to ignore you as usual. However, you aren’t going to let him off that easily this time.

“You know, I may not look like it, but I know how to use a sword too.”

“Yes, I’m aware. That was how we met.”

You forgot about that. That wasn’t the best introduction, but there’s no way you can redo that now. You stand up, stretching your arms and legs. He stands back, wondering what you’re about to do.

You grab an extra wooden sword and get into battle position. You raise the sword over your head, swinging it down on the scarecrow’s head. The head bobs up and down from the impact, dust flying everywhere. You look at Jungkook, waiting for his praise.

“Holding the sword above your head takes too much strength and time. By doing that, you leave your entire body vulnerable, and you would’ve gotten hit by then. You don’t want to make the first hit the most powerful one either. Conserve your strength for the rest of the fight.”

Your pride was stomped in an instant, but then again, there was no point for you to show off amateur skills to an expert.

“Who taught you how to use a sword?”

You scratch your cheek, having realized that you boasted about yourself a bit too much. “No one…”

“Not even your father?”

“No...my dad didn’t want me to get near a blade, so I kinda learned by watching him.”

“Hm, impressive. Despite everything else, you have the strength equivalent to that of a man, and self-taught too, not too bad.”

You knew that you were most likely stronger than an average woman because you were the only person in your entire village who could perform physical labor. Everybody was either too old or young.

“Perhaps you’re not some ordinary, dainty woman, but you still have a long way before you call yourself a swordswoman.”

You don’t know if meant that as a compliment. Either way, it lifted your spirits. You try to hide your smile, but it’s impossible. Jungkook catches you grinning, not sure why you’re happy, but decides not to say anything. In fact, that’s the first time he’s seen you smile since you got here and this is the longest conversation he’s had with you.

Upon first impression, it didn’t seem like you liked him, which isn’t surprising considering what he did. But you suddenly started showing up, giving him something to drink every day under the scorching weather, trying to talk to him. It’s highly suspicious, especially since you get nothing out of talking to him. However, it isn’t something he particularly hates.

“You’re...” He trails off. “...welcome to practice here. And you don’t have to use tea as an excuse.”

Your jaw drops, your eyes so wide that you can see the whole world. He doesn’t know why you’re so speechless by his offer, but you quickly go back to smiling again.

“Thank you, Your Majesty!”

If anything, he’s more shocked. He can’t understand why he feels...comfortable talking to you. You two should see each other as enemies, but seeing you in another light, he wasn’t thinking when he offered this place to you. If anything, it would be a bad move on his end. If you learned how to use a weapon, then you can kill him. But this brief conversation felt like the conflict between you and him doesn’t exist. He can’t remember the last time he spoke to someone without second-guessing, or if he ever did at all.

———

And just as he said, you’ve been practicing alongside Jungkook. You still bring him tea, but now you found another reason to stop by. Although he doesn’t say much, he does leave advice here and there to better your swordsmanship. Whenever it isn’t about training, he would ask about how the dragonfruits are growing. Despite that gap between you and him still apparent, the gap definitely closened.

However, today is unlike any day. When you head to the training area, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. He’s usually here around this time of day. You set the tea set down, finding a gardener nearby.

“Excuse me, do you know where King Jungkook is?”

“I heard that the shipment from Pitaya Island has arrived today, so he went to the port to check. He should be back shortly.”

“Thank you.”

You leave the gardener be, deciding to kill time by swinging the wooden sword. The head maid recommends that you use your extra time by studying, but just thinking about a book already stresses you out. You can already tell that academics aren’t your strongest, so you dread the thought of just thinking about it. At least for this, this gives you a reason to feel productive.

———

You thought that by practicing, hours would fly over your head, but it turned out to be the contrary. You keep looking back at the garden, hoping to see Jungkook. Every time you think about him, you try shaking him out. He is your enemy, you tell yourself, you’re not here to become allies. It makes you forget about him for a few seconds, then you return to this vicious cycle of thinking about him again.

After an hour, you stopped, finding this repetition to get on your nerves. You kick the pebbles around, watching them roll away. With all your attention on the pebbles, you almost run into the scarecrow. You get into a stare-off with it, glaring at its dirty face. It has two ‘x’ for eyes, as there used to be buttons there. It’s been abused by Jungkook so much that cotton is falling out from the man-made body, and the clothes have lost their color. Despite being a victim, it still has a smile sewn onto it.

“What are you looking at?” You make an attempt to sound menacing, but only make a poor attempt at it. “Just because you hang out with Jungkook the most doesn’t mean that you’re special.”

You pause as if the scarecrow is actually speaking.

“What? I’m not jealous. Just to let you know, I hate him. That’s right, he’s my arch-nemesis, so that means that you’re my enemy too. I have every reason to show you no mercy.”

You’re quiet again, and then you pull yourself back as if you’ve been offended.

“No, I’m not thinking about him! Are you insane? ...Me? Worried?” You roll your eyes, scoffing. “Why would I worry about that selfish prick anyway? He doesn’t care if I die.”

You realize that you’re having an imaginary conversation with a scarecrow, but knowing that you talked to your mother’s tombstone for twelve years, this is nothing out of the ordinary.

“He just...wants me because it’ll benefit him. I refuse to believe that he has an ounce of care in him.”

That’s right, you shouldn’t try to understand someone who doesn’t think about others. You should focus on getting back home. It would be a waste to have him in your thoughts.

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” The scratchy voice was so loud that it frightened you.

The head maid is marching right toward you, grabbing your arm once she got close enough. You thought that you had gotten into trouble again, but that expression on her face doesn’t look like she intends to yell at you today.

“Where on earth have you been?! I’ve been searching everywhere!”

“I-I was here this whole time. Why?”

“There was an attack!”

“What?!”

“A pirate had hijacked one of the ships with the food supply from your island and made an attempt to ambush King Jungkook.”

You thought you didn’t hear her right. When she said ‘your island,’ there was this immediate feeling of foreboding dragging your entire spirit down.

“Thankfully, they were no match for the king, so—”

“Where is King Jungkook?!”

Startled by your sudden question, she hesitates. “The king is in the main hall. I understand that you’re in a panic, we all were, but do not raise your voice—”

You run back inside, not caring if your shoes are covered in dirt. You’re not supposed to run in the castle, but you could care less. What you need to know now is if your father is okay.

———

In the main hall, the servants and soldiers surround Jungkook. You fight through the crowd to get into the center. Your heart pounds, your vision is blurry, and your hands tremble. You want to know what happened so you can get rid of this antsy feeling.

When the crowd finally notices you passing through, they immediately make way. They grow silent after seeing you, even Jungkook. Standing before him, you didn’t have to say anything for him to know what you want to ask.

“They’re safe. The pirates hijacked the ship after they picked up the new shipment.”

It felt like a million things have just been lifted. You don’t know how you would react if he didn’t have any good news to say.

Despite saving the capital from a terror attack, the people around Jungkook don’t cheer. They have the same, stoic expression that they’ve always had. Once Jungkook walks away from the main lobby and into the hall, the crowd disperses, returning to their everyday lives.

Perhaps there was more that you should’ve said to him, at most a thanks. After all, he did save the mainland, as it is a king’s duty to do so. Something in you is persuading you to move your feet and follow him, let him know that you’re thankful, even if he ignores you.

———

As Jungkook dives deeper into the maze of corridors, you follow closely behind. You’re embarrassed for behaving stealthily when you can simply confront him, but you want to stall and have enough time to rehearse what you want to say to him

You don’t even know if it’s worth it to thank him, especially knowing how talented he is at ignoring you. You aren’t even sure why you’re so keen on talking to him. It might be because you’ve gotten comfortable enough to be around him that it becomes second nature to speak to him. Another reason might be because you were unconsciously worried about him, no matter how much you deny that. Regardless of the reason, you’re still here, hiding behind each statue, peeking your head out and waiting for the perfect opportunity to say something.

You come to a halt when Jungkook suddenly stops walking in the middle of the halls. Initially, you thought that he noticed you. But after a few seconds later, you see that that isn’t the case. Since he’s not moving, you thought that this would be the right time to reveal yourself and stop hiding. You step out from behind a sculpture of a man, waving your hand to grab his attention.

“Your Majesty, I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook falls to his knees, coughing violently. You’re startled, not doing anything before processing that he’s fallen over. After it clicks that he’s not well, you force your legs to work.

You kneel down, getting a better look at his condition. Jungkook is covering his mouth with his hand, coughing nonstop to the point where he’s wheezing. His other arm and wrapped around his stomach, and sweat is pouring out of his pores. His ears and nose are turning red.

You put your hands on his shoulders, and it seems as though he didn’t realize that you were here all along. Instinctively, he shoves your hands off, giving you an angry look. “Don’t touch me...”

After moving his hand away from his mouth, you see the blood rolling down his lip. The palm of his hand is covered in blood, fusing with the sweat. He struggles to stand up, only to fall back down. He’s so weak that he has to lean on the wall, trying to catch his breath.

Seeing him in this condition, it horrifies you. Just moments ago, he looked fine. He must’ve waited until there was absolutely no one to finally fall. With his arm still wrapped around his stomach, you notice that his shirt is slowly sucking up the blood. He must have received an injury to the stomach.

Disregarding his order, you lean over to him, putting his arm around your neck to help him up. He looks confused but too weak to remove his arm from you.

“What are you doing?”

“Why did you pretend like you were okay?!” You respond with a question.

Jungkook is silent, looking away. With your strength, you’re able to lift him up, though you struggle to get him to walk. After the first few steps, you were able to get into rhythm with his steps. The sweat from the tips of his hair is rubbed against your cheek, and your dress is soaking up the sweat like a sponge.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To your room.”

