#I really like how she does eyes and eyebrows

[minniesfiles]

SEVENTEEN AS GIRL DADS

❧ PAIRING; ot13 x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, very light angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; tooth rotting fluff, sprinkle of angst in some parts, some dramatic situations but fluffy ending, established relationship, first time parents

𐚁₊⊹

SEUNGCHEOL

Seungcheol was sitting at his desk leaned over his laptop as his fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. His brows were knotted in concentration as his eyes were fixed intently on the screen. With the deadline approaching, he was committed to completing this document before the end of the evening.

Then suddenly the door to his study room bursted open, slamming against the wall. Before he could react, a small figure rushed inside with her tiny feet pounding against the wooden floor. His five-year-old daughter, Haeun, ran straight towards him crying out loud with her red and tear-streaked face.

Hot on her heels was you, looking frustrated and exhausted. “Haeun, come back here!” you called as you stepped into the room.

But Haeun didn’t stop. She launched herself onto her father’s lap and buried her face into his chest. Her little body trembled as she cried.

Seungcheol’s heart clenched. He immediately forgot about his laptop, the document, and the upcoming deadline. Nothing mattered more than his daughter’s distress. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Shh, princess. What’s wrong?” he asked gently, tilting his head to look down at her.

“Mummy said…I c-can’t have…ice cream before dinner!” she managed to get out through hiccups and sniffles.

Seungcheol barely suppressed a smile. He glanced up at you, who crossed your arms and let out a tired sigh.

“She threw a tantrum when I said no,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then ran straight to you for backup.”

Your husband exhaled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head. It was a small thing, really, but to a five-year-old, it was the end of the world.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, gently pulling Haeun back so he could look into her teary eyes. “I know you really want ice cream, but Mummy’s right. If you eat it now, you won’t be hungry for dinner. And you need a good meal first, don’t you?”

Haeun sniffled as her lips quivered. “But…but I really wanted it…”

“I know, princess” he said as he wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “How about this? If you eat all your dinner, we’ll have ice cream together afterward. Does that sound like a deal?”

Haeun hesitated, her big brown eyes searching his. Then, after a moment, she nodded slowly. “Okay…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I said the same thing, and she threw a fit.”

Seungcheol rinned. “Dad privilege.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Fine. But only if she eats her vegetables.”

Haeun pouted but nodded again. “Okay Mummy.”

Seungcheol lifted her off his lap and set her on the floor. “Now, go wash your face, and we’ll have dinner soon.” Haeun gave him a quick hug before trotting off.

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “I swear, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Seungcheol chuckled as he turned back to his laptop. “Yeah…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

JEONGHAN

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when your six-year-old, Jiwoo, looked up from her colouring book and studied her father’s long, smooth hair. Jeonghan was sitting on the sofa reading a book as his dark brown locks brushed over his shoulders effortlessly. You often teased him about how unfair it was that his hair looked better than yours with minimum maintenance.

Jiwoo tapped her chin thoughtfully, and an idea formed in her head. She set her crayons down and hopped off the sofa, marching over to her father.

“Daddy?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head.

Jeonghan looked up from his book. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Braid my hair?” he blinked.

Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Please! Your hair is so pretty, and I want to make it even prettier!”

Jeonghan chuckled and set his book aside. “Well, how can I say no to that? Alright, let’s do it.”

Jiwoo clapped her hands in excitement and grabbed his wrist, leading him toward her bedroom. “You have to sit on my bed! And you can’t move, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grinning as he obediently sat on the small pink bed which his legs barely fitted.

“Wait here!” she instructed before running over to her little play hairdressing station in the corner of her room. She rummaged through her plastic vanity and began gathering her toy hairbrush, colourful clips, and a few ribbons she saved from old presents.

Jeonghan patiently sat with hands resting on his lap as his daughter returned with her arms full of supplies. She placed everything on the bed beside him, then climbed up behind him and ran her tiny fingers through his hair.

“Wow Daddy. Your hair is so smooth! Mummy always says she’s jealous,” Jiwoo said, giggling.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jeonghan smirked.

From the doorway, you leaned against the frame with your arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile. “Don’t get too proud Yoon Jeonghan. I let you have the better hair,” you teased.

“Of course dear” your husband chuckled.

Jiwoo, who was completely focused on her work, began brushing his hair with exaggerated care. “You have to be very still Daddy! I don’t want to mess up.”

Jeonghan straightened up his posture. “Not moving an inch,” he promised.

She nodded in approval and got to work. She hummed softly as she created a long, wobbly braid, occasionally stopping to add a colourful clip here and there.

You on the other hand covered your mouth to stifle a laugh as your daughter sprinkled in pink and purple ribbons, tying them into small bows at random spots.

After several minutes, Jiwoo finally clapped her hands. “All done!” She reached for a small mirror from her vanity and handed it to her father. “Look Daddy!”

Jeonghan held up the mirror and burst out laughing. His hair was an absolute masterpiece of uneven braids, mismatched ribbons, and bright butterfly clips.

“Well?” Jiwoo asked eagerly.

“I love it! Thank you sweetheart” Jeonghan smiled warmly.

JOSHUA

Joshua had been through his fair share of tantrums. Having a toddler meant that outbursts were a normal part of life. But today’s meltdown? This was on a whole new level.

He held Byul in his arms as she screamed, her little face red and wet with tears. The two-year-old kicked and squirmed as she tried to escape his grip. Her loud wails were practically echoing through the entire grocery store. It was the kind of tantrum that made people stop and stare. The kind that turned heads and made strangers mutter under their breath.

You on the other hand walked a few steps ahead, pushing the shopping trolley. Your face was carefully neutral, but Joshua could tell that the stares you were getting were bothering you. You exhaled softly and glanced at him. “She’s really going for it today,” you murmured.

“Oh, you think?” Joshua muttered, adjusting his grip as Byul twisted again, nearly knocking his baseball cap off. “She wanted the chocolate chip cookies, I said no, and now we’re here.”

You sighed while grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf. “People are staring.”

Joshua didn’t need to look around to know that was true. He could feel the eyes on him — annoyed glances from shoppers who just wanted to get through their day without a screaming child in the background. An older woman shook her head disapprovingly as she passed by, and a man near the dairy section shot Joshua a look that practically said, ‘Control your kid’.

Joshua tightened his hold on Byul as he bounced her slightly. “Bubba, please,” he whispered, brushing damp curls away from her flushed face. “I know you’re upset, but we can’t get cookies right now. We’ll have a snack when we get home, okay?”

But Byul wasn’t having it. She threw her head back and let out another ear-piercing wail. Joshua felt the frustration slowly creeping in. He was usually good at keeping his cool, but this was exhausting. He looked at you helplessly. “Any ideas?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, then reached into the trolley. You pulled out a bag of baby carrots and waved it in front of your daughter’s face. “Byul, look. Want some carrots?”

Byul, still sniffling, peeked at the bag and immediately shoved it away with a furious, “NO!”

You shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Joshua sighed. He was sweaty, tired, and feeling the pressure of every judgmental stare that was coming his way. But then, an idea struck him. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth trying.

He turned Byul around in his arms so they were face to face. “Bubba,” he said in a softer, playful tone, “can you take a deep breath with Daddy?”

Byul, still hiccupping from crying, shook her head stubbornly.

Joshua exaggerated a deep breath, making it loud and dramatic. “Biiiiig breath in—” he puffed out his cheeks, “—and whoooooosh, out!” he blew air gently on her face.

Byul blinked. She was still upset, but something about his silly breathing caught her attention. And so he did it again. “Whoooosh!”

Byul let out a tiny giggle between sniffles. “One more?” Joshua grinned. She hesitated, then copied him, taking a tiny, shuddering breath in and blowing out.

The screaming stopped, and both of you were relieved. “You’re a wizard” you smiled, shaking your head.

Joshua chuckled, “nah. Just a dad.”

JUNHUI

Junhui adjusted the straps of his backpack while holding his three-year-old’s hand. Mei clutched her stuffed bunny tightly as her eyes darted around the unfamiliar space. It was her first time on an airplane. More importantly, it was her first trip to China to meet Junhui’s side of the family for the Spring Festival.

“Are you excited to see Grandma and Grandpa?” Junhui asked as he crouched to her level.

Mei nodded hesitantly, and then looked up at you who smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fun, sweetheart. And we get to fly in a big airplane!”

Mei didn’t look so sure about that part.

After checking in and going through security, you finally boarded the plane. Mei sat in the middle, with you by the window and Junhui by the aisle seat.

She fidgeted in her seat with her small legs dangling above the floor. Her nervous energy was apparent as she looked around to take in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Junhui then helped Mei put in her small earplugs, hoping they would soften the unfamiliar sounds. “These will make it nice and quiet,” he promised as he tucked a blanket around her lap.

When the flight attendants finished their safety announcements, the plane rumbled to life.

Despite the earplugs, the deep growl of the engines startled her. She flinched, eyes widening as she looked around in panic. Junhui reached for her hand. “It’s okay darling. That’s just the plane getting ready.”

But Mei didn’t look convinced.

The aircraft began rolling toward the runway, and the motion made her grip her bunny even tighter. Then the speed picked up — faster, faster — until suddenly, the nose lifted, and you were taking off.

The three-year-old felt her heart drop at the unfamiliar motion, and soon panic set in. She let out a whimper as her face scrunched up. Tears welled up in her eyes, and then — she bursted into sobs.

Junhui’s heart clenched. He hated seeing her scared. Ignoring the glances from other passengers, he unbuckled his seatbelt just enough to lean closer.

“Mei, it’s okay,” he said gently while rubbing her back. “Daddy’s right here.”

“I don’t like it!” she wailed as her little hands gripped your shirt tightly. “I want to go home!”

You pressed a kiss to her head. “Shh, baby, we’re safe. The plane is just going up in the sky, like a bird.”

Mei sniffled but still whimpered. Her tiny body trembled as she cried while gripping her bunny like a lifeline.

Junhui hated seeing her in distress. So he thought for a moment, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small red envelope. “Hey, Mei, look what I have.”

Her sobs slowed just enough for her to look at it.

“This is a hóngbāo from Grandpa,” he said, opening it just enough to show the shiny coin inside. “He sent it early for you. And guess what? He can’t wait to give you more when we get there.”

Mei sniffled, eyes still watery but now distracted.

You wiped your daughter’s tears gently. “And when we land, we’ll see Grandma and Grandpa, and there will be lanterns, fireworks, and lots of yummy dumplings.”

Mei hesitated, then clutched the red envelope along with her bunny. “Dumplings?”

“Lots of them” Junhui grinned.

The plane soon steadied in the air, and the worst of the takeoff behind was now over. Mei’s sobs faded into sniffles as she leaned sleepily against her father’s arm.

Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so scary after all.

SOONYOUNG

The music stopped. The cheers faded. And the winner was announced.

But it wasn’t him.

Soonyoung sat backstage, slumped against the wall with his arms resting on his knees and his head hanging low. Sweat dripped from his tired face, while his tank top was soaked through from the hours of dancing under the bright stage lights.

His chest ached, but not from exhaustion. This pain ran deeper. Months of practice, of pushing his body to the limit, of dreaming of victory…all for nothing.

He clenched his fists, his breathing shaky. He told himself it wouldn’t matter if he lost, and that the experience alone was enough. But now, sitting here alone in the dim backstage area while the winner celebrated, he felt like a failure.

A choked sob escaped his lips. He buried his face in his hands, and his body trembled as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

“Daddy?”

Soonyoung felt his breath hitch. He looked up with his tear-blurred vision.

There he saw his five-year-old daughter, Arin, standing a few steps away with her small hands clutching the hem of her pink dress. Her big brown eyes were filled with worry. Behind her stood you with a sad smile as you let your daughter go ahead.

Arin took a cautious step forward. “Daddy…are you sad?” she asked.

Soonyoung swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to find his voice. “Yes baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Daddy lost.”

Arin frowned, then quietly sat in front of him, folding her legs. She reached out her tiny hands and placed them gently over his own. “It’s okay Daddy.”

Soonyoung let out a shaky breath as fresh tears spilled over. He tried to hold it together, but with his little girl sitting there, looking at him with so much love and concern, the dam broke. He sobbed openly and pulled her into his arms.

Arin wrapped her small arms around his neck, patting his back the way he always did when she cried. “Don’t be sad Daddy,” she said softly. “You’re still the best dancer in the world.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders shook as he held her tighter. “Oh, baby…”

Arin pulled back slightly and cupped his tear-streaked cheeks in her tiny hands. “You dance so cool Daddy. Even cooler than the people on TV!”

You knelt beside them and rubbed your husband’s back. “She’s right, you know,” you murmured. “You worked so hard, and no trophy can change that.”

Soonyoung let out a weak chuckle through his tears, and looked into his daughter’s hopeful eyes. He wiped his face and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, my baby.”

“Can we dance when we get home?” Arin grinned.

Soonyoung exhaled, and a genuine smile finally broke through his sadness. He nodded. “Yeah. We can dance as much as you want.”

And at that moment, the loss didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because to his little girl, he would always be a champion.

WONWOO

Wonwoo loved the beach in theory. The soft sand beneath his feet, the salty breeze that tousled his hair, the crashing of the waves — it was beautiful, and peaceful. But the ocean itself? That was different. Ever since he was a child, he had feared the water. A near-drowning incident during his childhood left a scar in his mind, one that never fully faded.

Still, he wouldn’t let his past keep him from making memories with his family. You were laying out your small picnic on a checkered blanket while humming a tune as you arranged the sandwiches and fruit.

Your five-year-old daughter, Yoonji, was giggling as she played near the shore with her bright pink floaty bobbing in the gentle waves. Wonwoo was distracted by your laughter and the task at hand that he unintentionally forgot to keep a close eye on Yoonji.

When the food was ready, he stood and dusted the sand off his hands. “Yoonie! Come eat!” he called, but there was no response. His heart began to race as he turned around, scanning the shoreline.

Then he heard the screaming.

His head snapped toward the water, and his heart nearly stopped. A small figure thrashed in the waves, the familiar floaty drifting farther away from her.

Yoonji.

A terrified scream tore from your throat as you ran towards the sea, but Wonwoo was faster. His body moved before his mind could catch up. Fear gripped at him as he approached the sea. He felt his past fear creeping in, but nothing mattered more than his daughter.

“I’m coming baby!” he frantically exclaimed as he charged into the waves.

The shock of the cold water sent his heart racing as he dove into the sea. For a brief second, the old memories surged back. But then he saw Yoonji’s tiny arms struggling against the waves with her mouth opening and closing as she tried to stay afloat.

His fear vanished. All that remained was the desperate need to reach for his child.

His strokes were fast and uneven, but determined regardless. The salty water splashed into his face and burned his eyes, but he pushed forward. He had to.

Finally, his fingers brushed against Yoonji’s trembling form. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his bare chest.

“I got you, baby. Daddy got you” his voice broke, but his grip was firm.

Yoonji held onto her father as she sobbed against his shoulder. He could feel her tiny body shaking. With every ounce of strength he had left, he swam back. His muscles burned, but he refused to stop.

At last, his feet found the sand. He stumbled but held tight to his daughter. “You’re okay, baby. Daddy is here” his breath was ragged as he carried her onto the shore.

You rushed towards them with tears streaming down your face. You wrapped Yoonji in your arms and pressed frantic kisses to her wet hair.

Wonwoo collapsed onto his knees beside you from exhaustion. But guilt soon overwhelmed him.

He took his eyes off her. He let this happen.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered with a hoarse voice.

“You saved her” you reassured him.

Yoonji sniffled as her small hands clutched his arm. “I was scared.” Wonwoo swallowed hard and pulled her close. “Me too baby.”

As he sat there, holding his daughter in his arms, he realised something. He feared the ocean all his life, but nothing had ever terrified him more than the thought of losing his daughter.

JIHOON

Jihoon sat hunched over his keyboard with headphones covering his ears. He was working on a track for another but k-pop group amongst his long list of requests. He adjusted the bassline and nodded slightly as he felt the groove settle in. He was close, but not quite there yet.

A sudden knock on the door pulled Jihoon from his focus. He barely had time to react before the door opened, revealing two of his favorite people in the world.

“Daddy!”

A high-pitched squeal filled the room as his six-year-old daughter, Nari, dashed towards him with her small feet pattering against the floor. Jihoon turned in his chair and pulled off his glasses as a wide smile stretched across his tired face.

“Come here my princess,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

He chuckled as Nari wasted no time leaping onto his lap and wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He felt the warmth of her hug melt away the heavy exhaustion of the day.

“I missed you Daddy,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Jihoon pouted in guilt. He had been working late for weeks now, buried in projects and fine-tuning beats until the early hours of the morning. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the familiar scent of strawberries from her shampoo.

“I’m sorry princess. Daddy’s been really busy.”

You walked in with a soft smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss on your husband’s lips. “You should take a break love,” you whispered.

Jihoon exhaled. He knew you were right. But before he could argue, Nari gasped and wiggled out of his grasp. “Daddy! Can I play the piano?” she asked with her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Jihoon chuckled. “Of course princess. Show me what you got.”

Nari scrambled off his lap and ran to the sleek black piano sitting in the corner of the studio. You and Jihoon followed, taking a seat beside your daughter as she placed her small fingers on the keys.

With absolute focus, Nari pressed the keys one by one as she attempted to play a tune she heard him compose before. The notes weren’t perfect — some were offbeat, others hesitant — but she was determined. Jihoon exchanged a knowing glance with you before both bursted into soft giggles at your daughter’s intense concentration.

“You almost got it baby,” Jihoon encouraged and guided her tiny fingers to the right keys.

She pouted slightly, frustrated with herself, but tried again. And again. Jihoon’s heart swelled with pride. He loved that she shared his passion for music, even if right now, it was just for fun.

After a while, Nari suddenly turned to him with her best pleading expression. “Daddy, can we go home now? Let’s have s’mores and watch a movie together! Please?”

Jihoon hesitated and glanced back at his computer screen. He had so much work left to do. The deadline aside, Jihoon was a perfectionist. It was why he spent so much extra time in the studio to make sure the tracks he produced were top quality.

But then he looked at his daughter’s hopeful eyes as her small hands tugged at his sleeve.

Work could wait.

Jihoon sighed, then grinned as he scooped Nari into his arms. “Alright, alright. You win princess.”

Nari cheered in victory, and you laughed shaking your head.

As you all left the studio together, Jihoon knew he had made the right choice. Music was his passion, but his family was his heart. And in the end, no melody in the world could ever compare to the sound of his daughter’s laughter.

SEOKMIN

The park was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. You and Seokmin walked along the park path with your fingers intertwined as you rested your head on his shoulder. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments he wished could last forever.

Ahead of you was your four-year-old daughter, Hana, skipping happily with an oversized ice cream cone in her small hands. She was talking a mile a minute about her day at kindergarten, barely pausing for breath between licks.

“And then, Miss Kim said my drawing was really pretty, and I got a gold star!” Hana announced proudly.

“That’s amazing sweetie. What did you draw?” you smiled.

“A rainbow! With a unicorn! And sparkles!” your daughter exclaimed, turning slightly to flash you both a wide, toothy grin.

“Sounds like a masterpiece” Seokmin laughed.

Hana nodded eagerly and took another bite of her ice cream. Everything felt perfect. The quietness in the park, the warmth of your body against his, your daughter’s innocent laughter — it was a moment he’d tuck away in his heart forever.

But then, in an instant, that peace was ruined.

A man, walking briskly and not paying attention, carelessly bumped into Hana. The impact sent her tiny body stumbling backward. She landed hard on the pavement while her ice cream slipped from her grasp and splattering across the ground.

There was silence for a second before a wail cut through the air.

Seokmin’s stomach dropped as he sprinted forward and dropped to his knees beside Hana. She was holding onto her arm with tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Hey, Daddy got you, hmm? Are you okay? Let’s check your arm” his voice was gentle, but his hands trembled as he checked her over.

“My arm hurts,” she whimpered as her little body shook. “And my ice cream is gone…”

You knelt beside them and quickly examined Hana’s arm. “I don’t think it’s broken, just a little bruised,” you reassured as you brushed her hair from her face. “You’re so brave sweetheart.”

Seokmin’s jaw clenched as he turned to the man who had knocked into her. The guy — dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans — barely stopped. He looked back briefly but made no move to apologise or help.