———

In the room, Jungkook’s personal doctor has just completed his checkup, returning the stethoscope back to the bag. His doctor has given him liquid medicine to soothe him. After all the commotion, he’s finally calmed down and asleep. You stayed for the entire duration, standing by the side and waiting for the results.

The doctor approaches you, sighing. “His Majesty is no longer in critical condition. It was quite a fright, however.”

“Can you explain what happened?”

“He was injured during battle, receiving a deep cut to his waist. There must’ve been poison on the blade, as he was showing symptoms.”

“What?!”

“I’m not certain what kind of poison yet, but it most likely might’ve been a plant-based poison.”

Your gaze turns to Jungkook, who’s sleeping soundly.

“It was sheer luck that you were barely able to get me in time before the poison spread to his entire body. He should be able to recover within a week as long as he takes the medicine on a daily basis. However, he will still feel soreness in his muscles, so I recommend that he doesn’t get out of bed,” The doctor gives you a transparent glass bottle. “Make sure that he takes this three times a day. Oh, and please keep an eye on him. He may be our king, but he’s still a child. He might feel uneasy being in bed and make sure that he doesn’t try to sneak out.”

He walks off, leaving you confused at first before turning around and calling him back. “Wait, excuse me—”

And with that, the doctor closes the door behind him. Your intention was to get him to his room and get help as soon as possible, not become his personal maid. Even though you are his wife by contract, you aren’t romantically attached to him to where you should take care of him.

But when you look at him, you can’t help but think that you’re simply being selfish. You know almost nothing about taking care of an ill person, so you were upset that the responsibility was dropped on your head suddenly. You can’t forget that he fought outsiders to protect his land and behaved as if he was fine afterwards.

Since he’s no longer in critical condition, you decide that it’s best to let him rest. You open the drawer of the nightstand to place the bottle inside. However, there’s something in there that catches your attention. It’s a black and white photo of a boy sitting on a woman’s lap. Both of their expressions look melancholic, showing no signs of glee whatsoever. They’re dressed in elegant clothing, not a single wrinkle on it, and their hair is combed back with a gel-like substance.

The child on the woman’s lap has a starking resemblance to Jungkook. You look at Jungkoook, then look back at the photo. He looks similar to the woman in the photograph as well. After thinking about it for a while, you draw to the conclusion that this is Jungkook, and the woman is presumably his mother.

Jungkook turns in his bed and groans. Startled, you instinctively shove the photo into your pocket. You sigh in relief when he doesn’t wake up. You take the photo out, staring at it again.

———

“This woman?”

In the wine basement, you hand the photograph to Taehyung. He tilts his head, rotating the picture around to get a better look at it.

“This is Jungkook’s mother.”

Just as you thought.

“Where did you find this?” He asks while returning the picture back to you.

“I found it in his drawer. I was wondering if you know anything about her.”

You’re aware that Jungkook is not fond of people talking about his mother, but your curiosity outweighs the caution. You’re keen into knowing why he was so against you learning about her, and you want to know why there’s no sign of her either.

“I’m not surprised that he’s trying to keep it silent.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“His mother was a prostitute.”

“Prostitute? What’s that?”

Uncomfortable with figuring out how to properly explain the term, he averts his eyes. He leans over to your ear, whispering the description. Upon hearing the answer, you pull yourself back, dropping your jaw. You then cover your mouth with your hand.

“Everybody knows, but Jungkook forbids anyone to talk about it. It might be because he’s ashamed of his background, being raised by a street woman.”

You look at the picture again, focusing on his mother. You can’t imagine her living that sort of lifestyle, and then for Jungkook to grow up in that environment.

“I don’t know the full story, but the former king suddenly announced that he wedded another woman, his sixth one, in fact.”

“How is it possible that a king can marry another woman? What ever happened to swearing oath to one?”

“By law, the king is allowed to marry as many wives as he wishes. It’s a new rule after Jungkook’s father killed the king previous to him. Although, I can’t say for certain that not all concubines were treated equally.”

Taehyung puts his hands in his pockets, the mood darkening. There was a glimpse of fury underneath his eyes, but you might’ve imagined it.

“His father is a selfish prick, creating rules only to benefit him. His eyes saw nothing but lust. Either that or their kingdom had something the former king wanted, so an alliance through marriage was necessary for him to have a share.”

The latter half of Taehyung’s remark bothers you as if poking you on the side to remind you of your position. Without a doubt, you know that he didn’t marry you because he liked you, but what your island can contribute to him. The more you think about it, the more disdain you grow for him. But, you aren’t sure if the disdain is for Jungkook, or indirectly toward his father.

You know you’re looking at this with a biased point of view, but even if Taehyung described Jungkook’s mother in a sour way, you can’t bring yourself to look down on her. It might be because of what you used to have with your mother, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions and assume who his mother exactly is.

Seeing how deep in thought you are, Taehyung bends down until he’s eye level with you, patting you on the shoulder as he smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Soon enough, I’ll be able to send you back home. You’re doing a fine job.”

That’s right, you shouldn’t sympathize with anyone here but Taehyung. He’s the only one willing to help you, so there’s no need to feel sorry for Jungkook...right?

———

Jungkook’s health has been improving steadily, and he’s been staying in bed as of late. You were worried about the extra weight of giving him his daily dose of medicine, but it was you merely overthinking it. At most, you have to measure the right dosage then mix it into his soup. Once that’s complete, you go back to tending the dragon fruit garden and the dreadful private lessons.

Since he takes over the bed, you don’t sleep in the room anymore. Once the head maid is off your back, you sneak into your dressing room and sleep there. If she finds out that you’re not sleeping the ‘proper way’, then she would smack you without hesitation.

It’s been a few days since he’s been bedridden, and you can’t tell he’s beginning to get antsy staying in bed all day. The doctor insists that he doesn’t overwork himself as he’s still sore. However, Jungkook is a busy body, so resting is uncommon to him.

Today, in particular, you notice that he looks especially stressed. On his lap is a clipboard with sheets of paper stacked above it. He keeps scratching his head, his forehead wrinkled as he makes tiny grunts under his breath. You thought it’d be best to ignore it, but he’s not even trying to hide it.

“Are you okay…?”

“No, I’m not.” He responds frankly.

It would’ve been nicer if he didn’t say it in that tone. However, you try to brush it off. You keep telling yourself that this is for the sake of going back home.

“Is there any way I can help you with that?”

He glares at me as if astounded that you even bothered to ask that. “How will you be able to help me? You hardly know your numbers.”

You can feel your veins popping out. His snarky remarks are testing your patience, especially since you didn’t do anything this time to upset him.

“I might not be able to do it for you, but if you want someone to talk to, then I can be your listener.”

“How will that help me?”

“That way, you don’t have to carry the weight by yourself.”

He squints his eyes, not wanting to take your word for it. “This is a battle plan that the general and I created together. There has been an increase in pirate attacks, and we’re trying to figure out how to increase our defense.”

You take a look at the sheets, and it’s much more complicated than you thought. You barely understand the written language itself, and all the lines and circles drawn to each line makes you more confused. You weren’t expecting him to let you see it, or even tell you. In a way, it made you excited knowing that he’s trusting you bit by bit, even if you can’t understand anything.

“But...it isn’t easy. For every plan I create, I have to get them approved by my older brothers, and that isn’t easy. Every damn plan I propose to them, they reject it. And yet, they complain, and complain, and complain that I need to somehow improve my military.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

He was right—you really don’t know how to solve this. You’ve never met any of his relatives to give suggestions. Being speechless, you put your index finger to your lips, thinking of anything to say. That’s when you remember what Taehyung said to you days ago.

“What is the flaw that they see?”

“I don’t even know. They won’t even tell me.”

Taehyung did mention that Jungkook is the youngest and isn’t treated well. Knowing his background and his mother, he might not have the respect he deserves from his older brothers.

“Maybe...your plan is fine? But they don’t want to acknowledge it?”

He raises an eyebrow. “And how would you know that it’s alright? You didn’t read it.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Just a guess. I mean, you’re a king for a reason. You were able to map out a way to my homeland without trouble, and then you took care of those pirates.”

Because Jungkook doesn’t know that you’ve been informed of his backstory, he looks at you with a questionable expression. A sweat drops, worried that he might’ve figured out that you stole the picture of his mother. You haven’t returned it yet, and it’s making you anxious.

“Whether I’m a king or not, my older brothers see me as incompetent,” he leans back. “No matter what I do, they don’t believe that I’m meant to become king.”

“Why is that so?”

“Well, for starters, I’m the youngest, and that already sets me at a disadvantage. Not only that, I—” Jungkook stops abruptly, losing his train of thought. “Never mind. There’s no point in diving deep into this topic.”

If only he knew what you knew, then he would know how sympathetic you feel for him. Selling your body for money may not be the most well-respected career path, but a mother is still a mother. What she did to support her and Jungkook prior to moving into the castle should not be forgotten.

Thinking about your mother, you may not remember her face anymore, but you don’t let the memories of her die out. She died when you were still very young, but that doesn’t excuse you to forget everything that she did in the short time that you’ve spent with her, and those are irreplaceable.

“You know...sometimes it’s nice to talk to somebody about your problems. It’s not whether or not they can solve it, but just for others to know the troubles that you’re going through. You’re not expecting much, only for them to lend an ear,” you clutch onto the pearl necklace, smiling faintly as you stare blankly into space. “You saw me talking to my mother’s tombstone, right? Talking about my day is heals my mind of all the stress that I go through daily.”

Thinking about your mother’s grave, picturing your father and the villagers, it truly makes you homesick. If only you can see the palm trees again, listen to the chirps of the colorful birds that fly across the sky, and the beauty of the ocean right under a bright, blue sky. But you swallow back your homesickness. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.

“My mother died a long time ago to protect me.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, completely surprised with your openness.

“When I was a child, there was an invasion by another group of pirates, stealing our crops and pillaging our village. While everything was perishing, my mother hid me, making sure that the bloodline doesn’t end with me. By the time the invaders got what they needed and left, most of the children my age was killed off. That’s why I’m the only person who’s around my age.”

It hurts going back to that time. It was hard for everybody, especially with your father. Not only did his people suffer a lot, but he also lost this beloved wife. He was broken for years, and he’s still healing from it to this day.

“Even though my mom died long ago, I still talk to her. I know she’s dead, but speaking to her like she’s listening to everything I’m saying, it’s so relieving. So...if you ever feel stressed, it’s always good to release it. It doesn’t have to be me, but your reflection or anything you’re comfortable with.”

With his lack of response, you aren’t sure if he agrees with you or not. It sounds silly, but it definitely has helped you when coping with difficult situations. You’re already choking on your tears, swallowing the lump in your throat. To avoid crying in front of him, you think of something else to talk about.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk about myself. You’re the one who’s going through a tough time.”

He looks away, staring intensely at the blanket. “No...I was unaware of that. If you like, you can leave now.”

You’re surprised he said it in a calm manner. It almost sounds as if he acknowledged what you said and is letting you leave out of courtesy. You clear your throat, patting the back of your dress as you walk off.

“Very well, just holler for me if there’s anything you need.”

He barely nods, and you look back one more time before leaving.

———

Despite that being the longest you’ve ever spoken to Jungkook, nothing spectacular happened after that. You were somewhat expecting a turn in your relationship, but it’s as steady as it’s always been.

Jungkook has gotten better to where he can walk around. However, he still can’t do the activities that he did before, so most of the time, he walks around the castle, looking around as if he were a tourist. You’ve been watching him from afar, spying on him to see what he does, but nothing out of the ordinary happens.

Today is the same routine with you having to serve him dinner. However, when you enter, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Mild panic sets in, and you start to worry about where he could have gone. You set down the tray, calling his name while searching the entire room.

You walk out of the room, looking all around the hallway for any trace of him. A servant walks by, and you grab her by the shoulder. She didn’t notice you at first, so it made her flinch.

“Your Highness! Is there anything you need?”

“Do you know where the king is?”

“Ah, yes. His Majesty went to the garden. I may be wrong, but he went to check on the shipments for the exotic fruits.”

You smile, letting her know that you’re thankful before rushing to the backyard.

———

Appearing before you is the small shack where the dragon fruit seeds and fruits are hidden. The door is slightly ajar, so you peek in there, leaning over to double-check that Jungkook is in there. Just as the servant claims, he’s crouching over, digging his hand into a sack of black dragon fruit seeds. Wrapped around his shoulders is a thin blanket.

He looks tranquil, feeling the sensation of hundreds of seeds tickling his hand. It’s moments like these that remind you that Jungkook is barely into adulthood, yet he has so many responsibilities on his shoulders. You can’t imagine what goes through his mind, knowing the countless things that he has to keep in check.

You made the mistake of misstepping, making a slight kick to the door. This alerts Jungkook, shooting his head up to make eye contact with you. You avert your eyes, biting your bottom lip as you look away in embarrassment.

“No need to hide. Come here.” He waves his hand, signaling for you to enter.

You timidly stride inside, somewhat taken aback that Jungkook would let you inside. You don’t know if he’s going to let you stand next to him. You crouch down, staring at the seeds, wondering what it is that’s so intriguing to him.

“I tried doing what you said,” Jungkook begins. “And it doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t work?”

“Talking to inanimate objects. I feel like an insane person. I feel more comfortable talking to somebody.”

It’s not surprising that Jungkook thinks so. If anything, it’s astonishing that he even made an attempt. He scoops a handful of seeds, then to let it pour in between his fingers.

“Have the plants been growing well?”

“Yes, it’s been slow, but still growing.”

“...That’s nice. There was a myth that there’s a one out of a million chance that one of the dragon fruits will actually grow a dragon egg. Is that true?”

You raise an eyebrow, having never heard of that before. “Where did you hear that from?”

“I heard it from many people. Your island is famous through word, but no one has ever gone there to prove it.”

If you had a closer relationship with him, then you would tease him for believing a false myth like a child would. It makes you wonder if he actually went as far as to travel to your island just to see if that tale is true.

“I’m sorry about looking down on your mother.”

Your turn your head to him so fast that your neck almost snapped. For a second, you thought your ears were playing tricks on you. It’s baffling to comprehend that Jungkook has just apologized.

“It was very immature of me to speak about somebody who I’ve never met before, so I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

What was it that made him have a change of mind so suddenly? Could it have actually been what you said? You aren’t sure, but what you are sure is that something within him changed. Someone whom you thought is as cold as stone is opening up.

“Also...thank you for taking care of me these past few days and...dealing with me despite my stubbornness.”

Upon hearing that, you notice Jungkook’s ears turning red, cheeks flushed with red as well.

“I’ve never eaten a dragon fruit before,” He quickly changes the topic. “Does it taste good?

Saving his pride, you decide not to make a comment about his apology. You even pretend that he never said it. “What do you mean, ‘does it taste good?’ It’s one of the best! Not only is the color eye-catching, but the taste is also jaw-dropping!”

Your vague description doesn’t convince Jungkook enough. He raises an eyebrow, acting as if he had just heard a child talking. You try thinking of other ways to express it, but your vocabulary doesn’t stretch that far. That’s when you have an idea.

“Do we have any of the fruits from the most recent shipment?”

He points to the corner of the room. You stand up, dashing to inspect the fruits piled on each other in a large wooden box. With the lack of proper care, it’s not a surprise when you see that the fruits have become a bit old. You dig through it, praying that you’d find one that’s not bruised nor old, and your prayers are heard when you manage to find one that’s still in good condition.

You grin, showing him the fruit as he slowly walks up to you. “Here we go. Try this one.”

He takes it from your hand, rotating it around, having no clue what to do with it. “How do I…?”

He looks up from the fruit, staring at you with eyes as big as a baby’s. You want to giggle, but it’s too rude to do. You take it from his hand, looking for a small knife, managing to find one sitting on a table. You steady the blade onto the center of the fruit, slicing it in half. You open it, revealing the white flesh from within.

You return it to him, this time, after assisting him in opening the fruit. “Tell me how it tastes.”

Still not knowing how to eat it but not wanting to rely on you a second time, Jungkook digs his fingers into the fruit, scooping a small handful. He takes a bite, and his eyes enlarge once it’s in his mouth. You knew immediately what his reaction is.

“Tastes good, right?”

Jungkook nods his head. “Do you want some?”

“No, it’s okay-”

Without getting the chance to finish your sentence, Jungkook puts it into your mouth. The taste of the fruit reminds you of your home, and a wave of homesickness overwhelms you again. You remember the first time you had a dragon fruit when you were a toddler—that sweetness overwhelming your mouth, the small crunches of the black seeds—eating it at the table with your parents and grandmother. The smile on your mother’s face , your father’s booming laughter, and your grandmother cutting the fruits into smaller cubes.

Where has the time gone?

It never really hit you how much you miss your home—how lonely you feel. Every day, you feel like an outsider here. Even though you’re Jungkook’s wife, you don’t feel treated like one, and when people are respectful, there’s an obvious gap. You want to go home. You want to see your family again, under the tropical sun and sitting under the palm trees’ shades. You don’t want to be here anymore.

Before you know it, you’re already sobbing. You chuckle to lighten the mood, using your palms to wipe the tears away. But the tips of your lips tremble when you try smiling, and you choke on the lump in your throat. You managed to keep a strong face for the months you’ve been here, but you can’t hide it anymore, even if Jungkook is next to you. The more you think about your home, the more you cry. Within seconds, you lose that smile, breaking down entirely.

To your surprise, Jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling him close to his shoulder. You rest your head on his shoulder, pausing your cry momentarily before continuing. He pats your back, and although his comforting is stiff, he’s trying his hardest. He doesn’t say anything, unsure of what to say since he’s never have to comfort somebody before.

You want to go home…

But you know you can’t.

[End of Part 1]

Part Two here

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for ending this until the end! I appreciate every single one of you reading it, and everyone is welcome to leave a message or comment of any kind ^^. I’ll be making part 2 soon, so in the mean time, have a great day!!

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pbandjesse · 3 years

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I feel weirdly emotional tonight. I dont know why. Its not even a bad day, I think Im just beat from being in the car all day yesterday. I am excited to go to bed.

We got home last night and unpacked everything. James put food away and I put away the stuff. I got a shower and that made me feel a little better. And soon enough we went to bed.

I had very strange dreams, but I slept good. I woke up as James was getting ready to go on his long bike ride. And I laid in bed for a while. My eyes were feeling swollen, and I was having weird allergy issues all day. But it would come and go.

I got dressed and had one of the donuts Noelle and Evan got for us. I played a little animal crossing but I was just feeling a little distracted and so I put on a podcast and did some sewing.

I love the huge sweatshirt my brother got me but honestly it was a little to long. Like on most people its down to their thighs or knees, but on me its almost touching the ground!! So I decided I would cut it, and then I would even have very soft fabric for making bears. Exciting.

I took the pocket off first. And then laid the whole thing out and cut it. I am very pleased. I spent like two hours on the couch embroidering a blanket stitch around the raw edge. And its great. SweetP also loves it and he keeps making bread on me and chewing on it. Silly boy.