And something in Seokmin snapped.He stood up abruptly with his body rigid with anger. “Hey!” he barked with a sharp voice.

The man hesitated, but then scoffed. “Wasn’t my fault, the kid wasn’t watching where she was going.”

Seokmin took a step forward, his fists clenching. “You knocked over my daughter, and that’s all you have to say?”

You, who was still crouched by Hana, snapped your head up. “Seokmin…” you called out to him.

But Seokmin was already stepping closer. He had never been the type to pick fights, but seeing Hana cry and the indifference on this guy’s face — he couldn’t just let it slide.

“You need to apologise,” he growled as his fists itched to do more than just demand words.

The man scoffed again. “Whatever,” he muttered before turning to walk away.

Seokmin took another step forward, but suddenly, a small voice stopped him.

“Daddy?”

He turned back and his eyes met Hana’s teary ones. She wasn’t scared of the man — she was scared of him. He shut his eyes and exhaled a deep breath before fluttering them open again.

He walked back over to her and crouched down to her level. He cupped her cheeks and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

Hana sniffled again and looked at her fallen ice cream. “But…my treat…”

“Then let’s go get you another one. How about two scoops this time?” you said.

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

You hummed and then turned to your husband, touching his arm gently. “Come on love. She needs you more than he deserves your anger.”

Seokmin took a deep breath, forcing himself to let it go. With one last glare at the man’s retreating figure, he lifted Hana into his arms.

Hana immediately wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and snuggled into him. As you walked back toward the ice cream stand, Seokmin kissed the top of his daughter’s head, holding her close. Some fights weren’t worth it — but protecting his family always would be.

MINGYU

Mingyu stepped out of the shower feeling his body aching from an exhausting day at work. The warm water had helped ease some of the tension in his muscles, but the fatigue was still there weighing heavily upon him. He ran a towel through his damp hair and sighed as he prepared himself for what he hoped would be a quiet evening.

Then he heard it — a sharp, piercing wail resonating through the house. Aera’s cry — tiny yet somehow powerful enough to make his heart stop.

Mingyu didn’t think twice. He dropped the towel and hurried toward the nursery. The moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting in the nursing chair cradling your newborn daughter against your chest. You looked exhausted, and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said over the frantic cries. “She won’t latch…she won’t stop crying…”

Mingyu’s heart ached at the sight of your struggling. He knew how much you wanted to breastfeed, and how much pressure you put on yourself to make it work. But your daughter, barely two weeks old, was inconsolable as her tiny fists flailed, refusing to settle.

Without hesitation, he moved towards. “Let me take her.”

You hesitated, but your shoulders slumped in relief as you gently passed Aera to him. The moment she was in his arms, Mingyu was struck again by just how tiny she was. At six feet-two inches tall, his arms broad and strong, she fit against him like a fragile doll, so impossibly small and delicate.

“Shh, baby girl,” he whispered to her as he held her close. “Daddy’s got you.” his voice was softer than it had ever been.

Her cries didn’t stop immediately. They were still loud, her tiny face scrunched in distress, but Mingyu remained calm. He placed her upright against his bare chest, one large hand supporting her fragile back while the other cradled the back of her head. He began to rock her gently as he paced across the nursery.

The frantic hysteria in her voice soon quieted just a little, turning into tiny whimpers as her small body slowly relaxed against him. Mingyu pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of baby lotion.

You watched from the chair as tears rolled down your cheeks — not just from exhaustion, but from relief.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you whispered.

Mingyu turned to you while still rocking Aera. “You’re not doing anything wrong love.”

Your lip quivered. “She wouldn’t stop crying…she wouldn’t eat…”

Mingyu walked back over and crouched down so you could see your daughter’s peaceful face as she nuzzled into his chest. “She just needed a minute to feel safe. And she will eat, when she’s ready.”

You exhaled shakily and nodded as you wiped away your tears. Mingyu leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. “You’re doing an amazing job,” he assured you. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Aera let out a tiny sigh as her tiny fingers curled against his chest as she finally settled into sleep. Mingyu felt his heart swell. He was overwhelmed by love for the little family you and he had created.

Exhaustion didn’t even matter at that point. Work didn’t matter. All that mattered was this — holding his daughter close, keeping her safe, and making sure you knew you weren’t alone.

He would always be here. For both of you.

MINGHAO

Minghao adjusted his glasses as they slipped down the bridge of his nose. It was a movement so familiar that it became muscle memory. He barely noticed anymore — just a simple push, a brief pause, and then back to the task at hand.

Stacks of student papers sat before him, each marked with his red pen in his neat handwriting. It was late, far later than he intended to stay up. But even as a college professor, he had deadlines. The responsibility was big.

Then, a sound broke the quiet atmosphere. He heard soft cries growing louder as they approached the living room.

Minghao set his pen down and turned just as you entered. Your face was lined with exhaustion, your eyes glassy with worry. In your arms, your one-year-old daughter, Daiyu, whimpered pitifully as her tiny face scrunched in distress.

“I think she has a fever,” you murmured as you shifted Daiyu in your arms.

Minghao’s heart clenched at the sight of his little girl’s flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Without hesitation, he stood up and reached for her. And with gentle but firm hands, he took her from your arms.

Daiyu squirmed. He felt her warm body radiating heat against his chest. She was clearly burning up. He rocked her gently and pressed a kiss to her damp forehead.

“Shh, bǎo bèi,” he whispered. “Daddy’s here.”

You hovered close while rubbing your arms as though you were cold. But your worry was visible. “What should we do?”

“Let’s check her temperature first.”

Carrying Daiyu, he walked towards the medicine cabinet and grabbed the thermometer with one hand while balancing her with the other. He placed it under her arm and murmured soft reassurances as she fussed. A few seconds later, the reading confirmed what he was already worried about.

“She’s definitely running a fever,” he said as he kept his voice steady, though his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

You bit your lip as your hands twisted together. “Should we call the doctor?” you asked.

“Not yet,” Minghao said gently. “Let’s give her some medicine first and see if it helps.”

He carefully measured out the correct dose of infant fever reducer and gently encouraged Daiyu to swallow it while whispering soothing words. Despite her little whimper, she leaned against his chest and gripped his shirt with her small fingers.

He resumed pacing around the house while rocking her in his arms. His professor’s mind was now entirely focused on his daughter. The academic world, the papers waiting for his attention — none of it mattered right now.

You sat on the sofa watching them with a soft expression. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you saw how gently Minghao held your daughter.

For nearly an hour, he walked, whispering lullabies, stroking her back, feeling her tiny breaths against his neck. Slowly, the fever medicine began to work, and Daiyu’d cries quieted. Her body relaxed against him as her breathing evened out.

Finally, when he was sure she was fully asleep, he carefully laid her in her cot. He stood there for a moment and watched her to make sure she was truly resting.

You stepped beside him and leaned into his side. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Minghao sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “She’s our baby. I’d do anything for her.”

As he looked down at your sleeping daughter, peaceful at last, he knew he’d stay up all night if he had to — because some things were far more important than grading papers.

SEUNGKWAN

Seungkwan let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into the sofa after putting the laundry in the dryer. He knew you would appreciate coming home to clean clothes instead of another argument about his procrastination. You worked long hours, and the last thing he wanted was to hear you yelling about unfinished chores.

Just as he was about to close his eyes for a well-earned break, a small voice interrupted him.

“Daddy?”

Seungkwan opened one eye to see his five-year-old daughter, Yuna, standing beside him with an eager grin. “Yes darling?”

“Can I put makeup on you?” she asked.

Seungkwan frowned. “Makeup? But Yuna, you don’t have any makeup.”

“I’ll use Mummy’s!” she giggled mischievously.

Seungkwan sat up straighter. “Uh…I don’t think Mummy would like that,” he said carefully. “She doesn’t like anyone touching her stuff.”

“Please Daddy?” Yuna pleaded with her big eyes shimmering with hope. She clasped her little hands together and tilted her head like a puppy begging for a treat.

Seungkwan hesitated. The idea of having his face covered in lipstick and eyeshadow wasn’t exactly appealing. But how could he say no to that face?

“Alright,” he finally relented with a sigh. “But! Mummy can’t know, okay? It’s our little secret.”

Yuna squealed in delight and grabbed his hand before dragging him upstairs to the bedroom. She climbed onto the bed and rummaged through your emergency makeup bag with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter. Seungkwan at patiently, already regretting this decision.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with giggles and concentration as she dabbed powder onto his cheeks, swiped red lipstick across his lips (some of it ending up on his chin), and painted his eyelids with an uneven mix of shimmering pink and purple.

Seungkwan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and nearly laughed out loud. He looked ridiculous. But when he saw Yuna’s face beaming with joy, he didn’t care.

“You look so pretty Daddy!” she said proudly.

Before Seungkwan could respond, the sound of the front door opening made his stomach drop. You were home.

“Quick! Clean up!” his eyes widened.

But it was too late. The footsteps got closer, followed by your voice. “Yuna? Kwanie?”

The bedroom door swung open, and there you stood.

Your gaze swept over the scene before you — the makeup scattered across the bed, your daughter holding a mascara wand like a paintbrush, and your husband sitting there with his face covered in a colorful mess.

Your eyes widened in shock, “my makeup!” you shrieked.

Yuna flinched at your tone, but Seungkwan quickly spoke up. “Honey, I—”

“You let her use my expensive makeup for this?!” you interrupted.

But then, as you stared at them, something shifted. You saw the way Yuna giggled with her little hands covered in powder. You saw Seungkwan looking utterly ridiculous but grinning as your daughter beamed with happiness.

And just like that, your frustration melted away.

Seungkwan gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll buy you new ones, I promise” he told you.

He then glanced at Yuna, who was now giggling uncontrollably. “But…look how happy she is.”

You let out a deep breath. Then, against your better judgment, you laughed. “You’re lucky she’s cute,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, do you want Yuna to do your makeup next?” your husband grinned.

“Yes! Mummy, can I do your makeup next?” Yuna jumped up.

“Not a chance” you deadpanned.

HANSOL

Hansol sat at his tiny desk typing away on his laptop with one hand while the other cradled his six-month-old daughter Nabi against his chest. She was so warm and peaceful in his arms. Her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his grey hoodie as he gently rocked her with his knee.

He was exhausted, but exhaustion had become second nature by now. Between his final year of university and fatherhood, sleep was a luxury. His dissertation deadline was in two weeks, and with every keystroke, he fought against time. He was determined to finish strong, if not for himself, then for you and his daughter.

Nabi wasn’t exactly planned to begin with. When you found out that you were pregnant, it hit him hard. Both of you were scared. Hansol remembered sitting on your dorm room bed with his hands gripping his hair while you cried softly beside him. Neither of you had an idea how you were going to manage university and a baby. It felt impossible.

But that was until Nabi was born.

Hansol wasn’t the type to cry easily, but when the nurse placed her in his arms for the first time, he broke completely. She weighed like a feather, so small and fragile, and yet the weight of her in his arms felt heavy.

Every doubt, every fear, melted away in that moment. He made a silent vow to her that he would do anything to protect her and give her the life she deserved.

It wasn’t easy. Balancing classes, assignments, and sleepless nights with a newborn pushed you both to your limits. But he and you faced every challenge together. You leaned on each other when things got overwhelming.

And tonight was no different.

Hansol adjusted Nabi slightly to make sure she was comfortable, and kept typing. His dissertation deadline was fast approaching, and he still had a long way to go. He tried to focus, but the warmth of Nabi against him and the rhythmic sound of her breathing made it hard not to get distracted.

And then, without warning, Nabi stirred. She let out a tiny gurgle before she vomited all over him.

Hansol body froze.

The warmth of the spit-up seeped through his hoodie and onto his chest. His eyes widened in horror as he realised some of it had also landed on his dissertation papers.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned as he pushed his chair back abruptly. He carefully lifted Nabi away from the mess, wrinkling his nose.

“Babe! I need backup!”

A moment later, you appeared in the doorway with your own tired eyes widening as you took in the scene. Hansol, covered in baby vomit, Nabi blinking innocently in his arms, and his once-pristine papers now splattered with milk.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, but a snort of laughter escaped. “You look like you just lost a fight,” you teased.

“Yeah, and she didn’t even have to try,” your boyfriend muttered, trying to wipe himself down while keeping Nabi steady.

“Can you grab me a towel? And maybe some clean paper while you’re at it?”

Still giggling, you disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth. You wiped Nabi’s mouth first before handing Hansol another towel.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” you mused.

Hansol looked down at Nabi, who was now grinning up at him, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused. He couldn’t help but smile back, shaking his head.

“She’s worth it,” he said simply.

“Aren’t you princess?” he looked down at his daughter with a smile before leaning down to kiss her forehead. Nabi giggled as she reached her arms up to grab his face.

You leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yeah,” you murmured, “she really is.”

Life wasn’t perfect. It was messy, exhausting, and full of unexpected surprises. But as Hansol looked at his daughter and the love of his life, he knew one thing for sure — he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

CHAN

Chan stepped out of his car and stretched his arms as he took a deep breath of the cool night air. It had been a while since he went out with the boys, and though he enjoyed the break, he was eager to be home. The comfort of his wife and daughter was where he truly belonged.

But the moment he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong.

The house was in chaos. There were pillows thrown from the sofa, toys scattered everywhere, and a sippy cup knocked over, juice pooling on the coffee table. Then he heard his four-year-old daughter, Dahyun, crying and screaming loudly.

Chan’s stomach tightened as he hurried towards the living room.

When he walked in seeing you holding Dahyun by her arms and guiding her down onto her bottom with an exhausted but sharp glare.

“Sit on your bottom, now,” you ordered, your voice raised and filled with frustration. “You do NOT throw toys across the room like that when you’re told no. That made Mummy very sad!”

Dahyun froze, startled by your angry tone. Her big, tear-filled eyes locked onto your face as her little chest rose and fell in quick breaths. The room was silent just for a second, and Chan saw the confusion in his daughter’s expression. Then, she bursted into loud, uncontrollable sobs with fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Chen’s frown deepened. His heart squeezed painfully watching her wail with her tiny hands gripping her pyjama shirt as she hiccupped between cries.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

You let out a long, tired sigh as you rubbed your temple. Dark circles under your eyes showed just how drained you were. “She threw her toy at me when I told her she couldn’t have another custard tart,” you explained softly but still frustrated.

“It nearly hit me Chan. I can’t let her think that’s okay. She needs to learn.”

Chan nodded understandingly. You were home with Dahyun all day managing her tantrums, her tireless energy, and her stubbornness. He knew how exhausting it was. He also knew that you weren’t usually this harsh. You were just at your limit.

Still, the way Dahyun was crying, the way her little body shook on the floor, made his chest ache unbearably.

“Don’t comfort her yet,” you added quickly, sensing his thoughts. “She needs to understand that what she did was wrong.”

Chan hesitated as his gaze shifted between you and your daughter. You weren’t wrong — Dahyun needed to learn boundaries. But the way she was sobbing and struggling to breathe between her cries made it impossible for him to stand by and do nothing.

He couldn’t.

Ignoring your warning, he stepped forward and knelt down before scooping Dahyun into his arms. She held onto him immediately with her little fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt as she buried her wet face into his neck.

“Shh, my baby, calm down” Chan whispered as he rocked her gently.

Dahyun’s cries softened into hiccups as he rubbed her back in slow circles. He pressed gentle kisses to her tear-streaked cheeks while murmuring soothing words as he held her close.

You sighed as you leaned back against the sofa, exhausted. “Chan..”

“I know,” he said before you could finish. He knew discipline was important. He knew Dahyun had to learn that throwing things in anger wasn’t okay. But he also knew she was only four and was still learning how to handle her big emotions. Right now, what she needed more than anything was comfort.

You exhaled as your anger faded into quiet understanding. “It’s just been a long day,” you admitted.

Chan nodded while he adjusted Dahyun as her sniffles finally calmed. “We’ll teach her together,” he promised. “But I can’t just watch her cry like that. I just can’t.”

“I know” you offered a smal, tired smile.

As Dahyun’s small body relaxed against his chest, Chan knew that parenting wasn’t about being perfect. It was about balance. Discipline and love, lessons and comfort. And at the end of the day, no matter how difficult things got, love would always come first.

a/n; comment your favourite!

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

The One That Got Away

WC: 1.7k

WARNINGS: Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication

.

.

The plane lands and I step out into the California air. It’s been 6 years since I’ve set foot here, but the memories hit me like a brick wall. My ‘One That Got Away’ floods my mind. The perfect blonde hair and green eyes. The smug smirk he wore more often than not. I try to shake the thoughts out of my head. I remind myself, we are here for work. Not for Jake Seresin. Once I get in the rental car, I head to the site of my new coffee shop. I opened my first cafe 4 years ago back home in Austin. Sassy’s Books and Brews has taken off, expanding faster than I could have ever imagined. When my development team said California was the next move, the ache in my heart returned. It’s been 6 years and here I am, wondering if he still thinks about me.

.

.

My creative director hugs me outside of the cafe, “Y/n, this is amazing! It’s all come together. This is going to be a hit!” I chuckle nervously, “I hope so. How’s the social media response for the grand opening tomorrow?” She beams at me, “Ah-ma-zing. We already have 20k followers on the instagram ALONE!” I smile and scan the cafe over one last time. Checking my watch, I sigh, “I’m going to head to the hotel and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day. Thank you for everything, you’re outstanding.” At the hotel, I shut myself in the room and order room service. There’s a Harry Potter marathon on, so I fall asleep thinking about a magical world.

.

.

My alarm startles me awake. After hair, makeup, and changing my outfit ten times, I drive over for the big event. Local news is already filling the sidewalk out front. There is a line all the way around the corner. All the baristas are ready to go. I put on a large smile and open the doors, “Welcome to Sassy’s Books and Brews! C’mon in y’all!” I join my baristas behind the counter as the crowd files in. Part of me is wondering if he will walk in those doors. Another part of me is angry at myself for even entertaining the thought. I focus on keeping the line moving, pushing Jake out of my mind. We are busy all day long, so I make sure each barista gets the breaks they need. The team here is amazing and I have no doubt they have what it takes to keep the shop running smooth. There’s finally a moment of calm around 8 pm, right before closing. I send the baristas home, thanking them for their work today. There are a few people sitting around, reading and chatting. A smile spread across my face as I remember the day I decided to open these cafes. My dream was to have a place where everyone felt at home, surrounded by literature and good drinks. The door chime brings me back to reality, I look up only to meet those green eyes. Jake smirks as he walks towards the counter, “I had to stop by to see if it was really you.” I lean on the counter, “Well Jake, here I am. Can I get you anything?” “I’ll take a black coffee.” He tries to hand me cash but I refuse, “It’s on the house.” I hand him his coffee and he raises an eyebrow, “How have you been? Your hair is darker.” “I’ve been good. Yourself?” He shrugs, “Same here. It’s been a long time, Y/n.” I look down at my hands, “Yes it has.” He leans in, “Mom called when you opened your first cafe. Said she goes there all the time.” Nodding, I smile, “She does. Always makes my day seeing Cyndy.” He rubs his hand through his hair, “When do you close? Maybe we could go somewhere and… catch up?” For a moment I want to say yes, but then the memories of the heartbreak resurface. I swallow the lump in my throat, “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Jake.” Sadness washes over his face, “Well, I’ll see you around. Thank you for the coffee.” As I watch him walk away, my heart aches. How can I be angry at someone and still want them at the same time?

.

.

Jake stops by the shop every morning for the rest of the week. Every time I see him walking up, I make myself busy in the back. I’m only here for the next few weeks to make sure the shop starts off on the right foot, then I can go home and leave these thoughts of Jake behind. It’s Friday night, right before closing and I send the rest of the staff home. Lots of people are sitting around, playing board games and laughing. I get comfy behind the counter, rereading Sherlock for the umpteenth time. “Evening, Y/n. Long week?” Jake smiles as I stand up, getting him a black coffee, “Very. Happy about the turnout.” He takes a sip, “Any chance we could talk?” I check my watch, “We close in 5 minutes, you could hang around while I clean up.” A smile spreads across his whole face. People head out and I flip the open sign to closed, starting the long process of cleaning the machines and shutting everything off for the night. Jake clears his throat, “I’ve missed you.” I sigh, “Jake…” “Not just like that. You were my best friend for as long as I can remember. When our relationship ended, I wasn’t ready for our friendship to end too.” Tears start to form in my eyes and I turn away from him, “I didn’t know how to go back to best friends.” “Did you get my letters?” When I finally meet his eyes again, they’re searching mine for any answer. I nod. “Did you read them?” I shake my head. The stack of letters is in a box in my office. Unopened. Unread. The only guy I had dated that I thought could work found them one day. He broke up with me, saying that I wouldn’t have kept them if I didn’t care about him. I fiddle with the espresso machine, “I have them. I just couldn’t read them, Jake.” He walks behind the counter, wiping the tear that fell down my cheek. His touch sends a shiver down my spine. It always has. His voice lowers, “Just tell me why.”