James texted me that he would be home around 1. So I finished doing the embroidery and then got to cleaning. I tidied up and vacuumed. I opened the windows to get some new air in here. And then just hung out on the couch working on practicing crochet.

It is going better. I am not very good at making rows, but I am good at making circles? I started and restarted like 4 times but once James was home I started a circle and knocked it out so fast I was really excited. I figured out how to make some interesting shapes and I hope to keep practicing and maybe do something with this. I dont know! Its nice to have something to do with my hands, and it doesnt hurt my back.

James sat on the couch for a while. Had a coffee and a donut. And then he was off again. He went and took our recycling to the center, and got quarters for laundry, and picked us up a late lunch.

I kept working on the crochet. But soon enough I went and laid in bed.

Once James came home we ate lunch together in the living room. But I was feeling really tired and so I went back to bed. I mostly just watched videos for a while but I did sleep for an hour. James came in right after I woke up. I mostly laid there and played on my phone for a while. I just felt a little down.

I took a shower and washed my hair but it didnt help. My hair actually felt worse?? Well see if it feels better once its dry. I am laying in bed trying not to be upset. I just sort of have a head ache. I think Im just tired. I hope tomorrow is a better day. I hope you all are having a good time and have fun tomorrow. Goodnight you guys. Sleep good.

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animeniacss · 3 years

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A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 23 - Coming for a Visit

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.2k words

Chapter 23 - Coming for a Visit

Taehyung took the entire day off from work, and god did he forget what it felt like to be unemployed! He forgot what it felt like to sit on the couch and not have to worry about getting back up to sprint to the station before missing the train to work. He had long since forgotten the feeling of falling asleep on his couch in the middle of the day, waking up when he felt like only to retreat into his bedroom and do the same thing. There was a time when Taehyung did this almost every day, and damn well enjoyed it. But now? He had only been home for barely half of a day and he wanted to rip his hair out! Time ticked by as if it was being drowned in molasses, each second that passed felt as if an entire eternity flew by. Jimin had stayed until the final train departed, but even then, Taehyung wasn’t advised to watch TV, for fear it would hurt his eyes – which it did – but that just left Taehyung laying in bed with ice on, his phone shuffling his musical playlists as he lied like a stiff rock against a bustling stream.

When Jimin finally left, it only got worse. Jimin put prepared food in the microwave for Taehyung to make as needed, and he did, standing silently in his dark kitchen, the faint glow of the microwave light enough to give his head a dull throb.

“How was I so used to this all the time?” he groaned to himself. “And I have to stay home again tomorrow? As if…” When the microwave beeped, Taehyung pulled out his slightly toasted leftovers and plopped himself down at his kitchen table. Taehyung set the slightly melting bag of ice on the table, and the sensation that came with the removal of ice just left Taehyung feeling some sort of numbness. He ate in silence, the only noise coming from the shuffled playlist he had left on his bedroom dresser and didn’t pick up, in fear the light would blind him and cause the pain in his head to swell once again. “I can’t wait to go back to work.” Hearing himself say that made him almost laugh, and he leaned back in his seat. “Never thought I’d hear myself say that one…”

The food alone was enough to make him sleepy. Or maybe it was the sense of doing nothing that tired his body so much, it felt as if he had run a marathon somehow. He headed back into his room, closed the door behind him, and fell asleep to the sound of the music playing faintly in the background.

--------------------------------------------

“Taehyung will be out for a few days, hm?” Namjoon asked you the next morning. You nodded as you took hold of Kai’s belongings, setting them into his cubby as he ran off to his friends. It was overcast today; both you and Hoseok making the executive decision to greet the children inside.

“Oh, yes. Luckily, the concussion was pretty mild but Seokjin said he should take a few days and then get clearance from the urgent care to come back.” Namjoon nodded, fixing his glasses. “Thank you for helping him yesterday. I’m worried, I’ll admit. He got hit really, really hard. Plus, the back of his head hitting the pavement?”

“He’s lucky he only got out with a minor concussion,” Namjoon said simply. “Jimin said when he went to visit that Taehyung spent most of his time resting in bed, so I’m sure he will recover soon.” You nodded.

“Thank you again.” You smiled up at him. Namjoon nodded, feeling his cheeks heat up as he stared at your smile. He nodded, stepping back a bit. He misgauged his step, bumping into the corner of one of the tables, and wincing. “Ow.” You chuckled.

“Not you too. Everyone needs to stop getting injured.” Namjoon smiled at your comment.

“Well, if it means you’ll be around to take care of me, I might not be able to pass up the offer.” Namjoon cooed. At that moment, time stood still. You felt your ears get hot, and you had to cover your mouth with your hand, quickly averting your eyes. Namjoon smiled a bit, before glancing behind you, in the direction of his son. He saw a glimpse of Kai sitting and coloring with a few friends. However, he also saw Hoseok looking directly at him. Despite wearing a bright yellow and blue work apron with the school’s name on it as well as a smiling sun, and what seemed to be a colorful shirt behind it, Namjoon had to admit that he was spooked when he saw the dark, intense stare looking back at him from across the room. A hard gulp went down his throat, but the glare remained. When he blinked, he hoped that alone would remove the image of a scary Jung Hoseok from his view, however, he had no luck. He was still there, glaring in disapproval at Namjoon’s comment. “Uh…sorry.” Namjoon chuckled shyly, finally glancing back down at you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” You choked out, forcing you to nod your head politely. Namjoon smiled, stepping backward and turning on his heel, exiting the room. A shaky sigh escaped your lips, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest just thinking about Namjoon’s comment.

Was he trying to gain some kind of advantage without Taehyung around? You thought to yourself. No, he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy. But still, he could have worded that differently!

“You okay?” a high-pitched voice hummed from across the room. You turned your head to see Hoseok walking over to you, a calm smile on his face. When he saw you nod and smile back, he grinned. “Good!”

“I think I’m going to visit Taehyung today.” You said softly, and Hoseok’s grin faltered slightly. “After school, after we clean.” Hoseok nodded.

“Okay, that sounds nice.” He smiled happily, and both of you got to work cleaning the kids up and getting them to their seats to prepare for the upcoming day ahead of them.

The entire day, you felt a bit weird. At first, you thought it was because of Namjoon’s flirtatious comment, but it was soon you realized what was truly lingering in the back of your mind. You and Hoseok both noticed it walking to and from the gym area, when you turned in the direction of Taehyung’s art room and poked your head in the little window that looked inside. Hoseok was sure to make note of it, but you only brushed it off with the simple comment that ‘it’s been a while since the room was uninhabited like this…’

That comment was true, sure, but the idea that Taehyung wasn’t right down the hall, ready to engage in playful banter or calm conversation sat weirdly in the pit of your stomach. Even if he was here, and neither of you shared a glance, knowing he was just down the hall gave you comfort as both a coworker and a friend….

Friend. The word friend was never really a term you thought you’d use to describe your relationship with Taehyung. Even now, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue using that label in the future. It was all too much, and you knew going to visit him may just complicate those feelings stirring up in the cauldron that is your stomach. However, you wanted to, if for no other reason than he was a coworker…and a friend.

“You want me to come?” Hoseok asked curiously as he watched you slip your jacket on and pull your hair out and over your shoulders.

“No, I won’t be staying long. I just want to go and see if he needs anything for the next few days.” Hoseok nodded.

“Okay. But if it’s to bad to walk home with the weather, call me and I’ll come get you, okay?” You nodded, smiling as you gave him a jovial tap on the back.

“Bye.” You waved, before heading out the door and in the direction of the train station. As you walked, you felt your hands rubbing together frantically. You weren’t nervous, you’d been to his house already. However, they felt empty, as if something was supposed to be clutched inside of them, and without that something, it felt incomplete.

As you walked to the station, you passed a bakery, and immediately knew what you could do to fill up your hands upon arrival at Taehyung’s apartment.

--------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe a swing hit you in the head. Were you even paying attention?” Taehyung scowled at the condescending tone that came through his speakerphone, dripping from the tongue of his one and only mother.

“I was. I looked away for a second.” He scoffed. Mentally, he was cursing Jimin for telling his mother about the injury in the first place, because now he was stuck being reprimanded, which Taehyung would argue was worse than the actual injury itself.

“Right, okay.” His mother scoffed. “You’re lucky Jiminie told me what happened. I cannot believe you would hide such a serious injury from your mother.”

“Well gee, Mother.” Taehyung began. “I just speak to you so often nowadays that our routine conversations were already so jam-packed, I couldn’t fit it in.” His mother once again, let out a scoff.

“Don’t have an attitude with me, Mister.” She demanded. “Maybe that clock to the noggin was enough to knock some sense into you. You won’t be going to your little art show coming up, now will you?”

“What?” Taehyung forced himself to sit up now, and turn to his phone that sat on his dresser as if his mother could see his movements. “Mom, I’m still going. Besides, the show isn’t even for my work. It’s for the kid I’m teaching.”

“A preschooler?”

Taehyung snorted at his mother’s attempt at a joke, though he wasn’t the least bit amused. “No Mother, a high schooler I met who babysits one of the kids I work with.”

“Right, right. And you think that’s a wise choice to go when you’re so fragile?”

“It’s a minor concussion, not a gunshot wound,” Taehyung said simply. “I need to go. I’m getting a headache.”

“Mm…” was this the only thing his mother said. Taehyung sighed, quickly hanging up the phone and falling back onto the bed. His head once again, had a dull throb, one that beat between his eyes like a painfully melodic drum, and it made him groan. Painkillers only did so much for him, and the ice was starting to hurt more than it was helping. As lied there, eyes closed and mind trying desperately to find somewhere else to go – anywhere but here where this dull pain lies – he heard a knock on the door. “Okay, who is that?” He grumbled. Peeling himself off of the bed like a sticker that had been pressed down a little too tight, he dragged himself into the main room. “Coming.” He called, before walking to the door. He opened the door, looking down to see you were staring straight ahead. “Oh…” he blinked. “Hey.” Greeting him with a smile, you raised your hands and held up to show a small, wrapped box of snacks.

“I brought you some dessert.” You said happily. Taehyung accepted the box, holding it in his hands as he admired the white and pink trim, and the cursive written name on the front. “Just something I passed on the way here.”

“Wow, thanks…” he said. “Do you uhm…want to come in?” You nodded, and Taehyung led you inside, closing the door behind him. “How’re things without me?”

“The kids miss you like crazy.” You admitted, turning to him as you stepped further into the house. “They keep asking when you’ll be feeling better.”

“Soon, hopefully.” He sighed. “I never realized how boring it can be sitting home all day.”

“God, I’d kill for a day like that.” You admitted, and both of you laughed. “I’m glad you’re doing better, though.” Taehyung nodded, rubbing the back of his head. “Do you need me to do anything while I’m here?”

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow at the offer. “What? No, I’m just fine.” He hummed. You pouted, unconvinced. “I think everyone is taking this a bit too seriously. I’m okay.”

“You hit your head pretty hard. I think you should still take it easy for another day or so.” Motioning to the couch, you smiled. “I can make us tea or something, and we can have a snack?” Though your voice was gentle, there was a slight firmness in it, the teacher-voice peeking through to say that Taehyung really did not have much of a choice. He sighed, sitting down on the couch and turning the TV on. He closed his eyes, only listening to the sounds and not looking directly at the light because he knew the minute he did, his head would start to hurt again. Instead, he turned his head to the kitchen, watching as you headed in. He could only see a small portion of his kitchen from his spot, so occasionally you would pop from behind a wall with the tea kettle in hand, setting it onto the stove to heat up. While you waited, he watched you shuffle towards some of the cabinets, opening them to try and find the cups, and the tea bags. “I hope you like muffins. I heard these from the bakery are pretty good!”

“Sounds good.” Tae’s eyes fell towards the box that he had placed on the coffee table. The idea that you had brought him a snack on top of visiting him when he was injured made his heart do backflips inside his chest. The idea that you were inside his kitchen making tea with the intention to take care of him…well, that just made him want to ascend to the highest plane of heaven.

It wasn’t long before the tea was done, and Taehyung watched you come back beside him with two cups of tea. You set it down and quickly scurried back into the kitchen. A bit more fumbling occurred, and Taehyung could hear plates clattering together. Moments later, when you arrived with two small plates, he had to chuckle in amusement.

“You thought of everything.” He said in amusement, leaning back to watch as you sat down beside him. He was quick to flip open the box of muffins, immediately hit with a warm smell of various scents. Chocolate chip, blueberry, oatmeal raisin, banana nut, every flavor that poked Taehyung’s nose buds only made him happier. “These smells so good, wow.” He gasped, quickly grabbing the chocolate chip muffin. You watched him rip a piece off the top and pop the snack into his mouth. Hearing the sigh of relief made you smile in content. “Yum.” He was quick to pass the box in your direction. “Have one.” He said though it sounded more like a playful demand. Without hesitation, you reached for one of the muffins and quickly took a bite as well. “Thanks for these.” He said again.

“I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.” You admitted sheepishly, smiling. “Besides, clearly it’s cheered you up.” You said happily. Taehyung nodded. For a few moments, the both of you sat and chatted about the past two days at work, what has happened and how the kids have been. You were quick to share a funny story regarding art that had Taehyung suppressing a laugh.

“Come on, please tell me you’re kidding.”

“No! This is what I made!” You had to lower the brightness of the phone, but you still showed Taehyung the picture of the paper plate fish that the students were supposed to model. “And I thought I could use the glitter but…” Quickly swiping to the next photo, Taehyung snorted as he looked at a picture of Yeonjun and Ryujin sitting in a pile of sprinkled glitter as if it was some sort of colorful snow. Hoseok was taking the picture because you were too busy frantically panicking in the background of the photo. A few other children’s various limbs and heads poked into the picture’s edges, but Yeonjun and Ryujin were the main focus, in all of their chaotic glory. Taehyung had to snort again, quick to zoom into your face in the back.

“This is classic, wow!” You felt your face get hot and you pulled the phone away from the giggling Taehyung.

“Alright, alright…” you chuckled. “But other than that, it was a pretty peaceful day.” Taehyung snickered again, covering his mouth and looking away. You leaned back, taking a long sip of your tea as you waited for Taehyung to stop his little giggle fit. “I’m so…so sad I missed that.”

“Well, here’s to coming back soon.” You smiled happily. Taehyung looked at you, and just one glimpse at your sparkling face made him break out into his own grin.

“You shouldn’t smile like that around me.” He admitted, eyes cast down to his lap. You could see his cheeks dusting pink, as well as the tips of his ears that poked out of his hair. “I can’t focus my brain too much on painting right now; gives me a headache.” The sudden comment made you smile a bit, and you popped another piece of your already half-eaten muffin into your mouth. Taehyung glanced over at you quickly. “Sorry, was that too much?”

Immediately, you remembered Namjoon’s comment from earlier in the morning, and your smile wavered only slightly. Taehyung seemed to notice and quickly turned to face you. “Was it?” he asked again, softer this time. His deep voice made your heart speed up, and you had to look down at your hands in a desperate attempt not to lose your cool!

“N-no!” You assured quickly. “It was cute.” Wanting to assure him that was true, you looked up at him and smiled. “You know it flatters me that you like to sketch and paint me.” Taehyung nodded.

“I know, but since you told Namjoon and I that you wanted time to-.” Taehyung’s lips immediately pursed, and his lips tightened, brows furrowed together as he seemed to quickly lose himself in thought. “He hasn’t tried anything funny, has he? Without me around?”

“Uh…n-no.” you said quickly. “Well…” you sighed. “He kind of made a comment like you did; unintentionally. And, as you did…he apologized for it because of…you know…all of this stuff going on.” Taehyung nodded. There was a question Taehyung had brewing in his chest, one he had wanted to ask for a while but was too scared of the consequences if he did. Taking another look at you, he watched you reach down and grab hold of your teacup, taking a sip.

Now is as good a time as any. He thought to himself. I should ask…

When Taehyung began speaking, you quickly looked up at him. “Has he kissed you yet?” The words practically fell out of his mouth, so quickly in fact that you had to go back in your mind and play them over again. Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, holding it in his dark locks as he waited for an answer. “You two have gone out together a lot more than we have…so I just thought that-.”

“Yes.” You said quickly. You could see Taehyung’s chest expand and decrease as he took in a deep breath, and you had to chew on your lower lip a bit.

“Oh.” He hummed, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I figured as much.” You watched him slowly rest his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. “I thought somehow I would have been the first one. Guess I’m at a disadvantage there.” His eyes cast over to you, and he smiled.

Trying to diffuse, the situation before the somber tone in the room began to set, you smiled. “You wouldn’t really want to kiss Namjoon. He doesn’t seem like your type.” Taehyung’s tongue poked against the inside of his lip, and both of you began to laugh, the noise brushing away the somber cloud above your heads like light winds pushing away the dark, stormy clouds in the sky.

Taehyung snickered a bit, rubbing his temple. “Fuck, my head is killing me.” He grumbled. You quickly rose out of your seat, smoothing out your skirt. Taehyung glanced up at you. “Hm?”

“Where’s the ice packs and pain killers?” You asked curiously. Taehyung motioned to the kitchen, and you only smiled. “Wait right here, okay?” Before Taehyung could even nod his head yes, you headed into the kitchen once again, taking your empty teacup with you to set in the sink. In the freezer, you grabbed an ice pack and wrapped it in a cloth, along with the pain killers that sat right on the counter. When you headed back into the living room, Taehyung had already lied himself down on the couch, closing his eyes. “I’m starting to think this concussion was a bit more than just minor if it’s still hurting.”

“Minor head injuries are still pretty severe.” Taehyung pointed out, his eye-poking out from behind the arm he draped across them. You handed him the pills, which he quickly took, and followed with a sip of his tea. You knelt down on the side of the couch, gently moving his arm and replacing it with the pack. Taehyung let out a deep exhale as the cool sensation of the pack raced across his body, and you simply chuckled a bit.

“It’s not that bad. Don’t be dramatic.”

“The cold is never going to be something I get used to.” He admitted. Once again, you couldn’t help but giggle. “Thank you for coming to see me, though.” He cooed gently. “It made me feel a bit better today.”

“I’m glad I could help.” You responded. “But I should probably go. Namjoon told me about Jungkook’s first art show, and I know you’ll want to go too, so rest up!” Taehyung nodded, watching as you turned around to grab the rest of the empty dishes, Taehyung tried to stop you, insisting he would do it later, but you would have none of it, and carried the plates into the kitchen, giving them a quick wash and setting them in the proper cabinets. With all of that set, you headed back toward Taehyung, who was standing up, the ice pack still pressed firmly to his head. “Hey. You need to-.”

“Let me at least walk you to the door.” His plea sounded more like a statement, and you pouted a bit but decided not to argue it. The both of you made your way to the door, and you slid on your shoes as well as your coat. “Get home safely.” He stated simply. You turned to him and nodded, smiling happily. Taehyung blinked, watching as you slowly buttoned up your coat, your eyes focused on what seemed too small and slightly difficult buttons attempting to fit into even smaller holes. It made him chuckle.