.

.

*6 years before*

Our love story was like a cheesy movie. We grew up together. Jake was 2 years older than me. Wherever he went, I followed. All throughout school, our neighborhood, even summer vacations. Jake and Y/n. Our Mom’s always joked that we would grow up and get married. When we were young we’d respond, “Ewww!!!!”. But as we got older, the feelings started to change. My crush on Jake grew and grew. He went to college at UT, then a couple years later I got accepted too. He helped me set up my freshman dorm and he looked different. More toned. More tan. Jake was no longer the tall and awkward teenage boy, but a strong and beautiful man. I didn’t know how he felt about me. I was too scared to ask him. Jake was so popular around campus, he could have any girl he wanted. One night I was walking back to my dorm crying. Some boy had asked me out, but never showed up at the restaurant. I was so embarrassed. Jake was coming out of the library when he ran up to me. He took me back to his apartment and he turned on one of our favorite movies to make me feel better. That night, he looked at me different. There was something in his eyes. That’s when he kissed me for the first time. The rest was history. When he graduated, he went off to boot camp and started his military career. I was so proud of him. He wrote to me whenever he could. He even made it back for my graduation, just to surprise me. But that night, everything changed. Jake told me about his new dream, being a Navy Pilot. I smiled, “Where will you be out of? Corpus?” He looked down, “Florida for a few weeks. Then I want to go to Top Gun… in California.” My brain tried to figure out a new plan. One where I could keep my new job I was so excited about, but somehow be wherever Jake is. The panic set in and he grabbed my hands, “Marry me. I don’t have a ring but I’ll get you one. Come with me, please.” Tears filled my eyes, “Jake… I… I can’t.” He stood there, shocked, as I ran away crying.

.

.

*Present day*

I take a deep breath, “I came here looking for you, Jake. 6 years ago. Cyndy told me where to find you. When I got to the bar, I saw you taking a girl back to your truck. Y’all left. I figured you had moved on and I couldn’t be angry at you because I was the one that ended everything. So I went back home.” His eyes well up, “I’m an idiot. Some rebound, one night stand kept the love of my life away?” I whisper, “I didn’t know. Jake, I was so scared.” He put his face in his hands, “I’m the one that changed the plan. I was gonna stay in Texas. We could’ve been together. I just fell in love with flying. I’m sorry.” I place my hand on his shoulder, “Don’t apologize, Jake. I am happy for you. You wouldn’t have been happy if you stayed in Texas.” His green eyes meet mine, “But I would have you.” “We were kids. Who knows if we would’ve made it.” He rests his hand on top of mine, “Do you have someone?” I shake my head, thinking of all of my failed relationships since Jake. He thinks for a moment, “Why?” I close my eyes, debating whether or not I want to tell him. My heart wins the argument against my brain, “Because none of them were you.”

[iichfilwypj]

── percy jackson x fem!reader

ralph macchio >>> any man

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

“Oh my god.”

The sound of his girlfriend’s voice made Percy tear his gaze away from the screen, where The Karate Kid II was playing. When he noticed the way her eyes gleamed as she bit her lip, he lifted a confused eyebrow.

"What? What is it?" he asked, adjusting himself on the couch, pulling her closer so she was more comfortably snuggled against him.

She turned her head toward him slowly, her face a perfect blend of adoration and mischief.

"Did you see that?" she whispered, stretching her leg from under the blanket that covered them both to point at the screen.

Percy smiled, a little smug as he took hold of her leg, placing it on his lap and stroking it, his fingers brushing against her skin as he recalled the kick the protagonist had just done.

Really? he asked himself. I’ve got a sword, a flying horse, and a massive list of monsters I’ve killed, and she’s impressed by that?

“Pff, ¿the kick? I can do that—”

“He's so fucking hot.”

Percy froze for a second, his grip on her leg tightening. His eyes widened slightly. “What? You think he’s hot?”

She laughed, eyes twinkling as she saw the blush creeping up his neck. “Of course I do! Are you seeing him? He's perfect, literally.”

“Oh, and you say that like it's nothing! In front of your boyfriend! So, I'm hearing that you'd trade me for some random guy—”

“He’s not a random guy!” she interjected, still trying to control her giggles. “Are you jealous? He’s like sixty now.”

“No! I’m not jealous!” Percy protested, crossing his arms defensively, but the jealousy was clear in his tone.

He couldn’t help himself; it was too easy to imagine her with the super cool and hot guy on screen.

“Actually, you should be jealous! I could totally get with him.”

“Oh, you want to get with him?”

“No!” Percy replied quickly, a little too fast. But she was too close, and the way she was grinning made him lose all composure. “I’m just saying, I could.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying how flustered he was. “Uh-huh, sure,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his arm.

Percy tried to stay calm, but her teasing smile made it impossible. After a few moments of silence where they both continued watching the movie, Percy finally said;

“You know? Elisabeth Shue is actually so—”

“Percy Jackson!”

WAIT DOES "get with him" MAKES SENSE? I LOOKED IT UP AND IT MAKES SENSE TO ME BUT ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE AND MAYBE IT DOESN´T MEAN WHAT I THINK 😭😭😭anywayy love you all

[nahoney22]

Liar Liar (Part 3/?)

🫧Part Three - Sniffed Out // <<< Part Two

🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox x Female Reader

🫧 word count: 2.4k

🫧 Chapter Summary: When the opportunity arises for you to see Whisky again, you take it with both hands. But as suspicion grows amongst the Corrie Guard, Hound wants to sniff out the truth.

🫧 Warnings: Safe for work, more lying, slight angst, sad and guilty Fox.

“I need you to take this to the hangar and give it to the officer in charge when you get the chance.”

You barely heard the rest of Thorn’s sentence before your brain jumped at the opportunity laid out before you like a gift from the Maker themselves.

“I’ll do it!” you blurted out, practically leaping to your feet.

Every trooper in the room turned to stare at you. Stone and Thorn exchanged a glance, while Hound raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. From his desk, Fox, who had been focused on his holoreports, was now staring directly at you, visor unmoving.

“…Aren’t you busy here?” Thorn asked after a beat, skepticism lacing his tone.

“She can do it,” Stone cut in, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

“No, you won’t,” Fox said flatly.

Stone, still lounging like he owned the place, rolled his eyes and mouthed the words back in an exaggerated imitation. You bit your cheek to keep from laughing.

Thorn hesitated before ultimately shrugging and handing you the file. “Alright, knock yourself out. Just don’t disappear on us.”

You grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Commander.”

As you leave, rather eagerly and with a bounce in your step, it isn’t long after until Fox stands up and is ready to leave too.

“And where exactly are you going?” Thorn asked, arms crossing as Fox passed him.

“I’m heading to the Senate,” Fox replied smoothly.

Thorn tilted his helmet at him, unimpressed. “You haven’t received a transmission to go.”

Fox hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before replying, “I was asked to attend yesterday by the Chancellor himself, if you must know.”

Thorn still didn’t look convinced. “Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Be my guest.” With a dramatic flourish, he gestured toward the door. “Please. Don’t let me stop you.”

Fox grumbled something under his breath before striding out, the door hissing shut behind him.

The second he was gone, Thorn turned back to the group. “Okay, what the kriff was that?”

“Not a clue,” Stone said, propping his boots up on the nearest control panel. “Though, I did hear something interesting.”

Thorn raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Stone’s smirk deepened. “Apparently, Fox apologised to her last night.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Fox? Apologised? ” Thire repeated, skeptical.

“That’s what I heard,” Stone said with a shrug. “One of the boys saw them talking— laughing , even.” He pointed at Thorn. “And when’s the last time you saw Fox laugh?”

Thorn hummed in thought, but before he could answer, Hound, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up.

“I think they’re seeing each other.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

Stone burst out laughing. “Oh yeah? Does she know that? ”

Thire snorted, shaking his head. “Come on, Hound, you really think Fox of all people is sneaking around with someone?”

Hound crossed his arms. “I’m just saying—she was acting giddy all morning, went out of her way to keep his caf warm, and now she’s jumping at the chance to head to the hangar the second an opportunity presents itself.”

“She’d do that for any of us,” Thorn pointed out. “She’s always been that way.”

“Alright, maybe,” Hound admitted. “But isn’t it weird how she leaves, and then he just happens to leave right after?”

“Maybe he actually was called to the Senate,” Thire offered.

Hound shook his head. “Fox never leaves without a direct transmission. And he sure as hell doesn’t look that flustered unless something’s up.”

Stone, still grinning, gave a lazy shrug. “Or maybe he’s just finally losing it. Wouldn’t be surprising.”

“Wouldn’t be surprising if you lost it,” Hound shot back, pointing at him. “Still waiting on Fox to apologise for blaming Grizzer when you were the one who stole from the ration box.”

Stone gasped, feigning offense. “I would never —”

Thorn sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, enough. Can we please get back to work?”

Hound stood, stretching out his arms before securing his helmet. “Not me. I’m taking Grizzer for a walk.”

Thorn barely had time to argue before Hound was already heading for the door, leaving only Stone and Thire behind.

Thorn looked between them, unimpressed. “Can I expect either of you to actually do something useful?”

Stone just grinned. “Define useful .”

⋅───⊱༺  🦊 ༻⊰───⋅

You dropped off the document for Thorn and lingered around, your eyes scanning the corridors and stations absentmindedly. You’d expected to run into Whisky by now—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But after a few minutes, you started to wonder if perhaps he was stationed somewhere else today.

Just as you turned toward to leave, a voice called out your name.

You whipped around, and there he was. Whisky.

He jogged toward you, a mechanic helmet perched on top of his head, adorned in a set of mechanic gear. His breathing was heavy, as if he had just sprinted across the entire base. You couldn’t help but smile as your heart fluttered in your chest.

He was a little out of breath as he came to a stop in front of you, still catching his breath.

"Hi," you say almost breathlessly, suddenly reminded of just how handsome he looks up close. You take a quick breath to steady yourself. "You okay? You look like you just ran a marathon."

Whisky chuckles, catching his breath. "Yeah, something like that. Just had to get away from some...work. Nothing major." He waves it off with a casual shrug.

"So, you alright?" He asks, his eyes flickering over you before quickly darting around, as though he’s checking for someone.

You notice his unease and a wave of guilt washes over you. "Sorry, I... I can leave if you're busy," you offer, feeling like you might have interrupted something or perhaps read the other night's conversation wrong.

Whisky’s eyes widen for a moment as he realises how his actions might've appeared. "What? No! Sorry, I just don’t want my boss to catch me slacking off." He looks around quickly, spotting an empty room nearby. "Come with me."

A jitter of excitement stirs in you as he takes your hand, the warmth of his fingers sending a shiver up your spine. He pulls you into the room, and the door hisses shut behind you both. Whisky relaxes visibly once inside, letting out a breath as he flashes you a wide grin. "There, that's better."

"I was running an errand for Commander Thorn," you begin, trying to sound casual. "Dropped off a file and figured I'd see if I could run into you—guess I got lucky." You leave out the part where you were hoping to see him, though your smile betrays you.

Whisky grins, his eyes softening as they settle on you. "Well, I’m glad you did," he says, his voice low. "Because, honestly... I was hoping to see you again."

You blink in surprise, your heart skipping a beat. "You were?"

"Yeah," he chuckles, stepping a little closer. "You left quite the impression on me."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. The moment feels charged, and you notice him reaching out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. The touch is soft, intimate. His fingers linger a little longer than necessary but you really didn’t mind.

"So, what's been going on with you?" he asks after a moment, his voice quieter now, almost as if he’s asking something more personal.

You pause, wondering how much to share, but decide to be honest. "Funny thing... Fox, uh, Commander Fox, actually apologised to me today." You chew on your bottom lip, the memory of the interaction still fresh. "He was acting so strange, though... you didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?"

Whisky smirks, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "What makes you think I did?"

“Just because I told you he was quite a hard arse on me and then the next day he was all apologetic.” You explain. “But I don’t know, just a coincidence, no?”

He looks away for a moment as if considering it. "Well, maybe he's just starting to realise how important you are."

You hum in contemplation, considering his words but not fully convinced. "I don’t know about that, but... it was nice of him, I guess."

Whisky steps a little closer, his voice turning more playful. "Well, maybe he's just waking up to the fact that he’s lucky to have someone like you around." He pauses, a teasing lilt to his voice. "But enough about Fox. We were talking about you and what we should do.”

Your heart flutters again at his words, and you can’t help but chuckle. "Oh, really? And what exactly were you planning to do with me?"

A mischievous gleam appears in his eyes. "How about a walk? I know this really nice spot, and I think you'd like it."

You raise an eyebrow, teasing him right back. "A nice spot? Is that so?"

"Yeah," Whisky says with a sly grin, "It’s quiet, beautiful... just the right place for a little... conversation."

The flirtation in the air is undeniable and you could feel yourself getting hotter by the second. "Well, that sounds interesting. When are you free?"

"Two days from now.”

“That’s convenient because I am too! Unless a certain Commander needs me to hold down the fort.” You roll your eyes but excitement builds in you. Was this a date?

Before you can respond, your comm link buzzes in your pocket. You sigh, pulling it out. "Looks like I’m needed back at my station."

"Guess I’ll let you go then." He steps back, giving you space as you turn to leave. "I’ll be looking forward to that walk."

You flash him one last smile as you make your way to the door. "Me too." The door hisses open, and you glance back one last time, catching him watching you with that same warm smile.

Fox lets out a sigh of relief as the door hisses shut behind you, the tension easing from his shoulders. But the relief is short-lived as a smile tugs at his lips, the memory of your laughter and the way your eyes lit up lingering in his mind. He’d just managed to secure more time alone with you, and the anticipation was already thrumming in his chest. Yet, a pang of guilt crept in, twisting his stomach.

Fox ran a hand down his face, groaning softly. “Kriff, what am I doing?” he muttered.

He should tell you the truth, come clean before this went any further. But the thought of you looking at him differently, of that brightness in your eyes dimming… He hesitated, leaning heavily against the desk behind him. “I’ll sort it out,” he promised himself. “I just need a little more time.”

As he turned to leave, the door slid open with a sharp hiss. For a brief moment, hope sparked in his chest thinking you had come back. But the hope shattered instantly when his eyes landed on Hound, who stood in the doorway, arms folded and a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well… Nice new gear, Commander. Got a new job you didn’t tell us about?” Sarcasm dripped from every word, and Fox felt his blood run cold.

He opened his mouth to explain, but nothing came out. He must have looked like a cadet caught sneaking out after curfew because Hound’s grin only widened.

“I mean, I always thought you could use a break from all that work, but I didn’t think you’d go full-time mechanic,” Hound continued, his voice teasing but laced with curiosity. Then, his expression softened, and he clapped a hand on Fox’s shoulder. “Look, if you and her are seeing each other, your secret’s safe with me. Honestly, good for you, Fox.”

Fox’s shoulders sagged, but the relief didn’t come this time. He looked away, staring hard at the floor, his jaw clenched.

Hound’s smile faltered. “What’s up? I thought you’d be happier about this. I mean, she’s brilliant.”

Fox’s mouth felt dry, the words sticking to the back of his throat before he finally forced them out. “She doesn’t know it’s me.”

Hound blinked. “What?”

“She doesn’t know it’s me,” Fox repeated, his voice low, almost ashamed. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of his own words settling heavily in his chest. “She thinks I’m just a mechanic.”

Hound’s mouth fell open, and he looked at Fox as if he’d just grown a second head. “How? She has eyes, doesn’t she?”

Fox let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. It all started at 79’s.”

He closed his eyes, the memory flooding back.

He remembered sitting alone at the bar, nursing a drink after you had told him the boys wanted him to come out and let loose for one. And despite attending, he still found himself wanting to be alone and just trying to forget the chaos of that week. But then he’d heard your voice, laughing and teasing your friend. It was the first time he’d heard you laugh, really laugh, and it made his chest feel tight. He’d watched you from the corner of his eye, the way your face lit up, how animated you were as you spoke.

Then, you’d looked at him, just a passing glance, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him. He looked away quickly, feeling weird for staring. But he couldn’t help himself, stealing glances whenever he thought you weren’t looking.

“I thought she knew who I was,” Fox admitted, his voice rough. “But she didn’t. She didn’t recognise me. And… I just went along with it. I didn’t think it would go this far.”

Hound’s face softened, his arms unfolding as he leaned back against the doorframe. “Fox, what the hell did you get yourself into?”

Fox ran a hand down his face again, the weight of his lie pressing down on him. “I don’t know. I can’t get out of it. I just keep digging myself deeper. She’s… she’s got this way of looking at me, like I’m someone worth knowing.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with Fox’s confession. He looked up at Hound, his expression conflicted. “I really messed up, didn’t I?”

Hound let out a slow breath. “Yeah, you did.”

Part One - 79's

Part Two - Reflection

Part Three - Sniffed Out

Part Four - Dreams and Nightmares

Or read on AO3 here for more parts

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[mrs-starkgaryen]

Maggie I'm sorry I didn't write this essay, as you know I was not impressed with how the last chapter went 😭😂

Me as I read chapter 5:

This is a long one so get comfy, have a drink and listen- 📖

1. When Baela wanders out of the bathroom in a fuzzy purple robe and a gale of steam, she finds you dressed in your grey work uniform and sprinkling a packet of flower food you got from the Rite Aid down the street into the vase of sunflowers. You are smiling to yourself; you can’t seem to stop.

A) she just sounds as if she's on an advert for something 😫 or modelling on the cat walk, amongst the smoke machines. Like effortlessly cool, you what I mean?

B) like she's always model ready and glam. Like she's always camera ready 📷📸

C) whereas sunshine is in grey and buying things from a cheap shop (I presume?)

D) aw she's cock drunk in love, cute

2. “Heyyyyy!” Baela says, slow and salacious, hoping for interesting stories. You very rarely have any to share. “How’d the Maroon 5 shoot go? Not so bad, right?”

A) I'm getting vibes from B, she sounds okay sometimes but totally fake the other times- Hollywood baby, gotta be careful who u trust

B) and it went absolutely great

3. “It was good.” You rearrange the sunflowers, pruning any leaves that have begun to wilt. Daylight streams in through the windows; outside you can see power lines, palm trees, a shopping center featuring—among other things—a Starbucks, World Star Vape, and Carl’s Jr.

A) Sunshine is trying to keep a dying thing alive- like her dreams? Her need to be constantly happy? Her ‘cursed’ relationship with Aegon?

B) Everything Is sunny & happy & lively … for now

C) 3 places with addicting things or quick fixes… like a certain relationship? For both parties?

4. “And you survived the bathtub thing, I see.” Her tone implies that you were ridiculous to ever fear you wouldn’t, childish, ignorant, histrionic.

A) How condescending

B) Some people are different and Sunshine shouldn't have to go through that to get famous

C) It's sad to think some actors/actresses would have had to

5. “What?” She reaches into the refrigerator and removes a plastic bowl full of raspberries, sets it down on the kitchen counter, eats absentmindedly as she stares at you. “Really? Why not?”

A) What a healthy choice

B) is She just programmed To eat healthy like for HW aesthetic? (Couldnt be me)

C) Rather have doughnuts

6. You shrug, a little shy but desperately wanting to tell somebody, because that will make it real. Blood burns in your face. “Aegon saved me.”

A) Don't tell B

B) Aw Sunshine is so cute, she thinks of Aegon as her Prince or Knight in shining armour

C) But will he just remove the helmet and show that hes not the hero she thought he was

7. Baela’s eyes narrow and her brow crinkles. You find yourself—as you often do—casually in awe of the smoothness of her skin, the perfect arches of her eyebrows, her expressiveness that is never inelegant. She chews her raspberries very slowly. “Seriously?”