“I wish I could kiss you right now.” Taehyung thought.

Well, he thought he had thought. As a matter of fact, the minute he saw your hands stop mid-button, he knew that he in fact did not think those words in the safety of his mind, but instead said them out loud. In the open. In front of you. You turned to him, and that was when the panic set in. His face heated up, and no amount of ice could ever cool him down. “I mean, I mean I….”

“…Really?” you asked softly. Taehyung blinked. “Do you mean that?”

“…Yes.” He said softly. “I do.” You let out a gentle breath, and Taehyung once again felt like it was time to panic. However, this time, no words wanted to come out. He stood like a deer in headlights, and at that moment, he felt like he was dreaming.

“…Okay.” You said softly. Taehyung blinked, not even realizing that his hand holding the ice pack loosened, and dropped to the floor. “Maybe I shouldn’t, maybe this is wrong of me, but….” You looked at him, and as he stared at your bright eyes, he felt his heart swell. “Okay…” Taehyung stepped closer to you.

“Are you sure?” he asked. You nodded, continuing to look up at him. Taehyung could see some of the space between the two of you closing, but he couldn’t tell if he was the one closing it, or you were, or both. However, that was the last thing on his mind. He felt as if he was going to wake up any second, in his bed, his head pounding tirelessly as he came to reality with the fact that this was a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream, and Taehyung had to bring himself back to reality at that moment. He looked down at you, staring at and admiring all of your features up close. The way your nose curved, the way your eyes sparkled even in the dimly lit room, the way you chewed your lip, just as outwardly nervous as he was right now. He couldn’t wait any longer, and he quickly leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips. He had no intentions for it to belong, or intimate, but he wanted it to mean something. He wanted you to be able to remember it.

The moment you felt Taehyung leaned forward and press his lips against yours, you weren’t shocked like you were with Namjoon. You weren’t completely thrown for a loop; you weren’t taken by surprise. Despite that, at that moment, you felt your stomach doing flips and jumps into your throat. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your knees were feeling weak. Everything in that moment felt…different. It felt good. You didn’t know where your hands should go at first, gripping tightly onto your jacket. However, when Taehyung’s hands lifted up to cup your cheeks, your hands followed suit, resting on top of his. There had been a few times Taehyung had taken your hand, but only now you found yourself really getting a feel for how big they were in comparison to yours. Before you could begin to feel exactly what they were like, Taehyung pulled back a little bit. He was far enough to allow you both to breathe but also close enough to keep you in his optimal line of vision. He could see how flustered you had become, and he knew he looked the same in your eyes.

A breathless chuckle managed to escape both of your lips, mingling together between you. Despite the distance between you, Taehyung’s hands were still holding your cheeks, and your hands resting on top of them as well.

“...I should get going…” you said softly, finally taking the moment to step back. Taehyung’s hands fell to his sides and you quickly finished buttoning up your jacket. “I’ll see you in a few days.” You smiled sweetly. Taehyung nodded, waving you off as you finished gathering your belongings. With one final turn to Taehyung, you nodded your head politely. “Bye.”

“Bye…” Taehyung hummed, waving you off as you headed down the hall and towards the elevator. Taehyung waited until you were in the elevator, doors shutting behind you before he even remembered to close his own door. When he was alone in the apartment, everything hit him all at once. His legs had finally relaxed, unknowingly being stiff the entirety of the kiss, and as soon as they relaxed, they gave out on him and sent him onto the floor. His back rested against the wall, and he was quick to cover his face with his hands and felt a grin break out behind them. He could feel that dull, monotonous pain in the back of his head once again, but this time, he could barely focus on it, because the pounding in his heart was far rougher.

In the elevator, you were quick to collapse into a ball, hugging your knees as you clamped a hand over your mouth. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, in your ears, in your brain. It felt like at any moment, it would explode out of your body and you had no way to bring it back in! You thought about what had just happened, about the feelings mixing up inside you, about what on earth these feelings meant for the future.

You were wondering if what happened only made your decision harder…or a whole lot easier.

----------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe it!” Jungkook gasped, looking around him at the wide-open park. Today was the day, his very first art show that was not at school, and he was pumped! The park was filled with other individuals who were trying to sell their hard work to others, trying to pique someone’s curiosity and be able to send someone home with a fun piece of furniture to talk about to their guests. People were hoping to get noticed by a big shot art producer, like they do in the movies, and go on to live a life as a wealthy artist, the very dream! Jungkook couldn’t really care about that last part, he was just excited to be here, with his art as the focus of his venue! He quickly turned to Taehyung, who was approaching him with a map in his hand and dragging a small cooler that had waters and snacks inside for them. “I’m so excited! We’re finally here!”

“It’s exciting.” Taehyung hummed, fixing his glasses. He had recovered from his concussion a few days ago and had gotten permission to return to work as soon as he was ready. And boy was he ready! He wanted to go back as soon as possible, especially now, at the promise of getting to see you again. He’d yet to get the kiss you both shared in his apartment the other day out of his mind, and the idea of seeing you again only excited him more! However, he knew that was something he needed to worry about another day. Today was for Jungkook and his art, not Taehyung’s puppy love. “Okay, so where are you supposed to be set up?”

“Oh!” The young boy’s eyes sparkled as he pointed down one of the paths. “This way!” Taehyung nodded, smiling as he followed Jungkook into the park.

While the two of them were preparing, several people were gathering around to see what people had to offer this time around, their wallet jingling with won in the hopes that they’ll find something today that will make their house feel a little more like home. Or at the very least, a cheap impulse buy that they can take home and show off for no reason other than “I thought it was cute!” Tons of people were there, and you were no exception. As you stepped in front of the entrance, surrounded by people, you took a deep breath. You hadn’t seen Taehyung since you were at his house, so the idea of possibly running into him made you feel nervous. A supportive tap came onto your shoulder, and you turned to see Hoseok, his blinding smile as wide as ever.

“Ready?” He asked. You nodded.

“Yeah, let’s go!”

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magnustesla · 4 years

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Kakairu Fanfic - If You Fall, I Will Catch You

Rating: Explicit

Content Warning: Mental health issues, explicit sex

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Cuddles, Injury Recovery, Non Penetrative Sex, Frottage, Rimming, Established Relationship, Light Angst, Panic Attacks

Short Chapter Excerpt: Iruka may have fallen back to sleep, lulled by the gentle sound of water running from Kakashi's shower but, it was not a pleasant sleep. He was plagued by a nightmare that felt like it was never ever going to go away, constantly stuck in a loop, replaying that fateful evening over and over as though he were trapped in a cruel genjutsu.

Fanart by @i-drive-a-nii-san

Read the whole fic below this cut:

The morning light trickled into the bedroom, creeping through the gap in the curtains, slowly making its way across Iruka's pillow, reflecting off his dark chocolate strands of hair before settling over his face as the morning sun rose up into the sky.

Iruka scrunched his eyes shut even tighter, pressing his face further into the pillow, trying to keep the sun out of his eyes. “Hmnn, too early. Kashi?” he mumbled quietly into his pillow. “Are you awake?”

No answer.

Turning his head, he looked over to where Kakashi slept, where he should be right now. Iruka furrowed his brows and just before he was about to start panicking, he heard the distinct sound of water running in the bathroom.

Calm down Iruka. He's just gone for a shower. You're okay and you're safe. He let out a breath that he didn't realise he was even holding and let the sound of running water calm his frayed nerves as he drifted back off to sleep.

****

Iruka may have fallen back to sleep, lulled by the gentle sound of water running from Kakashi's shower but, it was not a pleasant sleep. He was plagued by a nightmare that felt like it was never ever going to go away, constantly stuck in a loop, replaying that fateful evening over and over as though he were trapped in a cruel genjutsu.

Everything felt so real. The cool evening breeze blowing over his skin, the sharp sting of kunai biting into flesh. And the absolute horror and fear as he surged forward to cover Naruto as the giant fuma shuriken embedded itself into his spine.

And then, he screamed.

“Iruka…”

As he came to and realised he was being held down, panic set in. Iruka felt like he couldn't breathe, as though something was constricting around his chest getting tighter and tighter on each exhale. Where's Kakashi? H... He promised he'd always be here. A strangled sob escaped his throat and then the tears started to fall. All he could hear was the sound of his heart rapidly thumping and then… singing, a soft voice cut through the haze of panic and the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“Can you save me now? I am with you, I will carry you through it all.”

Iruka took a shuddering breath and felt calm washing over him. He knew that voice.

“I won't leave you, I will catch you, when you feel like letting go…”

He felt fingers carefully carding through his hair as he listened to that beautiful voice. Kakashi. He was with right there with Iruka, catching him and helping him through his trauma.

“Because you're not, you're not alone…,” Kakashi sang gently. “I'm here, Ru. Always.”

Turning his head towards the voice, Iruka looked through teary eyes and up into the face of his fiance who continued stroking his hair, smiling softly. Warmth flooded Iruka's veins upon seeing that smile, the panic and tension completely washing away, leaving his body feeling tired and absolutely wrung out.

“Kashi, I-” Iruka hiccuped, his hands clutching desperately at Kakashi's top. “I'm sorry.”

“Why are you apologising, Ru? You don't have anything to be sorry for.” Kakashi cupped Iruka’s face, gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs as they began to fall again. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

Iruka tried to push up onto his elbows, wanting a kiss but, the searing pain along his back stopped him in his tracks, making him wince.

“Iruka, stop moving. You might tear your incision if you haven't already. Lay still and let me look,” Kakashi ordered, pulling up Iruka's pajama top to expose the injury.

“Is it okay, Kakashi?” Iruka asked. He felt Kakashi tense up behind him, killing intent suddenly flooding the bedroom and then vanishing just as quick.

“Not quite,” he ground out, clearly trying to keep his voice level whilst he assessed the small amount of damage that Iruka had done during his panic attack. “The wound has reopened slightly in the middle but, the staples are still in place. I think I can heal it.” Bringing his hand directly over the wound, Kakashi let chakra flow to his hand, the green healing light of the mystical palm technique glowing softly as Iruka's skin started to knit back together.

Iruka fisted the bed sheets, a soft whine escaping his throat as he felt the healing jutsu taking effect. It had been four weeks since Mizuki had injured him and although it still hurt, the physical pain was much less than the emotional pain of betrayal. Mizuki had been his friend since they were kids and, while they had grown apart in recent years, he never once imagined that he would literally stab him in the back.

“I can hear you thinking. Stop blaming yourself, Ru. You couldn't have known that he would turn traitor. Thanks to you, Naruto is alive and safe.” Kakashi let the healing jutsu in his hand fade out. “All done. Please be careful, we don't need it opening up again.”

Kakashi pulled Iruka's pajama top back down and helped to carefully manoeuvre him over and onto his back, head propped up with soft feather pillows.

“Thanks, Kashi. Do you think Naruto is okay? I'm worried about him.”

“Maa, he's fine. I saw him yesterday at Ichiraku’s, stuffing his face. He told me to tell you that you need to get better quick so that you can take him out for ramen.”

Iruka chuckled and shook his head, a small smile gracing his tear-stained face. “Sounds about right.” And, at the mention of food, his stomach grumbled loudly.

“I'd hazard a guess that someone is hungry, ne?”

Iruka's face flushed fiercely and, try as he might, he couldn't will the blood away from his beet red cheeks. The more he tried to get his blush under control, the worse it got and before he knew it, his entire face and chest felt like it was on fire, burning with embarrassment.

A smile split Kakashi's face, both eyes crinkling in amusement. “Maa, no need to be so embarrassed. You never blush when you're enjoying me eating your-”

“Kakashi! Does your mind ever leave the gutter?”

Grinning, Kakashi shrugged his shoulders, adopting his usual slouch, and sauntered lazily out of the bedroom, heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

The faint clanging of plates and saucepans from the kitchen had Iruka drifting into his thoughts. He would never admit it but, he enjoyed Kakashi's teasing. The man was smart, funny, and very quick-witted; something that he really enjoyed in a partner. Iruka found that very few people stimulated his mind like Kakashi.

After his parents died, the Third Hokage had taken Iruka under his wing, teaching him about everything and anything. It kept his mind busy and helped him work through his crushing depression. It was also the reason Kakashi had come into his life; accidentally catching the teen ANBU in a complex trap that he'd learned from one of the scrolls that had been gifted to him. Iruka would forever be grateful for everything that the Hokage had done for him.

The bed dipped next to Iruka, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I made your favourite breakfast,” Kakashi said. “Miso soup, pan seared salmon and one of those oranges that you love. You know, from that little village on the border before The Land of Hot Water.” He slid the tray of food onto Iruka's lap and helped him sit up, carefully slinging an arm behind Iruka to take the strain off his still healing back.

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably starve.” Kakashi laughed, disappearing into back the kitchen and returning to sit next to Iruka with his own tray of food.

Iruka rolled his eyes and couldn't help but laugh, too. They ate in silence, Iruka occasionally stealing a sneaky glance at his fiance, eyes roaming across the pale skin on show. What did I do to deserve someone as special and beautiful as you? For as long as he was alive, Iruka fully intended to make sure that Kakashi knew how much he was loved and appreciated.

****

“It won’t stop, Kashi,” Iruka whined, desperately trying to contort himself in a way that would allow him to reach his back injury. The staples had been irritating his skin to the point where, if he could reach, he would have most likely scratched himself until he bled.

Kakashi tilted his head at Iruka’s comment, wordlessly asking him to elaborate.

“The itching,” Iruka said.

He continued frantically trying to reach behind himself when all of a sudden, calloused hands gripped his arms, tugging them both forward and pulling him against a solid chest. Iruka looked up to find to mismatched eyes glaring down at him in irritation. “I only healed that an hour ago, Ru,” Kakashi grumbled, his deep voice rumbling in obvious displeasure.

“Why couldn't Tsunade have just healed the entire thing with chakra? The staples are irritating and itching so much,” Iruka complained, pouting and looking every bit like a scolded child.

“You know why, Ru. It's better for your body to finish the rest of the healing rather than rely on chakra for the entire thing,” Kakashi said as he brushed Iruka’s hair back and placed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Iruka understood the reasoning. After all, he had spent a lot of time caring for Kakashi due to the number of injuries he had sustained over the years. But, despite that, being forced to rest, unable to do anything for himself was a huge loss of independence. Sure, Kakashi had been more than happy to help and seemed to enjoy fussing over him but, he couldn’t help feeling like a burden.

With a sigh, Kakashi released Iruka and leaned over to his side of the bed, rummaging through his nightstand. “Hmmm, where is it? I'm sure I put it in here,” he said, sounding irritated.

“Where’s what?” Iruka asked, trying to peek over Kakashi’s shoulder at what he was searching for.

“My jar of healing cream. Ah found it! Now, strip down to your underwear and get on your stomach,” Kakashi demanded, a small smirk on his face.

Iruka started pulling his clothes off, first sliding his sleep shorts down his thighs, then kicking them to the floor in a heap. He went to take his pajama top off but paused, his breath quickening. Kakashi had seen his body after being taken to hospital but, he'd mostly been covered by bandages. He had only seen Iruka's back for the second time this morning.

The night that Mizuki had attacked him, it hadn't just been with the giant fuma shuriken. Dozens of kunai, some poisoned, had pierced his skin, leaving behind many deep, red, angry scars that littered his entire body, especially his arms, stomach, and back. A few of the wounds had become necrotic from the poison, eating away at his flesh and needing debridement, leaving extensive scarring behind.

Iruka's mouth was suddenly very dry, his stomach lurching and breakfast threatening to make a reappearance. He knew what his body looked like now and had been disgusted by what he’d seen. What if Kakashi was disgusted, too?

His heart started racing, hands shaking and clutching at the hem of his pajama top as though it were his only lifeline. Suddenly, there were warm hands on his, gently easing his grip and lacing their fingers together.

“I could never be disgusted, Ru.”

Shit. Had he said that out loud?

“Scars don't matter. They are a part of you and there isn't anything about you that I don't love. You're beautiful to me and nothing will ever change that,” Kakashi whispered and brought Iruka's hand up to his mouth, lips brushing across his knuckles. He continued, pressing kisses to the scars along the inside of Iruka's forearm, right up to the inside of his elbow, hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin.

Iruka's breath hitched and his eyes fluttered shut, the sensation going straight to his groin. Never would he have thought that the inside of his elbow could be an erogenous zone. He opened his eyes to find Kakashi looking at him, gaze heated, clearly enjoying the reactions he was getting. Before Iruka could say anything, Kakashi gave a predatory grin, and suddenly there was a warm, wet, tongue tracing the crease of his elbow. “Fuck,” Iruka gasped. Kakashi had barely done anything to him, and already he was so hard that it was almost painful.

“Mmmm not just yet,” Kakashi said, voice thick with arousal. He placed a wet kiss to Iruka’s arm and pulled the top up and over his head, exposing Iruka’s gorgeous bronze skin. “On your stomach, now.”

Iruka didn’t need to be told twice and he settled down on his front, head resting on the pillow underneath. He could practically feel Kakashi’s gaze roving over his trembling body.

Kakashi leaned back on his knees, opened the jar and dipped his fingers in before returning it to the nightstand. He straddled Iruka's hips and carefully applied the cream, tracing the edges of the wound and making sure to be mindful of the staples holding the delicate skin together.

“It looks awful, doesn’t it?”

Sweeping Iruka’s long hair aside, Kakashi leaned forward and placed a kiss on his shoulder. “You could never-” Kakashi paused, kissing further down -”ever look awful.” He continued to place kisses down Iruka’s spine, pausing between each one to whisper all the reasons Iruka was beautiful.

Eager hands worked their way back up; sometimes gently tracing Iruka’s spine and other times, nails biting into unmarred flesh, raking down his sides followed by Kakashi’s tongue lavishing new scars. Being unable to see where Kakashi’s hands were, and where they would touch next, had Iruka on edge, his skin breaking out in goosebumps and his body quivering in anticipation.

It felt wonderful having Kakashi’s hands and tongue all over him, adding to the fire already burning, the heat simmering under his skin and curling low in his stomach. Before Iruka could stop himself he was pressing his hips into the mattress, desperate for a little friction to ease his aching cock.

“Someone's excited,” Kakashi teased, running his tongue along the shell of Iruka’s ear. He could feel Kakashi was hard as he began rolling his hips, pressing himself firmly against the cleft of Iruka’s ass.

Iruka was so turned on that he couldn't even begin to feel embarrassed as he reached one hand into his underwear, groaning as he took himself in hand.

They both rocked together on the bed, panting harshly; Iruka pushing his hips down into the mattress so he could grind into his hand and Kakashi straddling him, thrusting his clothed cock against Iruka's ass.

“Please, Kakashi,” Iruka begged, although he wasn't quite sure what for. All he could think about was how he was certain he'd burn up if he didn't get it.