A) She always seem perfect, HW ready

B) Drop the skincare Routine girl

C) Shes angry chewing 😭

8. Her jaw drops open; there’s berry juice on her teeth like blood. “How? Where?!”

A) She Sounds like a predator animal with Sunshine in her sights

B) More untrustworthy vibes

C) I reckon she might screw Sunshine over by telling the tabloids about her Relationship with Aegon, to level uo her career. Or does it out of anger when ss gets more famous than her? Sabotage?

D) pretends to be a friend but is a villain in the end, like Scream

9. “No, remember, he’s not married. He’s just engaged.”

A) Yeah!😠…😶… yeah🫠…

B) I love you SS, but that's not the hair that we should be splitting…

10. “It’s the same thing!” Baela exclaims, and she has completely forgotten about her raspberries. “You’re a cheater, how does that make you feel?”

A) Can't argue with B on this, still bad

B) Lets be a bit nicer to SS please, she's just a baby (but she does need telling)

11. You shake your head; she doesn’t understand. “I know it sounds bad, but when I’m with Aegon…he’s just so…he’s so protective and he’s smart and he’s brave and he actually believes in me, he’s the only person who doesn’t think I’m hopeless and delusional, and he’s always trying to help me, and there’s something about when we’re together that just feels…magical!”

A) Girl, SS, write some fanfic, geez 😅

B) She in love love

C) She in love love (like me)

D) Also me when I try to excuse men's behaviours on dating sites 🙄

12. “Of course it’s magical!” Baela bursts out, and now Jace is peeking blearily out of her bedroom, his dark curls in disarray. “He’s a fuckboy, that’s what they do! He gives you some otherworldly encapsulated experience that leaves you dickmatized but it’s not real, because then he goes home and he does the same thing with his soon-to-be-wife, and then the next day he’s probably hooking up with some other impressionable starstruck client, and you’re standing here thinking you have something special with him when he’s already onto the next girl!”

A) You've woken the baby (Jace), B

B) Dickmatized- don't we all want that to be that

C) So… weird thought but has something Like that happened to B with a manager or dare I say it, Aegon?

D) Or does she know him better than we think?

13. You can’t imagine that being true, and yet you wonder without wanting to: why did he have condoms in his desk drawer? “I don’t think he’s happy with Becca.”

A) i asked about the condoms!! It was sus

B) Me with all my celebrity crushes- “I don't think he's happy with [ ]

C) also what condoms does he use? 👀

14. You look down at your shoes, uninspired white Skechers for work, ashamed. “I guess not.”

A) Woah I wear white sketchers Mags

B) They're comfy lol

15. “Who talks shit about Jace?” Jace asks from the doorway of her bedroom.

A) poor Jace

B) But also maggie does- I've seen what she does to your in fanfics… 👀

16. “—They say he’s a hobosexual and lazy and jobless and whatever, but that man is loyal, he doesn’t even look at other women, and I wouldn’t trade him for anybody. Because apparently it’s extremely fucking rare to find someone who won’t get naked for the first stranger who promises to make all their wildest dreams come true.”

A) Jace just standing there like-

B) It's okay Jace, I know you're better than that (Im actually looking forward to your future fic)

17. .. you remember years ago finding the emails between your father and that hospital intern, and you marvel at how easy it is to fixate on one star and lose sight of the constellation.

A) The last line 😘👌

B) We all make mistakes but she's only done it the once… but will it stay like that? 👀

C) It's easy to judge until you're in that position..

18. Baela tosses the empty plastic bowl into the kitchen sink—it rattles harshly there—and casts you a hard glare as she stalks towards her bedroom in her purple bathrobe. “I am so disappointed in you.”

A) Plastic, plastic, plastic- v much like HW

B) Easy to throw away… Careless of what she does and who she hurts (my tabloid theory)

C) Alright mum sheesh

19. Baela stops and turns around, and now her face is all pity, like you’re too pathetic to stay mad at, like you aren’t cognizant enough to be held responsible. “Yeah. We’re still going to see the fireworks.”

A) Me with my dog, can't stay mad at my baby

20. “Jace can stay here when I’m in Paris, right?” Baela asks. “He swears he’ll vacuum and take the garbage out and stuff. And you know he won’t fill up the sink with dirty dishes, he basically only eats takeout.”

A) Oh so he is capable of looking after himself..

B) SS please make him a proper meal, he needs nutrition

C) I hope SS and Jace bond whilst B ain't there, like best besties but will that only upset Aegon more if he finds out?

21. All afternoon as you are bent low scraping scoops of ice cream out of the freezer and mashing in mix-ins on the chilled countertop, each time the glass door opens and the string of bells jangle you look up to see if it’s Aegon, because maybe he’s found you another job or maybe he just misses you, and he’s daydreaming of you now in the sweltering sunshine that rains down golden and cloudless. But your only customers are strangers: flocks of influencers in yoga pants who pick at Like It-sized sorbets, flustered mothers trying to relay their lisping children’s orders, giggling couples on dates who you love watching, the way their eyes are alight and their fingers forever ache to intertwine.

A) Even as she's in hell at work, her Salve is Aegon (even if he dont show up)

B) Aw she misses Aegon (me too)

C) I hate couples too gorl, how dare they be happy, rubbing it in our faces

22. … your breathing still labored from the hike and guzzling cans of La Croix that Baela packed, awful as always but not so bad when you feel like you’re dying of thirst. As you wait for the fireworks to start, you take a few selfies with the distant incandescent mirage of Downtown to the northeast, towards Chinatown and Elysian Park, towards Apple Valley, Minnesota if you drove far enough.

A) Me and Sunshine are the same? Both hating walks? Damn

B) That drink, she only likes it when it's her last resort. Like any products of HW- she will do anything but that but uses it when she has no other choice? like plastic surgery, etc

C) Shes being pulled in so many directions. What will she choose? Hw & fame or Minnesota, home?

23. In the two minutes you spend debating whether to watch it, he has seen yours, liked it, and replied: Miss America 2025.

A) Alright babe, a bit of a stalker

B) He can calm Down too lmao- so flirty & thirsty (it should be me 😫)

24. “What are you grinning about?” Baela asks from where she is sitting in Jace’s lap, his arms around her waist, and you can’t tell her because you don’t want to make her mad again.

A) Stalker 2

B) Leave Ss to be happy

C) Unless B is sus and has an idea of who SS is talking to…

25. “Just something my sister sent me.” You click on Aegon’s story; he is standing beside a massive grill covered with hotdogs and hamburger patties, wielding a pair of tongs, and wearing his aviator sunglasses and a green apron with seemingly nothing underneath. You like it and reply: I have literally never wanted a hotdog so bad in my life.

A) Bl**dy hell, she's thirsty too

B) But Mags, that image was too hot

C) Like was he naked? 👀

D) I'm a vegetarian but I'd break it for his sausage

26. “You better post the picture we took together,” Baela tells you. “We looked cute as fuck!”

A) Alright B, calm down

B) Why don't you post it?

C) Sort of controlling? Like she never asks, just sort of demands?

27. “You were okay,” Baela says, and they both laugh.

A) i know couples joke but she's never very complimentary with him

B) He deserves better

C) I reckon she could drop him to up her career cuz he's not famous, and seems like a waste

28. “It’s a really good photo,” you agree. And it proves that you have friends to do activities with, that you aren’t quite as pathetic and alone in Los Angeles as your parents and Clara and Tripp and Mason might think. You post it as a story: you and Baela smiling together, Jace in the background brandishing a peace sign. You add a bunch of red, white, and blue hearts for decoration. Aegon watches your new story within a few minutes, but he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even like it. You frown down at your screen, confused.

A) She needs some friends (please Jace)

B) As an instagram story so its not around forever (like B's presence will Not be)

C) Ooh why he mad? I hate men lmao

29. “Oh look, it’s starting, it’s starting!” Baela says excitedly, and now there are booming explosions in the darkening sky and threads of shimmering remnants descending like falling stars.

A) Yes it's starting… the drama & explosions start now

30. You are early for your appointment because you want to see Aegon again, and you don’t even try to tell yourself it’s for any other reason. It’s Tuesday, July 8th, and there are still charred firework wrappers and singed sparklers strewn on the sidewalk. You find a parking spot a ways down the street from Aegon’s half-duplex and trot to the front door. You are wearing your tan TOMS wedges, a top the color of dark fertile earth, a green maxi skirt, and swampy verdant eyeshadow to match: matte brown Rewind and sparkly emerald Damaged, both by Urban Decay.

A) Atleast she ain't delusional, that helps

B) He's in such a dump - shows that LA ain't all the glitz and glam- will Sunshine see that?

C) Very dark, earthy tones… calm before the storm?

D) ‘Rewind’ she wants to go back to that night, ‘Damaged’ she will be after this conversation

31. "Aegon must be hella stressed lately because he’s always mixing things up and forgetting appointments, then he yells at me but feels bad about it afterwards and pays me overtime. Well worth it! I think it’s the wedding. Becca’s constantly showing up asking for his opinion about cakes and decorations and whatever and it’s just a lot.”

A) Oh he's always mixing things up… hopefully he'll mix up his fiance soon

B) Becca stresses him out! SS doesn't.. see how that could work

32. Mario is traversing a narrow stone pathway surrounded by a sea of blood-red lava. Aegon’s tank top is the color of the pine trees back in Minnesota; the unbuttoned short-sleeve Oxford shirt he’s thrown overtop is white and wrinkled. The room has been tidied up... Honeycrisp apples filling up a bowl that is blue china instead of plain bone-colored ceramic.

A) Mario again… reflecting Aegon’s medical journey/ life

B) Narrow- meaning he can only go one way in life (get married, give up LA and whatever else)

C) Blood-red lava- either Mario is the disease in his body/ bloodstream (narrow- vein)

D) His tank is the colour of the trees from her home? He's her home?

E) Also earthy colour, they're matching. Both each other’s home

F) Wrinkled white top- he's a disgruntled angel (he's trying his best to help SS) (or dying soon lmao)

G) He's still got a piece of her around, the apples (highlighted in colour, not the plain white of LA)

33. “Hey,” Aegon says, glancing at you but still clicking buttons and swiveling the joystick on his transluscent orange controller.

A) He's paying half attention to her.. whilst he also concentrates on the game (his medical issues taking over his life whilst he tries to be there for her?)

34. “Are you winning?” you ask, meaning the game. Mario veers off the precarious walkway and into the lava, screams and tries to leap to safety, sails over a stone island, hits the lava again and dies.

A) she cares about his interests and him 😭

B) Does she distract him? And is there bad repercussions? (Becca leaving?)

C) Aegon/ Mario is struggling to get back to safety?

35. Aegon chuckles; he sounds tired. His bruised knuckles, five days gone, have sickened to a ghastly green and plumes of opaque violet. “I guess not.” He turns off the Nintendo 64. “How was your 4th of July?”

36. Aegon gives you a disapproving look like he doesn’t quite believe you. You can’t fathom why. “I might have another job for you.”

A) He's tired 😫

A) He's jealous girl

B) We love to see it

37. “Really? Great!” But despite the good news, you’re beginning to feel like you’re sinking. You keep waiting for Aegon to acknowledge what happened here, what you both did, what you were to each other even if only for a few hours under the cover of darkness.

A) Sinking… like the Titantic reference from the first chapter in this office

B) I feel bad vibes about to happen

38. “There’s a casting call for a very minor part in a new Marvel movie. I’m sure that’s not exactly your dream role, and it’s not really what I see you doing either, but you said you’d take anything and it’s an opportunity to get you in front of some big-name people. So I booked you a spot.”

A) We love Marvel (just watched Marvel today actually lmao)

B) SS would be cute as a superhero or sidekick

C) Aegons so clever

39. “I’m keeping an eye on the indie projects that make it to pre-production. I can imagine you shining in a niche little thriller, maybe a romantic drama…you do angry really well, you know. Which is strange, because you’re never angry in real life. But that’s what makes you an actress. You become other kinds of people.”

A) He doesn't see her angry… I feel like he just needs to wait lmao

B) also he might also underestimate her himself? Cuz she seems nice all the time?

C) A romantic drama? No need babe, she's already in one

40. Aegon studies you, his Nike Killshots still resting lazily on his desk. His blonde hair is slicked back from his face; his eyes are a remote somber blue like the ocean through an airplane window. “You alright, sunshine?”

A) What is it about these shoes??

B) He's so beautiful ugh

C) And he cares 😭

41. Slowly, Aegon smiles, and there’s something about his voice that strikes you as smug, maybe taunting, maybe even cruel. “It was that good for you, huh?”

A) Nevermind, jackass

B) But I'd still swoon 😅

C) After punching him

D) is this the real him or an act?

42. Aegon is stunned. He scrambles to his feet. “What—?”

A) Well done, you've made her upset

B) Me too

C) be nicer with your words, you know she's sensitive

43. “Then come back here.”

A) Me skipping my way back after that demand

B) Anything for you King

C) I need higher standards lmao but I blame it on him

44. Aegon sits down too, places his elbows on his desk, laces his fingers together and presses them against his lips as he gazes at you, his large blue eyes glossy and pained. After a while, he says quietly: “This is exactly what I didn’t want. For you to be hurt, for you to be sad.”

A) Ooh he serious

B) Stop with the eyes 😫🥰 ill forgive him too easily 🙈 I won't look

C) He throws my emotions everywhere, I know he cares but stop fucking around lmao

45. On the way here, Aegon stopped at an In-N-Out Burger. You said you didn’t want anything when he asked—you have no appetite whatsoever—but at the drive-thru window he ordered two cheeseburger combos: Cherry Cokes, grilled onions on the burgers, Animal-Style fries. He paid in cash, because he is full of deceit, or at least that is what you told yourself.

A) Idk what to think Of him ordering her food when she didn't want anything?

B) Was he doing it cuz he worries she might not be able to afford a lot of food? Or to remind her not to fall for the fame fad diets?

C) Like someone else said, does he pay in cash so he knows how much he Spent that day due to forgetting?

D) Or is he given an allowance by family or Becca?

E) He loves his Cherry cokes in your fanfic… Do you like cherry Coke by any chance maggie? 😂

46. “Do you want to get skin cancer? Are you trying to look like Clint Eastwood when you’re forty?”

A) Wear that sunscreen bitch

B) Does he think it's useless as he's dying anyway?

47. He gives you an irritated smirk but takes the sunscreen and halfheartedly mists himself with it… Aegon takes large, sloppy bites of his burger, grease dribbling down his fingers; you can only manage queasy nibbles at your own. In the waves, surfers are paddling far out and then riding swells back in, skittering to a stop in shallow water or being dragged under by the gleaming sapphire currents. California gulls squawk overhead and dive greedily when Aegon throws them some of his fries. To the north is a jetty of stones to mark the territorial boundary between the surfers and the swimmers; to the south is a long wooden pier for fishing.

C) He might not make it to 40 😫😭

D) just googled CE, he's 94 damn. Also he did have skin cancer, bless him

A) He does anything for SS 🥹

B) Hes so messy, i find it hot- imagine him eating you out like that 🥵

C) Also how he eats without a care in the world, whereas she nibbles, cuz she has to be cautious? But he's already made his money

D) The surfers are riding high on waves just to be brought down by the same thing?- Fame

E) Gulls are the paparazzi and not leaving u alone and eating the scraps they can get

F) There's a clear divide between the surfers and the swimmers (hmmm)

A) zodiac Calendar, fate. Is fate gonna intervene between them soon?

48. Aegon sighs and slurps his Cherry Coke, ice clinking around in the cardboard cup, red and white and reminding you of those zodiac calendars at Chinese restaurants. “I guess. I don’t know.”

B) He's confused. She's different to the other girls

C) But they shouldn't have done it cuz they're just gonna get hurt

A) Ooh slay? 😔

49. “It wasn’t the first time. I’m sure it’ll happen again at some point. It doesn’t change what I have with Becca.”

B) He truly isn't in love with Becca if he's doing this

50. “Never long-term,” Aegon amends.

C) Can I be the next time? 👀

51. “Marry me, girl, be my fairy to the world, be my very own constellation,

A) Cuz he can't do long-term, he won't be around for long enough so he just takes what care he can get from Becca- an easy marriage

A teenage bride with a baby inside getting high on information”

B) Teenager with a baby… like Becca who wanted more (a life with him)

A) Will he finally propose to SS later? just before it's too late? She's a Salve for him as much as he is For her

C) is Becca sneaky? Like is she gonna do something with all this information she has on him and his family as Revenge for being taken a mug of? - it's a Hollywood story, someone has to go to the tabloids lmao

A) Uh yes- this is how fanfics work

52. “You honestly believe I’d rip up the life I’ve have planned out for years for someone I met a month ago?”

B) Only one month??

A) Don't patronise her Aegon

53. “That’s adorable,” Aegon says, like you’re an idiot. After a moment he adds, rather combatively: “And if you’re such a one-dude kind of girl, who was that guy in your Instagram story?”

B) Oh and don't be jealous, you have no right lmao

54. “That’s his name? Jace? That’s not even a real name. That’s like James or Jason, but make it the trailer park remix.”

A) Sorry babe, forgot Aegon was in the the modern baby book of names 🙄

B) If you look in the Targaryen name book, Aegon means "a little bitch"

C) If you don't change your attitude, you'll be A(e)Gon(er) soon

55. Aegon rolls his eyes and shoves a handful of Animal-Style fries into his mouth, sopping with melted yellow cheese and grilled onions and secret-recipe spread that tastes suspiciously like Thousand Island salad dressing. “Right.”

A) That boy needs manners lmao

B) that's like another portion of food with more cheese 🧀- baby doesn't care about his health at all

C) He's distracting himself with food? Emotional eating?

A) Someone he trusts enough, he won't ever trust anyone with her

56. “Sure,” Aegon says, like he is being deliberately stoic. “But I need more time to find someone I trust enough.”

B) Hes putting on an act of nonchalance to not show the hurt he's feeling with her just asking for someone else

C) He will probably try and delay it as much as he can

A) He's calling her bluff

57. Aegon looks at you, a challenge, a dare. “Do you really want to never see me again?”

58. Aegon scoffs. “Oh, come on.”

B) And she doesn't babe

A) Don't be a baby- answer the question

59. “Are you twelve years old?” Aegon says, then slurps forcefully on his Cherry Coke. “Life is more complicated than that.”

B) he doesnt want to say cuz he doesn't love Becca

A) Says the baby

B) it is true. Life is complicated

C) He's the grumpy realist and she's the optiminist. They balance each other- life isn't hard when they're together (ish)

D) Back to consuming to delay his answers

A) He' sparkles ✨️

60. Aegon gazes blankly out over the Pacific Ocean for a while, the breeze in his hair and the Coppertone Sport shimmering on his face, and then at last he turns to you. “Okay, listen,” Aegon begins. “About a year ago, Becca got pregnant.”

61. “Right. And I didn’t then either. So I told her I’d have absolutely nothing to do with it if she kept the baby, and that my preference was for her to terminate. And that’s what she did.”

B) And I oop-

C) I wonder if his final resting place will be the beach, he seems at peace here

B) He's a Bit rough

A) it must be something hereditary to not want to pass it on to his Kids cuz hes know how bad it is to deal with. He doesn't care about legacy whereas his dad did- but at what cost

C) I wonder if he would want the baby if it was Sunshine’s? - que baby? As a last piece of aegon?

62. “I’m not convinced it was unintentional,” Aegon is saying; you are only half-hearing him… “Becca told me that she moved out here to be an actress and a model, but I never saw her really pursuing that. Once we met, she jumped right into being the perfect caretaker, and some people are like that. They need someone to need them. She was great at it, it was all she wanted to do, looking after me and the house and the Targaryen family Hollywood bullshit that I can’t stand. And eventually Becca started dropping hints about getting married, and I ignored them. I think…maybe she thought having a baby would speed up the timeline. But now she knows how serious I am about not having children. And I’m a lot more careful.”

A) What girls have to do to feel secure in a relationship

B) but it also shows that's she manipulative? So what else can she do?

E) So Becca knows stuff about the family? Interesting..

C) Becca started out like SS? Does he help SS more because she actually has passion for it whereas Becca didn't?