Kakashi let out a groan and dropped forward onto both hands, his warm breath ghosting against the back of Iruka's neck. “We shouldn't,” he said. Although, his actions said otherwise, as he pulled Iruka's underwear off before sliding his own down, throwing them somewhere across the room along with his top and settled between Iruka's legs.

Iruka tried to push his hips back but, Kakashi pressed him back down into the mattress, gently spreading Iruka’s ass open and exposing him. He tried to voice his complaint but was silenced by the feeling of Kakashi's hot breath against his skin and then his tongue pressing firm, slow strokes against his entrance.

“Kashi!” Iruka gasped out, pushing back and fucking himself on Kakashi's tongue. “Just- fuck -needmoredeeper- ngh -yeslikethat.”

Kakashi spread Iruka's legs wider, his grip on Iruka’s ass almost bruising as he pressed his face closer, pushing his tongue deeper inside of Iruka's body and then used his lips to just suck.

Almost incoherent and sobbing with need, Iruka couldn't think beyond wanting Kakashi inside him. He so desperately wanted to be filled, stretched wide and to surrender to everything Kakashi had to give.

Kakashi pushed back onto his knees, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Leaning back over Iruka, he thrust his throbbing cock between Iruka's ass cheeks and groaned against his neck. “You feel so good, Ru. I could come just like this.” He continued to thrust against Iruka's body, panting into his shoulder before his teeth sunk in, causing Iruka to cry out. “On your back. Now.”

Impatient hands helped Iruka roll over and just as he opened his mouth to talk, he was silenced by Kakashi greedily pushing his tongue inside as though he meant to consume him.

Moaning into the kiss, Iruka wrapped his legs around Kakashi's waist and pulled him close, grinding their hips together, enjoying the push and pull of sweat-slick skin. Kakashi pulled his mouth away and growled into Iruka's throat. He opened his mouth, laving his tongue against Iruka's pulse and sucked a mark into his skin. “Mine,” he growled.

Iruka slid his hands up Kakashi's neck and into his wild hair, winding fingers into silver strands and yanking him up and into a bruising kiss, teeth clacking together in his desperation to devour Kakashi.

With reluctance, Kakashi pulled away from the kiss and started to slide down Iruka's body. He paid attention to a couple of new scars just below Iruka’s collarbone, gently tracing them with his fingertips.

An unexpected flick of Kakashi's tongue against his nipple had Iruka gasping and pulling Kakashi's head closer. He looked down just in time to see Kakashi suck his nipple between kiss bruised lips, the sensation sending a bolt of desire straight to his cock. Iruka's hands tightened in Kakashi's hair, but instead of complaint at the pain, it pulled a throaty moan out of him, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Iruka kept his tight grip on Kakashi's hair as though he was trying to anchor himself to something, anything, lest he float away. Wet kisses against heated flesh only served to fuel his desire as Kakashi continued working his way down, worshipping every new scar, slowly driving Iruka out of his head.

Hands gripped his hips and Iruka tilted them upwards, spreading his legs in wordless invitation. He took in a shuddering breath and gazed up at the sight before him - beautiful pale skin flushed pink and eyes blown wide in lust. Kakashi was so open like this, his body always honest even when he himself was not.

Reaching under his pillow, Iruka grabbed the lube and pressed the bottle into Kakashi's hand. “Please, I need you.”

He watched as Kakashi poured lube into his hand and shifted forward, their hard cocks brushing together as he wrapped a hand around them both, slicking them up and slowly stroking them together. Iruka gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white, enjoying the feeling of Kakashi's hand moving between their bodies.

Dropping forward onto one hand, Kakashi held himself above Iruka, lips almost touching and breaths mingling together.

Determined to pull some sounds from Kakashi, Iruka raked his nails down Kakashi's chest and tugged at both nipples, the action earning him a low groan, Kakashi stroking them harder, and picking up the pace.

“More,” Iruka choked out.

Suddenly Kakashi came to an abrupt stop, pulling one of Iruka’s hands down between them. He took the hint, curling his hand around Kakashi's. The sensation felt amazing and Iruka couldn't help but start pushing his hips up, Kakashi matching his thrusts, both fucking into their joined fists.

Trying to stifle a moan, Iruka looked up at Kakashi, desperately hoping that he was close.

He was hanging on by a thread and couldn't hold back much longer, the warmth curling low in his stomach threatening to consume him.

“I want to hear you,” Kakashi all but begged.

Curses fell from his lips followed by guttural moans, the sounds only serving to spur Kakashi on, his hips starting to lose any semblance of rhythm as he trembled above Iruka, drawing ever so close to the edge.

“I… I'm so close, fuck- ” Iruka whined, gripping them both together. - “Come for me, please, please. ”

Kakashi captured Iruka's lips in a wet and messy kiss, full of urgency as his hips started stuttering. Tracing the curve of his ass, Iruka pushed the pad of his thumb against Kakashi's entrance, enjoying the way he groaned into their kiss as he came with a grunt, his orgasm painting Iruka's scarred stomach and chest.

Seeing Kakashi come all over him was all it took to push Iruka over the edge. And then, he was coming, coming so hard it was almost painful, mouth falling open in a silent cry as his release joined Kakashi's upon his chest.

Iruka felt his entire body become boneless and suddenly he was fighting back a yawn. He looked up to find Kakashi smiling at him.

“That good, huh?” Kakashi asked, leaning in for a chaste kiss before pushing himself up and scooting to the side of the bed.

“Mmm, yes,” Iruka said. He hadn't felt this relaxed since some time before the graduation exams. Maybe Kakashi is right - sex is a good stress reliever. The thought had him snorting with laughter.

“What's so funny?” Kakashi said as he got up, heading towards the bathroom attached to their bedroom.

“Oh, nothing really. Just thinking about how you are slowly corrupting me,” Iruka called out. “You know, we were told not to have sex until my staples are out and I'm cleared by Tsunade.”

Kakashi returned with a warm, damp cloth and started to carefully clean off Iruka's chest and stomach. He was very mindful of a few scars that were still red, almost raw from slow healing. “Maa, you started it. And, who was I to say no?”

“Asshole.”

“But I'm your asshole,” Kakashi teased, joining Iruka back on the bed, pressing his naked body flush against Iruka's side and slinging an arm across his freshly cleaned chest.

Iruka huffed a laugh and turned to look at Kakashi. He would be forever thankful for how much Kakashi had supported him, even if at times he could be a little over the top, acting like a mother hen and fussing 24/7. Not that Iruka blamed him. He had almost died, after all the first 48 hours had been touch and go due to the severity of his spinal injury, blood loss and the poison coursing through his body, attacking vital organs.

Of course, he had no memory of this and could only go by what Kakashi and his friends had told him. But, according to them, he had crashed twice within an hour of being taken to the hospital. Shortly after, the medics had admitted they were out of their depth and needed help. The Third Hokage hadn't hesitated in sending a team out to locate Tsunade Senju. And thank Kami he had, because he wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for her unrivaled medical skill.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Huh? Wha- Oh. Nothing, Kashi.” Iruka said. “I'm fine.”

Kakashi arched a brow, giving Iruka a skeptical look. Iruka could tell that he wasn't buying it but was thankful that Kakashi never pushed. He'd talk when he was ready.

“Hmm, if you say so,” Kakashi replied, squeezing Iruka's hand. “C’mon, let's get up and dressed.”

****

“What do you want to watch, Kashi?” Iruka asked, voice carrying from the lounge into the kitchen where Kakashi was making coffee.

“I don't mind, Ru. Whatever you want to watch is fine by me.”

Iruka decided on one of the Icha Icha films. It wasn't really his sort of thing usually but, the storyline was light-hearted with some funny moments mixed in. Definitely nothing like the books that Kakashi read which were very explicit. He didn't think he would manage to watch the films without blushing and squirming in embarrassment if they had actually followed the books. Kakashi would enjoy watching him get flustered and most certainly would tease him relentlessly. Wouldn't change him for the world, though.

“Found something to watch, Ru?”

Iruka looked up from where he was crouched in front of the television as Kakashi padded into the room, carefully placing their drinks onto the coffee table. Pressing play on the video player, he simply nodded and tried to get back up off the floor. Spending so much time laid up in hospital had atrophied his muscles and so, at times Iruka struggled to get up from the floor.

“There's nothing wrong in asking for help,” Kakashi said. He bent forward, slinging an arm around Iruka's slim waist and carefully pulled him to his feet. “You'll be starting physical therapy once you're cleared. Things won't be this way forever, Ru.”

“I just… you shouldn't have to do this.” Iruka sighed, slumping down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. Tears started gathering and he bit back a sob.

"He's right, I'm a failure, I-" He shook his head when Kakashi began to speak. "I can't even help myself off the ground, Kakashi, why should you have to? Why should you have to help me?"

Kakashi pulled Iruka against his chest, his hands softly carding through long strands of dark hair and whispered against his temple “Because you're my partner and because I love you.” He continued stroking Iruka’s hair, the gesture soothing, helping to calm him down. “You've done this for me enough times so please, let me in. Let me love you.”

Tugging the blanket off the back of the sofa, Kakashi pulled it over Iruka, urging him to lay his head in his lap as he began to sing softly. “I won't leave you, I will catch you, when you feel like letting go…”

Iruka looked up and almost choked up at the fond smile and the absolute warmth and sincerity he could see in Kakashi's eyes. Maybe, just maybe he means it.

“Because you're not, you're not alone…,”

“Thank you, Kashi,” Iruka whispered, eyes heavy as he drifted off to the sound of his partners voice.

What would I do without you?

#kakairu #kakairu fanfic #iruka umino #kakashi hatake #my writing

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