D) I want to know about the Targs, they defo had an effect on him and why he hates HW

F) A lot more careful- as in he's stay away from Becca lmao

A) But you need To have to want her too, thats marriage aegon

63. “No,” Aegon says, exasperated that you don’t understand. “I’m marrying her because I’m who she wants, and she would do anything for me. And being with me is a sacrifice, right? So the least I can do is give her the official title. It works for both of us. It’s good for both of us.”

B) Both of you and ss want each other?

C) and he's sacrificing his own happiness by not being with SS

D) He's a curse to be with? Cuz he knows he's gonna go down a slippery slope later with his deteriorating health and he thinks ss wont stay/ doesn't need to see it in her happy world

A) She wants you to be the perfect guy she thought you were but everyone has their flaws

64. “I know,” Aegon snaps. “What do you want me to say? That I’m a fucking terrible person, that I’m a curse to everyone who cares about me? Sure, fine, okay, you got it. But to my knowledge I’m the only person in your corner, so let me help you for as long as I can.”

B) He's gonna be a curse to Sunshine? When he dies, she'll always remember him, like a lost love like Jack & Rose from Titantic (that you like to reference in this & aegon survived the last series of his)

C) He still wants to help and be close to her

A) See- whereas becca didn't Want to do it for the right reasons?

65. “Because you’re kind, and you’re gentle, and you’re real, and you want this for the right reasons, and I’m not going to let anybody beat that out of you.”

B) He's sick of fake people and she's real omg

C) Has she reopened his passion for being an agent?

A) He wants to be there

66. Aegon sighs, defeated. “Do you want to ride with me to the Marvel audition or do you want to drive yourself? It’s on Friday.”

B) But he also respects her choice

A) He's still upset over the Maroon 5 script

67. “In case something happens, obviously,” Aegon flares. “In case a director or an actor is a creep, in case they want you to do a dangerous stunt, it case they try to tell you to get surgery, in case they lie to you about the terms, in case a million other things go wrong. No one is going to listen to you, but because I’m a Targaryen they’ll listen to me.”

B) I love his protective energy.. cuz its “his job”... 😏

C) Whos gonna look after after he's gone 😭

D) How big are the Targs In this industry?

E) also it's v likely someone is a creep in any HW studio

68. “I’m the best you’ve got,” Aegon pitches back, and you sit with him in heavy silence under the sizzling afternoon sun for a long time, neither of you speaking, neither of you moving to leave.

A) Not just the heat being brutal, the angry tension too

B) They don't want to talk but they don't want to leave each other either

A) Not how they ended things last time..

69. An hour later, back in Elysian Park, Aegon parks his Sebring curbside and says Brandon will text you the address for the Marvel audition. You thank him briskly and impersonally. Aegon jogs up the concrete steps and into his half-duplex; you begin walking down the sidewalk towards where you parked your 2003 Honda Accord this morning. You are most of the way there when you see her approaching: long dark hair, wide-leg jeans, bridal white crop top, carrying a massive bakery box. Becca is beaming and humming to herself, but when she spots you she jolts to a halt.

B) bride white top- she wants you to know shes getting married lmao

C) Aw she was in a good mood 😂

70. “Always trying to break us up,” she seethes hatefully, defiantly. “Always trying to tear us apart. You think you matter enough to jeopardize what Aegon and I have? He comes home to me, always, and no one can change that. You think I don’t know loving a man like that means having to share him with the world? I know it. But you should know you’ll never get to keep him.”

D) SS is ruining Beccas dream of domesticity so will Becca ruin hers?

E) Does becca have access to Aegon's files and with him mixing things up, he might forget to lock the computer. Plus plus- he's using folders ( is that another sign of his decorating state cuz he can't remember his computer password)?

B) Does he not sleep with her? Does he not trust her after the baby thing?

A) She says that like just to Ss but she probably means all the girls Aegon has slept with

C) I wonder if Becca Will snap and tell Sunshine why she couldnt handle Aegon (his disease). I bet she knows what his dad dies of.

D) Imagine Becca killed Vis and is slowly killing Aegon for the money lmao idk I'm tired

A) Baela cussing her out, Aegon not being lovey, Becca tripping her over- I get you babe. You deserve a treat

71. “This day fucking sucks,” you mutter to nobody. Then you turn on your laptop and open Spotify in one tab. You recall seeing a lot of Alanis Morissette in Aegon’s playlist, and you find one of the few songs of hers you already know because it’s your mom’s favorite: You Learn.

B) I had to Google the song!

C) The song is about how the lows of life Still add to it, you learn and grow from the lessons

D) Like after this fic is done, she wouldn't change a thing cuz it's toughened her up but also allowed to love more openly (like maybe she stands up for herself and tells aegon to learn to let himself be happy and be with her before he goes)

E) It might help put more substance into her acting?

72. Wikipedia once told you that Viserys Targaryen passed away at his Malibu home after a long illness. Was it bad? It had to be, right? A disease that was torturously slow and horrific for the whole family. An experience that wounded Aegon somewhere deep and immutable.

A) Hmm was it an illness or did the family say that just to cover something up? And did aegon get caught in the crossfire?

73. Viserys Targaryen Alzheimer’s

74. You roll over and stare up at your bedroom ceiling, listening to Alanis Morissette’s serrated mezzo-soprano twang, and whatever is required to be taken seriously as an artist—to make people see you, to make people listen, to earn the privilege of not spending forty years impersonating someone who never feels the siren call of other lives—she has it.

A) Not alzheimers but maybe another thing related to it… like Dementia

B) Does something need to break in her to finally be sharp enough to cut and catch someone's attention?

A) SS isn't taken seriously cuz she's naive? Like she's a pushover in a way?

75. Maybe there’s no profound explanation for why Aegon is marrying Becca. Maybe he really is a fuckboy like Baela said.

C) And will it be cuz of aegon or something else?

B) But we all know that's not it

A) Yeah possibly

76. Maybe he just doesn’t like you enough.

C) He might not want anyone else to see him go like his dad? And he doesn't mind Becca cuz he doesn't care about her enough?

B) youre his favourite.

A) Lies. He does.

C) His precious sunshine.

A Curse [Chapter 5: Venice]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap situationship, In-N-Out Burger, accidental fake dating, discussions of pregnancy and abortion (not who you think), a wild Becca appears!

Word count: 6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

You sleep deep but wake up early. When Baela wanders out of the bathroom in a fuzzy purple robe and a gale of steam, she finds you dressed in your grey work uniform and sprinkling a packet of flower food you got from the Rite Aid down the street into the vase of sunflowers. You are smiling to yourself; you can’t seem to stop.

“Heyyyyy!” Baela says, slow and salacious, hoping for interesting stories. You very rarely have any to share. “How’d the Maroon 5 shoot go? Not so bad, right?”

“It was good.” You rearrange the sunflowers, pruning any leaves that have begun to wilt. Daylight streams in through the windows; outside you can see power lines, palm trees, a shopping center featuring—among other things—a Starbucks, World Star Vape, and Carl’s Jr.

“Did you meet Adam Levine?”

“Briefly and uneventfully. But he seemed nice!”

“And you survived the bathtub thing, I see.” Her tone implies that you were ridiculous to ever fear you wouldn’t, childish, ignorant, histrionic.

“Well…I actually didn’t have to do it.”

“What?” She reaches into the refrigerator and removes a plastic bowl full of raspberries, sets it down on the kitchen counter, eats absentmindedly as she stares at you. “Really? Why not?”

You shrug, a little shy but desperately wanting to tell somebody, because that will make it real. Blood burns in your face. “Aegon saved me.”

Baela’s eyes narrow and her brow crinkles. You find yourself—as you often do—casually in awe of the smoothness of her skin, the perfect arches of her eyebrows, her expressiveness that is never inelegant. She chews her raspberries very slowly. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, so…I didn’t have to film that scene. But I did the rest of them and it went fine.”

Baela’s gaze drops to your shoes and travels northbound, examining you with skepticism and dread, as if she is afraid to ask. “Did something else happen?”

You can feel yourself glowing, flushing, beaming helplessly. “Kind of.”

Her jaw drops open; there’s berry juice on her teeth like blood. “How? Where?!”

“We went back to his office after the shoot. I mean, he drove us back to his office. But I wanted to go too.”

“And you did…what, exactly? How many bases?”

“Um…all of them?”

“All of them?!”

“Twice.”

Baela looks horrified. “Oh my God, you really fucked a married guy.”

“No, remember, he’s not married. He’s just engaged.”

“It’s the same thing!” Baela exclaims, and she has completely forgotten about her raspberries. “You’re a cheater, how does that make you feel?”

You shake your head; she doesn’t understand. “I know it sounds bad, but when I’m with Aegon…he’s just so…he’s so protective and he’s smart and he’s brave and he actually believes in me, he’s the only person who doesn’t think I’m hopeless and delusional, and he’s always trying to help me, and there’s something about when we’re together that just feels…magical!”

“Of course it’s magical!” Baela bursts out, and now Jace is peeking blearily out of her bedroom, his dark curls in disarray. “He’s a fuckboy, that’s what they do! He gives you some otherworldly encapsulated experience that leaves you dickmatized but it’s not real, because then he goes home and he does the same thing with his soon-to-be-wife, and then the next day he’s probably hooking up with some other impressionable starstruck client, and you’re standing here thinking you have something special with him when he’s already onto the next girl!”

You can’t imagine that being true, and yet you wonder without wanting to: why did he have condoms in his desk drawer? “I don’t think he’s happy with Becca.”

Baela groans as if she’s in physical pain. “I knew this would happen! I knew somebody was going to take advantage of you. You’re too idealistic, you’re too naïve.”

“I started it,” you object feebly.

“You think you seduced him? You think you were calling the shots with a middle-aged man whose family is Hollywood royalty?”

You look down at your shoes, uninspired white Skechers for work, ashamed. “I guess not.”

Baela huffs a sardonic sigh and scarfs down the last of the raspberries, chewing them aggressively. “You know, people talk shit about Jace—”

“Who talks shit about Jace?” Jace asks from the doorway of her bedroom.

“—They say he’s a hobosexual and lazy and jobless and whatever, but that man is loyal, he doesn’t even look at other women, and I wouldn’t trade him for anybody. Because apparently it’s extremely fucking rare to find someone who won’t get naked for the first stranger who promises to make all their wildest dreams come true.”

You are collapsing in on yourself, a wilting flower, a crushed spider, and you remember years ago finding the emails between your father and that hospital intern, and you marvel at how easy it is to fixate on one star and lose sight of the constellation. Jace slinks back into Baela’s bedroom and closes the door. “Yeah, you’re right, Baela,” you say softly. “I was wrong. I don’t know why I did that.”

Now Baela frowns at you with a nauseating combination of judgment and pity. “Look, are you sure you wouldn’t be happier back home on the horse farm? This place…you’re too nice for it, you know? You’re too trusting. You’re going to keep getting hurt.” You don’t have what it takes.

You steel yourself. “I’m staying here.”

“Okay, and are you going to find a new agent? Maybe somebody who isn’t trying to sleep with you, or at the very least isn’t in a committed relationship while doing it?”

You are thunderstruck by the question; you haven’t even considered this. “No one else wants me.”

Baela tosses the empty plastic bowl into the kitchen sink—it rattles harshly there—and casts you a hard glare as she stalks towards her bedroom in her purple bathrobe. “I am so disappointed in you.”

You turn to watch her leave, crestfallen and deserted. “Are we still going to see the fireworks later when I get done at Cold Stone?”

Baela stops and turns around, and now her face is all pity, like you’re too pathetic to stay mad at, like you aren’t cognizant enough to be held responsible. “Yeah. We’re still going to see the fireworks.”

“Yay!” you reply, a strained little squeak.

“Jace can stay here when I’m in Paris, right?” Baela asks. “He swears he’ll vacuum and take the garbage out and stuff. And you know he won’t fill up the sink with dirty dishes, he basically only eats takeout.”

“Yeah, of course, no problem! He can stay.”

“Thanks.” Baela gives you a small smile—a charitable you’re a dumbass but we’re still friends sort of gesture—and disappears into her bedroom. Then you go find your phone and purse so you won’t be late for work.

All afternoon as you are bent low scraping scoops of ice cream out of the freezer and mashing in mix-ins on the chilled countertop, each time the glass door opens and the string of bells jangle you look up to see if it’s Aegon, because maybe he’s found you another job or maybe he just misses you, and he’s daydreaming of you now in the sweltering sunshine that rains down golden and cloudless. But your only customers are strangers: flocks of influencers in yoga pants who pick at Like It-sized sorbets, flustered mothers trying to relay their lisping children’s orders, giggling couples on dates who you love watching, the way their eyes are alight and their fingers forever ache to intertwine.

At dusk, you and Baela and Jace are lounging on a blanket at the Baldwin Hills Scenic Overlook, your breathing still labored from the hike and guzzling cans of La Croix that Baela packed, awful as always but not so bad when you feel like you’re dying of thirst. As you wait for the fireworks to start, you take a few selfies with the distant incandescent mirage of Downtown to the northeast, towards Chinatown and Elysian Park, towards Apple Valley, Minnesota if you drove far enough.

You post the most flattering selfie to your Instagram story with a caption of patriotic emojis: an American flag, the Statue of Liberty, a bald eagle, an exploding pink firework. In the row of circles at the top of your screen, you observe that Aegon—a.k.a. superstargaryen—has also posted a story today. In the two minutes you spend debating whether to watch it, he has seen yours, liked it, and replied: Miss America 2025.

“What are you grinning about?” Baela asks from where she is sitting in Jace’s lap, his arms around her waist, and you can’t tell her because you don’t want to make her mad again.

“Just something my sister sent me.” You click on Aegon’s story; he is standing beside a massive grill covered with hotdogs and hamburger patties, wielding a pair of tongs, and wearing his aviator sunglasses and a green apron with seemingly nothing underneath. You like it and reply: I have literally never wanted a hotdog so bad in my life.

Aegon reacts with a laughing emoji and types: Come and get it. But of course you can’t, because Becca is probably there too.

“You better post the picture we took together,” Baela tells you. “We looked cute as fuck!”

“What about me?” Jace asks playfully, nuzzling the side of her face. “Was I cute as fuck too?”

“You were okay,” Baela says, and they both laugh.

“It’s a really good photo,” you agree. And it proves that you have friends to do activities with, that you aren’t quite as pathetic and alone in Los Angeles as your parents and Clara and Tripp and Mason might think. You post it as a story: you and Baela smiling together, Jace in the background brandishing a peace sign. You add a bunch of red, white, and blue hearts for decoration. Aegon watches your new story within a few minutes, but he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even like it. You frown down at your screen, confused.

“Oh look, it’s starting, it’s starting!” Baela says excitedly, and now there are booming explosions in the darkening sky and threads of shimmering remnants descending like falling stars.

~~~~~~~~~~

You are early for your appointment because you want to see Aegon again, and you don’t even try to tell yourself it’s for any other reason. It’s Tuesday, July 8th, and there are still charred firework wrappers and singed sparklers strewn on the sidewalk. You find a parking spot a ways down the street from Aegon’s half-duplex and trot to the front door. You are wearing your tan TOMS wedges, a top the color of dark fertile earth, a green maxi skirt, and swampy verdant eyeshadow to match: matte brown Rewind and sparkly emerald Damaged, both by Urban Decay.

Behind the reception desk, Brandon is squinting at the computer screen and scrawling notes in his planner with his flower pen. “Hey girl!” he greets you, and although he is preoccupied he still gets a bottle of Perrier out of the minifridge and sets it on the edge of the desk.

“Thanks!” you say as you take it. “I’m really sorry about what happened last week with the address thing. I hope you weren’t too freaked out. I didn’t want to ruin your holiday.”

Brandon laughs and waves a hand dismissively. “It’s totally cool, I wasn’t worried at all. Aegon must be hella stressed lately because he’s always mixing things up and forgetting appointments, then he yells at me but feels bad about it afterwards and pays me overtime. Well worth it! I think it’s the wedding. Becca’s constantly showing up asking for his opinion about cakes and decorations and whatever and it’s just a lot.”

You smile politely; it takes some effort. “Yeah, weddings are nerve-racking. My sister Clara is planning hers right now.”

“Oh for cute! Are you going to be her maid of honor?”

“Actually, I don’t know. I hope not. Sounds like a ton of work.”

“You’d be marvelous at it,” Brandon assures you, then snatches up the phone when it rings. “Targaryen Talent Agency, this is Brandon, how can I help you?” You say goodbye and continue to Aegon’s office.

Inside, he is wearing the same green Nike Killshots he had on the day you first met and has them propped up on his desk as he plays his Nintendo 64. Mario is traversing a narrow stone pathway surrounded by a sea of blood-red lava. Aegon’s tank top is the color of the pine trees back in Minnesota; the unbuttoned short-sleeve Oxford shirt he’s thrown overtop is white and wrinkled. The room has been tidied up, all signs of your transgression erased: debris swept off the scratched wood floor, his desk once again littered with folders and papers and Juicy Fruit gum wrappers, new frames for the photographs, Honeycrisp apples filling up a bowl that is blue china instead of plain bone-colored ceramic.

“Hey,” Aegon says, glancing at you but still clicking buttons and swiveling the joystick on his transluscent orange controller.

“Hi!” You are grinning as you sit down in the chair in front of his desk. “Your office is back to normal.”

“Yeah, I have cleaning people that come in a few days a week.”

“Are you winning?” you ask, meaning the game. Mario veers off the precarious walkway and into the lava, screams and tries to leap to safety, sails over a stone island, hits the lava again and dies.

Aegon chuckles; he sounds tired. His bruised knuckles, five days gone, have sickened to a ghastly green and plumes of opaque violet. “I guess not.” He turns off the Nintendo 64. “How was your 4th of July?”

“It was awesome! I hung out with my roommate.”

Aegon gives you a disapproving look like he doesn’t quite believe you. You can’t fathom why. “I might have another job for you.”

“Really? Great!” But despite the good news, you’re beginning to feel like you’re sinking. You keep waiting for Aegon to acknowledge what happened here, what you both did, what you were to each other even if only for a few hours under the cover of darkness.

“There’s a casting call for a very minor part in a new Mavel movie. I’m sure that’s not exactly your dream role, and it’s not really what I see you doing either, but you said you’d take anything and it’s an opportunity to get you in front of some big-name people. So I booked you a spot.”

“I accept.” Is he going to pretend it never happened?

“I’m keeping an eye on the indie projects that make it to pre-production. I can imagine you shining in a niche little thriller, maybe a romantic drama…you do angry really well, you know. Which is strange, because you’re never angry in real life. But that’s what makes you an actress. You become other kinds of people.”

Does he think it was a mistake? Does he think it didn’t matter? “Okay,” you hear yourself say uncertainly.

Aegon studies you, his Nike Killshots still resting lazily on his desk. His blonde hair is slicked back from his face; his eyes are a remote somber blue like the ocean through an airplane window. “You alright, sunshine?”

“Yeah, I just…um…I mean…” You glance uneasily around the small plain office, scuffed wooden floorboards and cracked paint on mint green walls and glaring daylight that pours in through the windows that face the east. “What happened Thursday night…was that a one-time thing, or…?”

Slowly, Aegon smiles, and there’s something about his voice that strikes you as smug, maybe taunting, maybe even cruel. “It was that good for you, huh?”

You are suddenly reminded of every doubt, every warning, every belittling comment you thought you had convinced yourself not to absorb: from Mom, Dad, Clara, Tripp, Mason, Baela, Jace, agents and directors and surgeons. You thump your cold glass bottle of Perrier onto Aegon’s desk, clutch your purse, and bolt for the door. “Sorry, I have to go.”

Aegon is stunned. He scrambles to his feet. “What—?”

“Sorry, bye. Please don’t follow me.” You don’t want him to see you crying. You’re already humiliated enough.

You run awkwardly in your wedges through the lobby—Brandon watches you from behind his desk, baffled—and burst out into the hot late-morning sunlight. You almost tumble down the concrete steps but regain your balance, then flee towards your Honda. Window air conditioning units whir, dogs bark, car engines rev, a radio in an open garage is blaring Domino by Jessie J. Now your phone is ringing.

You yank it out of your purse and, through the tears that blur your vision, see that the name on the screen is Aegon’s. “Hello?” you answer stupidly, as if you don’t know who it is.

Aegon’s voice is equal parts defensive and resigned. “Do you want a new agent?”

“No,” you sob.

“Then come back here.”

“I just…I just feel like I really messed up, I mean I’ve never cheated on or with anybody and I can’t believe I did that, and now you’re pretending it never even happened, and it feels weird, it feels wrong, and I ruined everything, and maybe people were right when they said I couldn’t handle being out here—”

“Come back to my office,” Aegon says calmly. “And we will talk about it. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, and turn around.

You clop into the lobby and give Brandon an embarrassed wave. He nods, puzzled. Then you return to Aegon’s office and take your place in your chair, slumped, red-eyed, ashamed.

Aegon sits down too, places his elbows on his desk, laces his fingers together and presses them against his lips as he gazes at you, his large blue eyes glossy and pained. After a while, he says quietly: “This is exactly what I didn’t want. For you to be hurt, for you to be sad.”

So you won’t start crying again, you distract yourself by rotating the green glass bottle you left on Aegon’s desk, slippery with condensation. “I don’t even like Perrier.”

“Then why do you drink one every time you’re here?”

“I thought it would be the easiest thing for Brandon to get me.”

Aegon shakes his head; and for a long time he just watches you. Then an idea strikes him. “Do you want to go to the beach?”

~~~~~~~~~~

He takes the 110 south to the 10, then the 10 west towards the coast, then Venice Boulevard until you hit the canals. Aegon parks his Sebring in a tight spot on the street; he has to cut it half a dozen times to squeeze between a BMW X5 and a Volkswagen Tiguan. When he rests his bruised hand on the back of your seat so he can twist around and look behind him, you feel a disorienting sort of loss. Is he never going to touch me again? Then you both get out and walk towards the towering palm trees and beckoning open blue that peeks out from between hotels and surf shops, the genesis of the Pacific Ocean that continues uninterrupted for over five thousand miles to the shores of Japan.

On the way here, Aegon stopped at an In-N-Out Burger. You said you didn’t want anything when he asked—you have no appetite whatsoever—but at the drive-thru window he ordered two cheeseburger combos: Cherry Cokes, grilled onions on the burgers, Animal-Style fries. He paid in cash, because he is full of deceit, or at least that is what you told yourself. And so now you are carrying the Cherry Cokes, condensation sweating out of the cardboard cups as midday heat radiates up from the sidewalk and teenagers on bicycles and skateboards weave around you. You pop into one of the surf shops and Aegon waits outside, bemused, until you emerge with a blue can of Coppertone Sport tucked under your arm.

When Aegon finds a spot he likes on the beach and sits cross-legged in loose warm sand, you set down the Cherry Cokes—ice jingling in the dripping cups—and spray yourself with the Coppertone Sport until all of your exposed skin is glistening with SPF 50. Then you try to pass the can to Aegon.

“I’m good,” he says, opening the paper In-N-Out Burger bag to distribute the contents.

“Do you want to get skin cancer? Are you trying to look like Clint Eastwood when you’re forty?”

He gives you an irritated smirk but takes the sunscreen and halfheartedly mists himself with it. Then he flings the can aside and passes you your burger and fries when you sit down beside him. Aegon takes large, sloppy bites of his burger, grease dribbling down his fingers; you can only manage queasy nibbles at your own. In the waves, surfers are paddling far out and then riding swells back in, skittering to a stop in shallow water or being dragged under by the gleaming sapphire currents. California gulls squawk overhead and dive greedily when Aegon throws them some of his fries. To the north is a jetty of stones to mark the territorial boundary between the surfers and the swimmers; to the south is a long wooden pier for fishing. A group of people are playing volleyball nearby. From their boombox drifts a Red Hot Chili Peppers song; you feel like you’re being haunted by them.

“It’s the edge of the world and all of Western civilization,

The sun may rise in the East, at least it settled in a final location

It’s understood that Hollywood sells Californication…”

“It’s not your fault,” Aegon says. “I’m the one who’s engaged, I’m a decade older than you, I’m sort of your boss. It was my responsibility to put the brakes on, and I didn’t because…” He gestures helplessly. “Because I really like you. And I didn’t want to stop. But you’re not to blame for it and you shouldn’t feel guilty and you didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”

You stare out into the waves, glittering with sharp lacerations of sunlight. “So you wish you’d stopped it.”

Aegon sighs and slurps his Cherry Coke, ice clinking around in the cardboard cup, red and white and reminding you of those zodiac calendars at Chinese restaurants. “I guess. I don’t know.”

“You don’t feel guilty?”

“It wasn’t the first time. I’m sure it’ll happen again at some point. It doesn’t change what I have with Becca.”

You turn to him, revolted. “You just cheat constantly? That’s how you live?”

“Not constantly,” Aegon says, annoyed. “Not even that often. Maybe once or twice a year. I bump into someone at a party or a club, or on a film set, or on a plane…you know. Things happen. But it doesn’t go any further than that and it’s never serious.”

“Never serious,” you echo morosely.

“Never long-term,” Aegon amends.

“Marry me, girl, be my fairy to the world, be my very own constellation,

A teenage bride with a baby inside getting high on information,

And buy me a star on the boulevard, it’s Californication…”

Aegon taps the mostly-untouched burger in your hand. “Eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said you’d listen to me. I’m telling you to eat.”

His logic is sound. You make more of an effort, washing each bite down with Cherry Coke that you usually never drink, empty calories, fleeting forbidden sweetness.

Aegon is watching you closely, the creases around his eyes deep and thoughtful. “Could you tell me…like, specifically…what exactly you’re upset about?”

“I guess I thought it meant something.”

“I’m not pretending it didn’t. I just said I really like you.”

“But you’re still getting married in September.”

“You honestly believe I’d rip up the life I’ve have planned out for years for someone I met a month ago?”

“I don’t understand how you can have feelings for me and be marrying somebody else. That doesn’t make any sense. When I’m really into someone, I don’t want other people.”

“That’s adorable,” Aegon says, like you’re an idiot. After a moment he adds, rather combatively: “And if you’re such a one-dude kind of girl, who was that guy in your Instagram story?”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. “What guy?”

“The guy on the 4th of July. Young gym bro curly hair guy.”

It takes you a few seconds to realize who he means. “Jace?”

“That’s his name? Jace? That’s not even a real name. That’s like James or Jason, but make it the trailer park remix.”

“I think his parents have money,” you say absently, fascinated by Aegon’s reaction, trying to decide if you want to divulge that Jace is in no way available or romantically interested in you.

“That’s not the point.”

“He’s a friend.”

Aegon rolls his eyes and shoves a handful of Animal-Style fries into his mouth, sopping with melted yellow cheese and grilled onions and secret-recipe spread that tastes suspiciously like Thousand Island salad dressing. “Right.”

“Where are you going after you get married?”

“Becca’s family is in Houston.”

“What’s there for you?”

He laughs, a curt little cackle. “Segway tours, rodeos. The Space Center.”

“What about your family? What about Aemond and the others?”

“If they want to see me, they can catch a flight.”

“If you’re so hellbent on leaving Los Angeles, then what’s the point of this? Just ditch me now. Just give me to some other agent and we can both move on.”

“Sure,” Aegon says, like he is being deliberately stoic. “But I need more time to find someone I trust enough.”

“You can’t think of a single person who isn’t going to try to make me get naked or leap off a building?”

“No, I can, but I need someone who actually believes in you too. And you haven’t done much work out here yet. So it would be better if I had more to show them.”

“Can’t you just forge me another resume?”

Aegon looks at you, a challenge, a dare. “Do you really want to never see me again?”

The truth is humiliatingly simple. “No.”

“Then why are you arguing?”

You toss a few fries to the seagulls; they wrestle over them when they fall to the ground, kicking up golden sand and pecking murderously at each other. “Do you love Becca?”

Aegon scoffs. “Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“It’s a stupid question.”

“It’s an extremely relevant question.”

“Are you twelve years old?” Aegon says, then slurps forcefully on his Cherry Coke. “Life is more complicated than that.”

“More complicated than marrying people you’re actually in love with…?”

Aegon gazes blankly out over the Pacific Ocean for a while, the breeze in his hair and the Coppertone Sport shimmering on his face, and then at last he turns to you. “Okay, listen,” Aegon begins. “About a year ago, Becca got pregnant.”

You’re so startled you accidentally knock over your Cherry Coke, scrabbling for the cup as dark reddish liquid spills into the sand. “You have a baby?!”

He watches you, severe, grim, maybe a little afraid of what you’ll think. “No.”

Then you remember. “You don’t want kids,” you say softly.

“Right. And I didn’t then either. So I told her I’d have absolutely nothing to do with it if she kept the baby, and that my preference was for her to terminate. And that’s what she did.”

You are speechless, you are horrified, you are staring at him and struggling to imagine it.

“I’m not convinced it was unintentional,” Aegon is saying; you are only half-hearing him. Your skull is full of rumbling waves and the shrieks of seagulls. “Becca told me that she moved out here to be an actress and a model, but I never saw her really pursuing that. Once we met, she jumped right into being the perfect caretaker, and some people are like that. They need someone to need them. She was great at it, it was all she wanted to do, looking after me and the house and the Targaryen family Hollywood bullshit that I can’t stand. And eventually Becca started dropping hints about getting married, and I ignored them. I think…maybe she thought having a baby would speed up the timeline. But now she knows how serious I am about not having children. And I’m a lot more careful.”

“So…you’re marrying Becca…out of guilt?”

“No,” Aegon says, exasperated that you don’t understand. “I’m marrying her because I’m who she wants, and she would do anything for me. And being with me is a sacrifice, right? So the least I can do is give her the official title. It works for both of us. It’s good for both of us.”

You still can’t comprehend it. It seems so incongruous with who you know him to be: protective, warm, unconventionally noble. “You pressured Becca into getting an abortion?”

“It was her choice,” Aegon says weakly, knowing that he’d put an insurmountable weight on the scale.

“That’s a horrible thing to do.”

“I know,” Aegon snaps. “What do you want me to say? That I’m a fucking terrible person, that I’m a curse to everyone who cares about me? Sure, fine, okay, you got it. But to my knowledge I’m the only person in your corner, so let me help you for as long as I can.”

You shake your head; none of it makes sense. All of it is awful. They were right. I don’t belong here. “Why do you care about what happens to me?”

“Because you’re kind, and you’re gentle, and you’re real, and you want this for the right reasons, and I’m not going to let anybody beat that out of you.”

You swallow noisily. “I feel really guilty.”

“I’m sorry,” Aegon says, and he seems to mean it.

“I don’t think it’s fair to let Becca go through with the wedding without knowing that we just hooked up in your office.”

Aegon raises his eyebrows and shrugs uneasily. “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but Becca wouldn’t want to know.”

“Why? Do you have some kind of arrangement?” Like my parents do. “She doesn’t concern herself with your cheating as long as she doesn’t have to see the evidence?”

“I mean, has she ever used those exact words? No. But I think that’s pretty close to how she feels.”

You nibble on a fry. Your eyes are downcast, your words hushed. With one index finger, you draw stars in the sand. “That’s so sad.”

Aegon sighs, defeated. “Do you want to ride with me to the Marvel audition or do you want to drive yourself? It’s on Friday.”

“I don’t want you there at all.”

“Well, I’m going to be there. But I can try to stay out of your way.”

You’re sulking. “Why do you have to go?”

“In case something happens, obviously,” Aegon flares. “In case a director or an actor is a creep, in case they want you to do a dangerous stunt, it case they try to tell you to get surgery, in case they lie to you about the terms, in case a million other things go wrong. No one is going to listen to you, but because I’m a Targaryen they’ll listen to me.”

“You’re my hero,” you say sarcastically; it comes out more miserable than mean. You’ve never been good at cruelty. It’s not a language you speak.

“I’m the best you’ve got,” Aegon pitches back, and you sit with him in heavy silence under the sizzling afternoon sun for a long time, neither of you speaking, neither of you moving to leave.

An hour later, back in Elysian Park, Aegon parks his Sebring curbside and says Brandon will text you the address for the Marvel audition. You thank him briskly and impersonally. Aegon jogs up the concrete steps and into his half-duplex; you begin walking down the sidewalk towards where you parked your 2003 Honda Accord this morning. You are most of the way there when you see her approaching: long dark hair, wide-leg jeans, bridal white crop top, carrying a massive bakery box. Becca is beaming and humming to herself, but when she spots you she jolts to a halt.

“Hi, Becca!” you say very cheerfully, overcompensating.

“Hey,” she replies flatly, then goes to pass you, heading towards Aegon’s office.

“Wait, sorry, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Reluctantly, Becca stops and peers at you, agitated, guarded, unwelcoming. “What? I’m busy. I have wedding cake samples for Aegon to taste.”

“Oh neat, that’s so fun!”

She glares at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you start. “Um….well…I just wanted to…um…Becca, there’s something I feel like I need to confess to you, and I want to profusely apologize because even though it wasn’t planned, I still knew better and I should never have—”

“You people,” Becca hisses, and you gape at her, bewildered.

“Sorry, what?”

“Always trying to break us up,” she seethes hatefully, defiantly. “Always trying to tear us apart. You think you matter enough to jeopardize what Aegon and I have? He comes home to me, always, and no one can change that. You think I don’t know loving a man like that means having to share him with the world? I know it. But you should know you’ll never get to keep him.”

“No, Becca, that’s not—”

“And if he was going to leave me, he has better options than you.”

Her hands are full, but she lowers a shoulder and shoves you hard with it, and you go stumbling backwards, your feet twisting out of your wedges. Pain bolts up through your left ankle and you yelp as you collapse onto the front lawn of a small yellow house. When you look up at Becca, staggered and appalled, she is sashaying swiftly up the sidewalk and is already halfway to Aegon’s office. You grab your wedges and limp to your Honda on bare feet, the concrete beneath them searing under the arid southwest sun.

The apartment is empty, Baela getting drinks with her L.A. friends before jetting off to Paris next week, Jace at one of his infrequent PhD classes. You grab an ice pack from the freezer and shuffle clumsily to your room, flop down onto your bed, apply the ice pack to your throbbing, swollen ankle.

“This day fucking sucks,” you mutter to nobody. Then you turn on your laptop and open Spotify in one tab. You recall seeing a lot of Alanis Morissette in Aegon’s playlist, and you find one of the few songs of hers you already know because it’s your mom’s favorite: You Learn.

As you listen, mulling over Aegon and his mazelike contradictions, it occurs to you that maybe losing his father at such a young age did something to him, scarred him, traumatized him, made him terrified of letting people get too close. Perhaps that is a baseless assumption. Perhaps you are desperate to make excuses for him, to believe that there’s still hope for the two of you.

How old did Aegon say he was when his dad died? In college? That could mess someone up.

Wikipedia once told you that Viserys Targaryen passed away at his Malibu home after a long illness. Was it bad? It had to be, right? A disease that was torturously slow and horrific for the whole family. An experience that wounded Aegon somewhere deep and immutable.

You Google: Viserys Targaryen cancer. There are no relevant results. You try again.

Viserys Targaryen Alzheimer’s

Viserys Targaryen ALS

Viserys Targaryen multiple sclerosis

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

You roll over and stare up at your bedroom ceiling, listening to Alanis Morissette’s serrated mezzo-soprano twang, and whatever is required to be taken seriously as an artist—to make people see you, to make people listen, to earn the privilege of not spending forty years impersonating someone who never feels the siren call of other lives—she has it.

Maybe there’s no profound explanation for why Aegon is marrying Becca. Maybe he really is a fuckboy like Baela said.

Maybe he just doesn’t like you enough.

[suguwu]

here have just under 1k of a nanami draft i found in my docs bc apparently that's the vibe today

"you're being weird."

nanami raises an eyebrow. "i'm not," he says.

"you are," you say. "you're being weird about dumplings."

you'd picked them up on the way over, sending nanami a vague text to say that you'll be late. it's one of his favorite stalls, a humble little thing tucked away near a busy izakaya. it's a long wait, but you've never minded. you like to watch the vendor make shumai while waiting, marveling at the quick precision of her bent fingers. she works with an easy, fluid familiarity.

shoko teases you when you say the vendor's dumplings—shumai, gyoza, all of her offerings—are made with love, but you think that knowing something so well that it's etched in your fingertips couldn't be anything but.

it's always felt right to share them with nanami.

he picks one up and eats it. you stifle a smile. the stiff way he's holding his chopsticks and the way he's not looking at you speaks volumes. it's almost childish.

you think you love him most in these moments.

you point your chopsticks at him, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes at your rudeness. "see? you're being weird."

you probably should have known this was coming. you'd tipped the scale as soon as you'd arrived with the takeout containers.

"i'm eating dumplings," he says.

"weirdly."

"what does that even mean?"

you peer at him, scrunching up your brow to match his. he's unamused. or rather, he'd like to be, but you know better.

"i dunno," you say. "you just are."

he sighs. you think if you kissed him now, you could taste the smile he's swallowing down. "i don't know what i was expecting."

"me either. you really should know better."

he doesn't answer you, too busy stealing a dumpling out from beneath your chopsticks. you gape at him as he pops it into his mouth.

"kento!"

"yes, sweetheart?"

you grumble out a soft insult. he chuckles, a low, sweet rumbling, and you consider letting everything go. consider just basking in the warmth.

but he reaches for another dumpling, and you think of the way he'd looked when you brought them. how you could practically see him flipping through your favorite things like recipe cards, searching, searching, searching for what to do next.

"kento," you say.

"what?" he asks, starting to nudge a dumpling—your favorite kind—towards you. he raises a brow when you don't reply.

you take a deep breath.

"you know that you don't have to earn everything, right?" you ask carefully.

nanami goes still.

"excuse me?"

"you don't need to earn everything," you repeat. you shift in your seat, trying to ignore the way your heart is rabbiting in your chest, the way heat is spreading beneath your skin.

he puts his chopsticks down.

"what do you mean?"

"don't do that," you snap. "don't pretend you don't know what i'm talking about."

nanami's dark eyes sharpen. "you're being unfair," he says, blunt as always, and you hate that he's right. "i have an idea of it, but i want to make sure that i understand. i think i should be able to ask for clarity."

each word is calm. cool. you think of early winter, when the ice is thickening with each passing day.

your chopsticks are leaving imprints of their pattern on your palm. it almost hurts. nanami's gaze darts down to your hand; his lips thin.

"i don't—you don't need to earn everything," you say helplessly, scrambling for better words. "surprise dumplings can just be that. you don't need to do something in return. you don't need to reciprocate every time i do something for you."

you hadn't thought anything of it. not at first. you're not even sure when you noticed. but you had, and now you see it every single time. you've never given him a present—no matter how small—and not received one just a day or two later. it's sweet in its own way, but the longer it goes on, the more it sits like tar between your ribs, heavy and sticky and noxious.

"i enjoy gifting you things," he says. "you're aware of that. it's never been an issue before. what is it, exactly, that you need?"

"i need you to let me love you without feeling like you owe me for it."

his shoulders go tight. you've teased him before about the mountain ridge of them, how solid he is, how immovable, but there's something fragile to them now. a rockslide waiting to happen.

"fuck," you hiss, your stomach roiling. "i just��you're so bad at being taken care of. i want to do things for you. just because. i want to do things for you without you needing to do something in return, because sometimes it's like you don't think i love you enough to stay."

nanami takes in a sharp breath.

[not-magdi]

-a deal‘s a deal pt. 2 / ben shelton

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 850

Reading time: 3 min

Requested: no

MASTERLIST PART ONE

Ben could barely contain his excitement as he stood outside the restaurant, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He had been on plenty of dates before, but this one felt different. He had spent way too much time picking out his outfit, making sure he looked effortlessly put together—dark jeans, a fitted black button-up with the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off his forearms.

But none of it compared to the way his breath caught in his throat when Magdi finally arrived.

She stepped out of the car, wearing a simple yet elegant dress that fell just above her knees. It wasn’t overly fancy, but on her, it might as well have been a designer gown. Ben had always thought she looked good in her physio uniform, but this was something else entirely.

“You’re staring,” Y/N said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Ben shook himself out of his daze, grinning. “Can you blame me?”

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the slight blush creeping onto her cheeks.

He opened the door for her, leading her inside the cozy, dimly lit restaurant he had carefully chosen. It wasn’t too extravagant—just intimate enough to feel special but still casual enough that Y/N wouldn’t feel pressured.

They were seated at a corner table, away from the main bustle of the restaurant. As soon as they sat down, Ben leaned forward on his elbows, smirking. “So… on a scale of one to ten, how surprised are you that I actually pulled this off?”

Y/N huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “Honestly? I’d say about an eight. I really didn’t think you’d go through all that trouble to win a date with me.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, reaching for her menu. “I mean, you could have had anyone. You didn’t have to make a bet just to get a date.”

Ben frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Yeah, but I wanted you.” His voice was casual, but the sincerity in his eyes was impossible to miss. “And I knew if I just asked normally, you’d probably keep saying no.”

Y/N bit her lip, avoiding his gaze for a second. She wasn’t used to someone being this upfront with her—especially him.

“Besides,” Ben continued, nudging her foot under the table. “I like a challenge.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’ll learn to love it,” he teased.

They ordered their food, and as the evening went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They talked about everything and nothing—their careers, their favorite travel spots, random childhood stories. Ben made sure to throw in a few playful remarks, enjoying the way Y/N laughed more freely as the night went on.

At one point, she shook her head, smiling. “I’ll admit, this is a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”

Ben pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “You thought it wouldn’t be fun? Y/N, I’m hurt.”

She rolled her eyes. “I just meant… I wasn’t sure what to expect. But you’re actually kind of—”

Ben leaned in slightly, smirking. “Go on.”

Y/N huffed, looking away dramatically. “—kind of charming.”

Ben grinned. “Kind of? I’ll take it.”

By the time they finished their meal, the atmosphere between them had shifted. It was lighter, warmer—like something had clicked into place.

As they walked outside, the cool night air wrapped around them. Ben stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing at Y/N. “So… does this mean I get a second date?”

She pretended to think about it, making a humming noise. “Hmm… I don’t know. I did only agree to one.”

Ben scoffed. “Oh, come on. You had a good time, admit it.”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

Ben groaned dramatically, but he couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

They reached her car, and for the first time that night, a small silence settled between them. Not awkward—just charged.

Ben took a step closer, his voice softer now. “I had fun tonight.”

Y/N nodded. “Me too.”

For a second, he hesitated. He wanted to kiss her—badly—but he also didn’t want to push too far.

So instead, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger for just a second longer than necessary.

Y/N’s breath hitched, and when she looked up at him, there was something unreadable in her expression.

Ben smiled. “Guess I’ll just have to win another tournament for that second date.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Guess so.”

She got into her car, and Ben watched as she drove off, the small grin never leaving his face.

Yeah. He was definitely winning his next tournament.

———

Don‘t forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !🩷

[sofisturns]

remember everything

chris’ pov

au by me and @angeliolo

𓇼 chap.7- enough

the sky had turned a deep purple by the time we made it back home, the stars spilling out like scattered salt against the dark. the air was cooler now, the breeze soft as i watched it tug at y/n’s hair, and the sound of the waves was steady — a lullaby I hadn’t realized I needed.

i glanced at her as we walked, her sandals dangling from her fingers, the soft hum of her laughter still echoing in my head from earlier. the way she’d looked at me when I caught her —wide-eyed and breathless. I hadn’t been able to shake it. and that kiss.. i wasn’t about to shake that feeling either.

“you okay?” her voice was gentle, breaking me from my thoughts. she was watching me with that quiet curiosity she always had, and I felt that same warm pull toward her I’d been fighting since i met her.

“yeah,” I said, smiling softly. it was a simple answer, but i was true. i was okay. perfectly okay.

we reached the hammock strung up between two old palm trees — the one I’d set up when I needed to get away from everything at home. she eyed it, tilting her head. “you come out here a lot?”

“yeah,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “it’s… peaceful.”

she didn’t push, just nodded and climbed into the hammock, her movements careful and a little wobbly. “c’mon, show me how the pro does it.”

i laughed, slipping in next to her. it wasn’t exactly spacious, and we ended up pressed close — her head resting on my chest, the scent of sunscreen and salt in her hair. my arm found its way around her waist without thinking, and I felt her relax into me, her fingers brushing lightly against my hand.

we didn’t talk much after that. the rhythm of the ocean and the warmth of her next to me made it hard to do anything but just… breathe. and maybe for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could.

before I knew it, my eyelids got heavy, and the last thing I remembered was the steady rise and fall of her breathing, matching mine.

—

the first thing I noticed when I woke up was the warmth.

not the sun, not the breeze — her.

y/n was still tucked against me, her head resting lightly on my chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, i didn’t wake up feeling that familiar ache — that weight in my chest that never really seemed to leave. instead, there was this soft, steady rhythm — her breathing, her warmth, the scent of something I was starting to think was just her.

my arm was still wrapped around her waist, and i tightened it just a little, not ready to let this moment slip away yet. the waves crashed in the distance, and the world felt far away — quiet and peaceful in a way I hadn’t grown to know until now.

but of course, peace never seemed to last long.

“wow, Y/N, your parents really don’t care about you that much to let you sleep out here with some guy?”

the words hit like a cold splash of water.

y/n flinched against me, her body going rigid, and before I was even fully awake, I was already pissed. my eyes snapped open, locking onto the girl standing a few feet away with her arms crossed and that smug little smirk twisting her face.

I didn’t know her, but I knew the type — the ones who said shit just to see how deep they could cut.

y/n sat up quickly, her face flushed and her eyes wide. “it’s not—” she started, but her voice faltered, and I could see the way the words had hit her.

“hey,” I snapped, my voice low and sharp. “why don’t you mind your own business?”

the girl raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting me to push back. “relax, it was just a joke—”

“yeah? i didn’t laugh. maybe you should just fuck off.” my tone left no room for argument, and after a beat, she rolled her eyes and did exactly that.

the second she was gone, y/n sagged beside me, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt. “sorry,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“hey, no.” I shifted so I could face her, my hand brushing against her arm. “you don’t have anything to apologize or explain for.”

“i shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” she said, her eyes still fixed on the sand.

“well, I’m glad you did.” the words slipped out before I could stop them, but I didn’t regret them for once. “it’s the best sleep i’ve had in a long time.”

her eyes flicked up to meet mine, surprised. I didn’t say anything else — didn’t tell her how my house felt too quiet now, how the emptiness sat heavy on my chest most nights. how I hadn’t felt this kind of calm in a long while.

but I think she saw some of it anyway because her hand slid into mine, her fingers warm and steady. “me too,” she whispered.

and that? that was enough.

we sat there in silence for a while — the good kind of silence. the kind that didn’t feel heavy or awkward, but soft and easy. the sound of the waves filled the space between us, and every so often, the wind would catch her hair and brush it against my cheek, and I didn’t mind one bit.

eventually, she shifted, leaning her head back on my shoulder, and I tightened my arm around her waist again. i didn’t even think about it — it was instinct at this point, like she fit there.

“chris?” she asked after a long while, her voice soft. she hesitated, and when she finally spoke again, her voice was even quieter. “why do you… come out here a lot?”

i swallowed, knowing where the question was coming from. the hammock. the stillness of the house we’d left behind. the way I clung to this beach like it was the only thing keeping me from drifting away.

“it’s… easier out here.” i said finally.

her fingers brushed against mine again, and the simple touch felt like an anchor. “easier?” she asked gently.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I let my eyes drift out to the waves, watching the way they rolled in and out — constant and steady in a way life hadn’t felt in a long time.

“yeah,” I said at last. “home… hasn’t felt much like home lately.”

y/n didn’t press me for more, and I was grateful for that. she just shifted a little closer, resting her head against my shoulder again, and somehow, that simple gesture made it known she knew exactly what i’d meant.

“you ever think about leaving?” she asked after a while, her voice so quiet I almost wasn’t sure she’d said it.

“all the time,” I admitted. “but… I don’t know. there’s this part of me that feels like if I leave, i’m giving up on something I’m supposed to fix. like maybe if I just stay a little longer, things will go back to the way they were.”

she was quiet for a long moment. “do you think they will?”

i didn’t answer, because we both knew the truth.

the waves kept crashing, and the weight of everything I hadn’t said pressed against my chest — until her fingers squeezed mine, gentle and sure.

“i’m glad you stayed,” she whispered.

and just like that, the weight eased a little.

I tilted my head down to look at her, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. “me too,” I murmured.

the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting everything in shades of soft gold and deep blue. and even though the world outside this little moment felt too big and too broken, here — with her — it felt okay.

“chris?” she asked again, her voice drowsy now. her fingers tightened around mine just a little. “you’re… really warm.”

i smiled, “you’re not so cool yourself.”

she hummed softly in response, already half-asleep again. and as the wind rocked the hammock and the waves kept their steady rhythm, i let my eyes drift shut, too.

maybe the world wasn’t fixed. maybe I wasn’t either.

but for now, this was enough.

get me on da beach !!

⋆.˚taglist

@chrissweetheart @samwinchesterisawhore @chrissturniolossidebitch @chrepsi @espressqe @stvrniolotrxpl3ts @mothstvrnz @conspiracy-ash @sonnysturns @m00nl1tgh0st

[theamarischapter]

He’s Not My Boyfriend!

CHAPTER 05; friends (?)

new here? chapter 1 - previous: chapter 4

pairing: beomgyu x f!reader

w/c: 3.3k

genre: strangers to frenemies to lovers, high school au, slow burn…ish (?), fake dating (for a day) - FINALLY HERE!

warnings: none!

summary: a friendship blooms, but buried feelings crawl their way back to the surface. a harmless april fools prank turns out to be…not so harmless. your “indifference” is killing him.

fic below the cut! enjoy <3

You’ve discovered that Beomgyu is just as much of a nerd as Kai and Soobin. They play the same games and watch the same shows and gush over the same celebrities. You’ve gotten used to listening to him and Soobin argue over whatever game it is that they stay up until 2 AM playing. They’re always, undoubtedly, the loudest at your lunch table. Since the recent alliance, your friend groups have sorta merged. Which (of course) means that the teasing is annoying as ever, but at this point, it’s all white noise. Now, it’s Beomgyu who manages to be the biggest annoyance in your life—in an endearing way. You almost miss the time when he was the shy, quiet boy your friends shipped you with. Almost. 

Jumbled conversation echoes through the cafeteria, overlapping the clatter of trays. Students crowd together around small tables, gossiping and laughing, while others keep to themselves. You sit beside Beomgyu, who, as per usual, has made it his mission to annoy you. He keeps poking your side. Each time, you flinch a little, swatting his hand away. 

“Cut it out!” You yelp, suppressing small laughs. You find yourself amused despite the feigned annoyance. Beomgyu puts his hands up defensively, looking off to the side with a small smirk.

“What? I barely did anything,” he defends. His gaze returns to you, meeting your unimpressed expression. The corners of his lips pull into a guilty, upside-down smile. He always acts so innocent. 

“Beomgyu.” You retort, tone unamused. You shake your head, rolling your eyes. His arms fall back to his side, a laugh escaping his lips. His joy, even when at your expense, is contagious—you have to suppress a smile. 

“It’s funny, though…” He mumbles, looking away again. You raise an eyebrow at him, whipping your head from side to side as you look around the circular table—your friends are beside you, to the left, and his are next to him on the right. They’re all taking inconspicuous glances at you, not yet acknowledging the playful exchange happening. 

“Really? ‘cause I don’t see anyone laughing,” you retort, glancing around again as if to make a point. He narrows his eyes at you, head tilting to the side. 

“You were. Like five seconds ago,” he replies. His voice is flat, expression blank. You scoff, crossing your arms. That’s not fair, and he knows it. 

“That doesn’t count. I’m ticklish,” you reply, shrugging. He hums in thought, shaking his head and nudging you with his elbow. 

“You think it’s hilarious too,” he argues. “Just admit it.”

“Shut up,” you grumble. Sure, it’s a little funny, but not when he does it five million times! Besides, he only thinks it’s funny because of the way you react. For you, it’s just embarrassing—especially considering how his touch makes your heart flutter. 

“You didn’t deny it,” he teases, leaning a little closer. Your heart skips a beat, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling in your chest. You lean away, unable to make eye contact.

“You’re so annoying.” You mutter, shaking your head. You glance up, eyes meeting Chaewon’s. She has a small grin, eyes gleaming with amusement at your spectacle—and something else. Something that makes you shift nervously in your seat. “What?” You raise an eyebrow at her. She hums in delight, leaning her elbows on the table. 

“You two are so cute!” She gushes. Before you can even begin to think of a retort, the rest of your friends are ganging up on you. 

“You should just date already,” Yunjin teases, her dark eyes glistening with mischief. 

“They probably are—they’re just too embarrassed to admit it,” Kai adds on, nudging Soobin to join in. Soobin hums in thought, smiling evilly. He opens his phone, showing off a blurry picture—you and Beomgyu, side by side, smiling together in a crowded hallway. 

“I saw them walking together the other day,” Soobin explains, causing the table to erupt in gasps. Seriously, what era is this? You didn’t know being near a guy was so scandalous nowadays. Why does he even have that picture?

“You guys are so annoying. God forbid a girl and a guy be friends!” You retort, scoffing as you roll your eyes. You’re too preoccupied arguing to notice the odd expression on Beomgyu’s face. 

His hands are on the table, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. He shifts uncomfortably, his gaze fixated on everything but you. His throat feels tight, lungs small as he attempts to breathe. Why can’t he just be normal? His heart jumps every time someone mentions how cute you’d be together or how he’s basically your boyfriend. He doesn’t understand. He buried those feelings when he buried the old version of himself. That’s not him anymore. He doesn’t like you, he can’t like you. So, why does he feel this way now? It’s like a hurricane ripping through all of the flimsy defenses he’s held up thus far. He’s going insane, meanwhile, you sit there calmly denouncing even the idea of being with him. Which feels great, by the way.

“Beomgyu’s totally blushing,” Kai points out. Everyone’s gaze is suddenly on him, including yours. Yours. Oh god, what’s happening? He can’t breathe. His heart is suddenly beating out of his chest. This isn’t happening. Control yourself, Beomgyu. He scoffs, but it sounds more like a cough. 

“Am not,” he mutters, but the shake in his voice isn’t helping his case much. Soobin laughs, eyes wide with amusement as he gasps. 

“You’re totally in love.” He teases, which only causes Beomgyu’s face to get warmer. In love? Never. Never in a million years. You grimace, taking control of the situation before it gets out of hand.

“Ugh, you guys are so stupid,” you scoff. Luckily, the bell reverberates through the crowded space, ending the conversation with ease. You part ways, heading to class with your friends. Beomgyu can’t help but watch as you disappear into the crowd. 

Was the idea really so stupid? Was it so unbelievable that he might like you? Or maybe it’s the other way around. Of course, nothing has changed since middle school. You’re still way out of his league. It makes sense that the idea of anything more than friends is a joke to you. It’s a joke to him, too. Totally. It’s hilarious!

He just needs to get himself together. Those feelings are only coming back because he’s around you again. It’s just nostalgia. Just a bad habit that he never got to break. He doesn’t like you! It’s just…the idea of everything. The idea of having a girlfriend. That’s why he always gets so flustered when your friends tease. It’s not because of you, right? It can’t be—that would be breaking his promise to himself. 

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

Yeah, no. Something must be seriously wrong with him. How did his brain go from being completely normal to being a jumbled, confusing mess in seconds? He knows how, but he searches for a different answer nonetheless. He repeats to himself over and over that he likes Yeji, even if they haven’t talked in a while. He likes her, not you. Things are just getting mixed up. Any normal person would get flustered in this situation. Well, except for you. You never react. But that’s different! You’re just freakishly calm—underreacting, if you ask him. His reaction to the teasing is totally normal. So, no, he doesn’t like you. And, even if he did, he can’t allow the same thing to happen a second time. Not when he worked so hard to become your friend. 

Why did he do that, anyway? No, no, no—don’t even go there, Choi Beomgyu. It’s normal to want to be someone’s friend! He feels sick to his stomach.

The next time he sees you, he feels himself spiraling. Your eyelashes are long and pretty, fluttering every time you blink. Your silky hair frames your delicate features. His eyes linger on your plush lips a little too long, then the pretty pink hue of your smooth cheeks. This is unfair. He worked so hard to move on, to accept that he couldn’t have you. He accepted that it was all in the past. He didn't have a chance, and that was okay! 

Then again, that was before everything. Before he was someone in your life, before you started calling him Gyu in that sweet, familiar tone. Maybe he can indulge his feelings this time. He’s a better person now. You’re friends already. What's the harm? The feelings are going to eat away at him anyway. It’s better he just acknowledges the facts—he likes you, and no amount of denial will stop it. 

That said, your indifference might. You deny everything so casually. He’ll subtly lean closer or brush fingers with you, and you don’t react. In fact, you look at him like he’s crazy. It’s making him remember exactly why he wanted to avoid catching feelings again. You don’t like him. 

At least, in his perspective, you don’t. But he can’t read your mind. He doesn’t know that your heart jumps whenever he touches you. He doesn’t see the way you scramble to steel your expression whenever he gets a little too close. He’s too in his head to notice the way your voice trembles whenever you tell him to knock it off. It’s not that you don’t like him. He’s just conditioned himself to interpret everything you do as friendly, or as his stupid heart playing tricks on him. You’re blushing because you’re uncomfortable, not flustered. You’d never be flustered because of him.

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

The end of March is fast approaching, which also means April 1st is coming up—April Fool’s Day. Beomgyu has the perfect idea for a silly little prank. Something totally innocent and unrelated to the all-consuming feelings currently overwhelming his heart. He sighs, sprawled across his unmade bed sheets as he stares at your contact. His heart beats a little quicker at the notion of messaging you, but he manages to settle on a simple message. 

gyu 🧸: hi i have an idea

You respond quickly, almost too quickly. His heart jumps when he sees the three little dots flickering. 

you: what is it gyu 🧸: a prank for april fools you: omg yes

Well, that was easy. Then again, you’re probably only agreeing because you think it’s something typical. You know, stuff besides pretending to date your friend.

gyu 🧸: i didnt even tell u what the idea is yet you: okay so tell me 🙄 gyu 🧸: well since we get shipped i thought it’d be funny if we pretended to date

There’s no immediate response this time. His heart drops, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. A minute passes, then two, and then his hands are trembling over the keyboard as he panics to type out something to redeem himself. You must think he’s crazy and weird. Of course, that was dumb. It’s a dumb idea, and you wouldn’t—his phone buzzes.

you: omg wait that’s hilarious 😭 they’re gonna freak out 💀 im in gyu 🧸: okay

He blinks, shakily putting his phone down. You actually agreed. He rereads the message just to ensure that he read it right. You’re in. You think it’s hilarious. Maybe he wishes you didn’t find it funny, though. This is definitely a horrible idea. He’s asking to get hurt—but whatever! He gets to call you his for a day, even if it’s pretend. He gets to be close in the way he’s yearned to for years (technically). He feels knots forming in his stomach just thinking about it…

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

You’ve spent days preparing to successfully carry out this prank with Beomgyu. It’s no fun if it’s obvious you’re messing with them, so the build-up is important. You started resisting the teasing less, sitting a little closer, wearing matching bracelets—you even posted a faceless picture of him on your close friends. You’re seriously dedicated to this…Beomgyu might actually combust. He knows it’s pretend, but that doesn’t stop his poor heart from pounding wildly. When the day finally comes, he’s grateful that you think his flustered expression is just spectacular acting. 

How else was he supposed to react when you suddenly grabbed his hand? His fingers twitch in your grasp, and for a split second, he wonders if you can feel his pulse racing through his palm.

Chaewon is the first to see you two entering school hand-in-hand; usually, you meet her in the morning since you have first period together. She gasps loudly, hands flying over her lips as if she’s just witnessed the biggest plot twist of the year. It’s honestly endearing how happy she looks for you. Her eyes sparkle with excitement as she hurries over, practically skipping. She says your name in disbelief, eyes darting between you both, then down to your interlocked hands. 

“Is this what I think it is?” She squeals when you nod and pull Beomgyu a little closer without warning. Oh, he is not going to survive today. His heart does backflips, his eyes trained on you. You’re calm as ever—at least, on the surface

“Surprise.” You laugh, letting out a shaky breath. Your heart is beating unreasonably fast. You remind yourself that this is all a prank. He has Yeji—at least, he did last you checked. Then again, he’s here pretending to be your boyfriend. Sure, it technically means nothing, but it’s still a little odd. If they were really in any sort of relationship—be it a talking stage or more—would he be playing this game with you? The thought lingers, unsettling and unspoken.

“I knew it,” Chaewon says, smiling proudly. “All along. You two are so obvious.” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, rolling your eyes. Obvious? Well, of course, she’s only talking about the past week. You aren’t obvious about anything because you don’t actually like him. 

The rest of your friends react in a similar manner. Yunjin finds out through Chaewon and promptly blows up your phone in the middle of class. She catches you during passing period and is gushing, making way too much noise considering how early it is. Soobin and Kai see him walking you to third period and are immediately on your case. 

“Wait—isn’t it April Fools, though?” Soobin asks. He narrows his eyes, eyeing you suspiciously. 

"Yeah, so what?" Beomgyu shoots back, a little too quickly. A little too defensively.

“I don’t believe it,” Soobin replies, shrugging. 

“Well, no one’s begging you to. She’s my girlfriend,” he retorts. Your heart flutters at his declaration. It almost feels real for a second, like he’s really claiming you. You smile, clinging to his arm casually. 

“Couple goals,” Kai teases, laughing. Beomgyu smiles wider than he should, shaking his head. The warning bell urges you to hurry up, so you part ways with Soobin and Kai. As you enter the class, you catch his gaze lingering—like he’s waiting for something. You look away without a word, quietly taking your seat. 

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

Lunchtime comes around quickly, but today, your friends have decided to eat outside. The sun hangs high, fluffy clouds drifting through the sky. A slow breeze contrasts the warmth of the sun, rustling the trees. Ironically, it’s you and Beomgyu who are the first to show up at the table. He’s beside you, his shoulder brushing yours—he’s close. Too close, considering your friends aren’t here yet. There’s no reason to pretend. Your heart stutters when he quietly, mindlessly reaches an arm around you—for a moment, you think maybe one of your friends is approaching, but they’re not. His head turns toward you, eyes narrowed as if he’s searching for something in your expression. Why is he staring so hard? You clear your throat and return to scrolling on social media. This is fine. You have no problem being close to him, he’s your friend. He calls your name, the sound so gentle it makes your heart stop.

“Hm?” You look up, putting your phone down. You wonder if he can hear just how fast your heart is beating. You hate it. You wish he’d stop playing with your heart like this. 

He’s not quite sure what he’s thinking, honestly. Maybe he spent too much time in class fantasizing about being your real boyfriend—feeling your soft lips against his, getting to hold you whenever. You’ve done a good job being his fake girlfriend. Perhaps that’s why he forgets about everything. He forgets that you don’t like him, that you’re out of his league. 

You’re still close, and there’s a glimmer of something in your eyes as they connect with his. It’s electric, sparking something new within him. Within you, too. Your body moves on its own, leaning into his touch. He figures it’s okay. A pretend kiss for his pretend girlfriend—just this once. His fingers flex at his side, his shaky breaths brushing across your face. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he’ll regret it, but you’re looking at him like that, with wide, glimmering eyes and already parted lips. Suddenly, it’s impossible to stop himself. His eyelashes flutter as he glances down at your inviting lips, the scent of your sweet perfume drifting in the breeze. Time seems to stretch, each second feeling like hours. Your fingers twitch at your sides, itching to pull him a little closer. He almost feels like he’s dreaming. 

And then, you’re pulling away. You gently tug out of his embrace, but the hesitation is there—a weird look in your eyes. Hurt, maybe. His warmth lingers on your skin. Your lips part like you might say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, you laugh. To him, it sounds uncomfortable, but you know just how pained it sounds. You almost let that happen. You almost forgot what day it was. April Fool’s. 

“Gyu, that’s not funny.” You mumble, averting your gaze. You almost lost control. You almost let your heart slip out of your careful grasp. Shame burns in his throat, his chest tightening as humiliation washes over him. He wants to disappear. He knew none of this would end well, but he went through with it anyway. And now it’s too late to take things back—if only he would’ve just taken a second longer to actually think. It’s almost painful how much you obviously don’t like him. You think he’s a joke. 

It’s obvious—but only when ignoring a few key details. Namely, the fact that you did lean in, for just a moment, before realizing what was happening. Of course, it must’ve been some weird prank he was trying to pull on you, and you almost fell for it. You refuse to be humiliated today. You don’t need—or want—to hear him laugh in your face and remind you that it’s pretend. More importantly, you don’t need anything to fuel the feelings brewing in your chest. You know just how bad one kiss could ruin things. It’d be impossible to stay in denial any longer. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, looking away. You’ve given him an easy out, even if the words sound stiff on his tongue. “I just wanted to see what you’d do.” 

You manage a laugh, gently smacking his shoulder. He hates how you can just play it off, how you can act so normal as if it was all nothing. He thinks, maybe, it was—to you, at least. He’s a complete moron—he’s probably just ruined the rest of the entire day. “You’re so annoying,” you whine, masking the ache in your heart with a smile. 

He rolls his eyes, laughing as well. Though his laugh is a lot softer, tinged with melancholy as he looks away. Would it be stupid to cry over something so trivial? Probably. He’s not going to, anyway. Not in front of you, at least. 

Maybe it’s about time to stop the prank. 

taglist: @whatblop, @innies-goth-gf, @woncheecks, @ewsnup <3

a/n: yayyy! these two can never just be chill i guess. like...they always gotta have something going on. anyways, i hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! only 2 - 3 chapters left omg. as always, ty for ur support and patience! likes, comments, and reblogs greatly appreciated! (≧∇≦)ﾉ <3

— °˖✧✿✧˖° —

upcoming: chapter 6 - things manage to get worse when you run into...choi yeonjun. beomgyu decides that he needs a bit of space to sort his feelings out. he just needs time.

[rylem33]

Please Enjoy Responsibly

SABRINA

Damien guides me into the suite, his hand warm against my lower back. The Grand Fontaine is even more extravagant than I expected with plush velvet furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

“Damn,” Damien exhales, dropping our overnight bag near the minibar. “They really know how to do luxury.”

I hum in agreement, my fingers drifting over the satin bedding before moving toward the sleek marble vanity. The soft lighting is perfect, making everything look expensive.

I spot a crisp black placard, neatly placed beside a bottle of chilled champagne. The gold lettering catches the light as I pick it up.

“All indulgences have a price. Please enjoy responsibly.”

I smirk, holding it up. “Think this is their way of warning us not to trash the place?”

Damien chuckles, already loosening his tie. “More like a reminder that we’re paying out the ass for everything in here. But if I’m gonna splurge, it’s tonight.”

He gestures toward the small round table near the window, where the champagne sits waiting in its ice bucket. Two delicate flutes rest beside it, perfectly arranged.

I grab the chilled bottle, expertly peeling back the foil. “It is free, right?”

Damien gestures toward the placard. “Nope. Probably costs as much as a car payment, but who cares?”

I grin, my fingers wrapping around the cork. “That’s my big spender.”

With a satisfying pop, I uncork the bottle and pour myself a glass. The liquid is pale gold, bubbles rising in an elegant, never-ending stream.

Damien never liked champagne so he fills a cup of what I’m sure is equally expensive wine. He lifts his glass. “To us.”

“To us,” I echo, bringing the glass to my lips.

The first sip is light, crisp, with a faint floral undertone.

The second is better. Warmer. Richer.

I sigh, tilting my head back slightly, letting the bubbles linger on my tongue. A strange warmth spreads through me.

“Damn,” I murmur. “That’s really good.”

Damien takes a sip of his wine, nodding approvingly. “Yeah? Better than the cheap stuff we had at our wedding?”

I laugh, swirling the champagne in my glass. “You had to go there.”

“Hey, I loved our wedding.” He grins, stepping closer, brushing his free hand over my hip. “And I love you.”

I smile back, soft and genuine. Then I take another sip. I roll my shoulders, smoothing my hands over my sides. I let out a slow breath. “God, I needed that.”

A warm tingle runs down my spine, and I shiver. But it’s not from the cold. I set my glass down and move toward the mirror, tilting my head slightly as I study my reflection.

My fingers trail along my collarbone, almost absentmindedly. Then down my arms, smoothing over my own skin. I’m savoring the sensation. God, I feel good.

Damien went all out for this night. The hotel, the champagne, the little details. I can see the effort. And I love him for it.

I want to give him something just as special in return so I exhale, slow and deliberate, turning my gaze back to him.

Then I smirk.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” I murmur, my voice silkier than before. “What kind of girl do you really want tonight?”

DAMIEN

I recognize that look in her eyes, the playful glint, the teasing smirk.

Sabrina doesn’t let go often. She’s usually tightly wound.  But sometimes, on special occasions she will. It was rare, but God, when she leaned into it, it was hot as hell.

I grin, deciding to play along. “Oh, I don’t know,” I say, leaning back against the minibar. “Maybe someone sexy. Flirtatious. Needy.”

Sabrina raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

I step closer, my voice dropping lower. “Someone who wants me. Who can’t get enough of me. Who’s so desperate to please me, she’d do anything.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, pressing a finger to her lips in mock thought. “That does sound like a fun girl.”

She giggles softly, swaying on her feet before brushing her hands over her hips. 

“Would a girl like that…” She bites her lip, stepping closer, running her fingers over my chest. “Maybe need something in return?”

I exhale sharply, my hands already itching to grab her. “And what would that be?”

She hums, dragging a nail down my shirt buttons. “I don’t know… compensation?”

It’s playful. A joke. But the way she says it makes my pulse pound. It’s her tone, or maybe the way she flutters her lashes at me.

I chuckle, sliding a hand around her waist. “You charging me now, baby?”

She lets out a breathy little laugh. “Mmm… maybe just a little.”

She’s being a bit over-the-top, but I Iove the fantasy of it. The longer we play, the more confident she gets.

Her hands roam my body more boldly. She leans into me more naturally.

And when I run my fingers down her back, she shudders like someone who really needs me.

She looks up at me, biting her lip. “So, sweetheart… what do you want to buy?”

Fuck.

That was good.

I smirk, deciding to push it further. “That depends,” I murmur, tilting her chin up. “What’s on the menu?”

SABRINA

I let out a soft, breathy laugh, twirling a strand of hair around my finger as I sway my hips just a little.

I love when Damien plays with me like this. I want to give him this. I want to make this night perfect.

I take another sip of champagne, licking a stray drop from my lips. Then I tilt my head, my voice dripping with playful curiosity. “Mmm… what’s on the menu?” I echo, letting the words roll off my tongue.

I press a finger to my lips, pretending to think. “Well,” I murmur, shifting my weight onto one hip, running a slow hand down my side, “I suppose that depends on what you’re in the mood for, sweetheart.”

Damien’s jaw clenches just slightly, and God, that reaction is hot.

I step closer, my fingers trailing down the buttons of his shirt. “Are you looking for something quick? Something dirty?” I breathe. “Or maybe…” I let the pause hang between us, my lips curling as I watch his expression, “you want the full experience?”

His grip tightens on my waist, and I can feel the heat rolling off him. “What’s the difference?” he asks, voice rough.

I giggle, swirling the champagne in my glass. This is fun and I’m feeling confident. I’m going to really sell this.

I press my body against his, my lips brushing against his ear. “A little something…” I whisper, letting my fingers skim lower, lower, “would be one thousand.”

I pull back just enough to see the lust in his eyes. He likes this.

So I keep going.

“But,” I purr, dragging a nail down his chest, “for ten thousand? You get all of me.”

The words slip out smooth and effortless. Like it was a real offer.

Damien lets out a slow exhale, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “Damn,” he mutters, half-laughing. “You really are expensive.”

I giggle again, brushing my lips along his jaw. “Quality always is.”

I take another sip of champagne, and warmth blooms in my chest. My limbs feel lighter, my body looser. This champagne is really hitting me.

And Damien? He’s eating it up. I like that.

No, I love that. I love the power I’m feeling. Usually Damien takes the lead but right now I have the ability to make him react with every word. 

I’m loving being in control.

DAMIEN

She’s pushing every button I have, and fuck, she knows it.

The way she moves, the way she sells it. It’s like she’s done this a hundred times before. I can’t stop watching her, can’t stop wanting her.

I smirk, sliding a hand down her back, gripping her ass. “Fine,” I murmur. “I’ll take the full experience.”

Sabrina’s smile is slow, satisfied. “A very good choice,” she purrs.

It almost catches me off guard how fast she goes from playful teasing to action. One moment, she’s smirking up at me, trailing her fingers down my chest, and the next, she’s on me.

Her lips are everywhere.  She’s kissing, biting, sucking at my skin like she’s starving for it. She moves fast, pushing me back onto the bed, climbing on top of me, her hands roaming like she already knows exactly how to please me.

It’s… intense.

Her body grinds against mine, her moans soft, breathy, but… practiced. Like she’s following some routine.

I don’t care. She’s so good at this.

And yet… something nags at me.

Her eyes don’t match the rest of her. Everything about her is hot, hungry, needy, but her gaze is… distant. Not cold, exactly, but disconnected.

I push the thought aside, reaching down to cup her cheek, tilting her face up to mine. “You having a good time, baby?”

She pauses just for a second. Barely a heartbeat.

“Of course, sweetheart,” she purrs. Her voice drips with honey, smooth and effortless. “I love making you feel good.”

She presses a soft kiss to my lips, then trails lower, whispering against my skin. “And you are making me feel so, so good.”

I smirk, satisfied. That’s my girl.

She giggles softly, sliding her hands down my body, taking me back under her control.

SABRINA

I move slow and teasing, the way I know he wants me to. Making him need me more.

My hands roam his body, my nails dragging lightly over his chest, my lips following the path of my fingers. I grind against him, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body reacts to mine.

Every sound I make is soft, breathy. I flick my tongue against his chest and roll my hips, feeling him inside me. His hands grip my thighs, his breaths come faster, his body tightening beneath me. I can feel how much he needs me, how completely lost he is in this moment.

I love the way I can make him feel. I love the power I have over Damien. That thought lingers for a moment.

But as I grind against him, as I watch his jaw go slack with pleasure, my mind wanders. 

I start thinking about what it would be like to do this with someone else. Not because I want to cheat, but because…

Why stop with just him?

A thrill courses through me. A real thrill.

I’m here, fucking this man. Grinding on top of him and I can’t help but get a thrill from the idea of more. Of new men, new clients, each one paying for the privilege of having me for a night like this.

I could make a fortune doing this. The thought came and I couldn’t let it go.  

The way he’s reacting to me, I could do this with other men… to other men. I could make them desire me, my touch, my body. I could turn it into power. Into money.

God, that’s such a hot thought. I cum immediately. Screaming it ecstasy. Damien thinks it’s him.  I let him. It’s good that he feels like he’s doing a good job.  

Damien groans beneath me, gripping my hips tighter. I can feel that he’s about to cum, but I don’t really care.  I just need him to get it over with so I can collect my money.

Ten thousand dollars for a night with me. 

I almost laugh, but catch myself. That wouldn’t be good for his ego and I’ll want him as a repeat customer. 

God, I’m good.

I let out a needy little whimper, just the way I know men like. I grip his wrists and press them into the sheets, taking full control, riding him in the perfect rhythm.

His moans grow louder as his body tenses in orgasm. He looks at me and I give him a sly smile.  Poor sucker.  He loves me, I can see it in his eyes. 

I fake another orgasm, just to close out the moment. It’s easy. A little breathy moan, a sharp gasp, my body tensing just right.

I watch as the tension drains from his body, his grip on my hips loosening, his breathing slowing. He’s coming down, basking in the afterglow, completely spent.

He looks up at me with lazy satisfaction, a soft grin tugging at his lips.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion.

I force a warm, sultry smile, leaning down to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips.

“Mmm,” I purr, my tone smooth and practiced. “It was great, baby.”

I roll off him, stretching my limbs lazily before slipping out of bed. Damien hums in contentment, already drifting.

I grab my champagne flute, lifting it to my lips as I watch him. And just like that, he’s out.

Typical. Men always crash after they get what they want.

I sip the last of the champagne, savoring the warmth that spreads through me. Then I set the glass down, standing and making my way to the bathroom. I really need a shower. I need to wash him off of me.

I step into the steamy heat, letting the water cascade over my skin, washing away the remnants of the night. My fingers trail down my stomach, my body still humming.

DAMIEN

I wake to the rustling of fabric.

My body is heavy, spent, my mind still hazy from sleep. The lingering scent of sex clings to the sheets, the warmth of the night still wrapped around me.

I blink the sleep from my eyes, pushing up onto my elbows. Sabrina is fully dressed and by the vanity, adjusting her earrings.

A form-fitting white dress clings to her curves, accentuating every inch of her body. Her heels are sleek, elegant. Her dark hair cascades down her back in silky waves, her makeup flawless, sultry, refined.

I sit up. “Where are you going?”

She turns, giving me a slow, amused smile.

“Home,” she says simply, reaching for her clutch.

I frown. “Home? Baby, we have this room for another night. It’s our anniversary, remember?”

She chuckles, the sound low and light, like I just said something ridiculous. I watch as she checks her reflection one last time, completely unbothered by my confusion.

“You only paid for one night,” she declared. “I’ve transferred the funds already.  I know you don’t have enough for another night.”

“Alright,” I sigh, rubbing a hand down my face. “Game’s over, okay? You win. You were amazing, seriously. Best roleplay we’ve ever done.” I chuckle, trying to ease the tension creeping up my spine. “But you don’t have to stay in character anymore.”

She turns to face me fully, her smirk playful, teasing.

“Sweetheart,” she says smoothly, crossing the room toward me. She leans down, her perfectly manicured fingers tracing over my jawline. 

“I’m not playing…” Her lips brush against my ear. “…unless you’re paying.”

I let out a strained laugh, shaking my head. “Alright. Very funny. Just come back to bed.”

She straightens, grabbing her clutch. “I am funny, aren’t I?” she hums. “But I already told you. You can’t afford me.”

This isn’t funny anymore.

“Stop it,” I snap, throwing the card onto the bed. “This isn’t a joke, Sabrina.”

She tilts her head, brow arching slightly.

“You’re right,” she says smoothly, stepping toward the door. “It’s business.”

I scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over myself as I grab her wrist. “Baby, don’t go. Just… just come back to bed. We’ll talk. We’ll…”

Her gaze drops to where I’m holding her.

“Let me go,” she says coldly.

My hand drops away and she quickly exits the room.

I stand there, staring at the door, my breath shallow. My entire body is tense, like I’m trapped in some kind of nightmare I can’t wake up from.

I turn in a daze, my eyes landing on the bottle of champagne still sitting on the nightstand.

The label catches the light, gold lettering gleaming back at me.

5LUT WINES: Limited Edition – Escort Champagne

I finally understand. I’d heard the stories and I knew Sabrina was changed.

I didn’t just lose my wife tonight. I paid to have her taken from me.

And there’s nothing I can do to get her back.

[izvmimi]

okay unfortunately i have been emboldened to Keep Talking and so!

more details about our lumini:

our oopsies baby, kaze, is a sweet little boy, very much like kid luffy actually, always curious, kind of a crybaby and a lot of his mannerisms as a child are very girly because he's born on amazon lily and all of his caretakers were mostly women

(they loved dressing him in frilly clothes and playing with his curls which luffy was very :/ about initially but doesn't say a word further whenever kaze looks at him with a big bright smile and hands him a bug he found on the island)

he has my nose and eyebrows and a slightly looser version of my curls but is luffy in practically everything else

he's very polite and calls everyone auntie but the thing is he doesn't really know the difference between men and women so it's truly just 'auntie', 'mommy' and 'daddy' in his vocabulary until he meets the straw hats around age 3 (before that he sees them but doesn't remember them that well because luffy tends to visit alone; brook and franky particularly love to talk about having held him as a baby and kaze is like ???)

anyway he calls zoro 'auntie' once and sanji nearly passes out laughing

luffy does get to be the first person other than me to hold him when he's born, although he's several hours late. the entire time marguerite and sweet pea and boa insist that i need some rest and i can put him down but i want luffy to be first

the third person to hold him is boa. he calls boa 'princess auntie' and boa is just as soft on kaze as she is on luffy. the only problem is this is that now he's like 'i'll tell princess auntie' if he doesn't get things that he wants and that has to be fixed early on

i don't want him anywhere near a devil fruit while luffy is relatively ambivalent about it

his favorite color is blue

he doesn't understand fighting, much to luffy's confusion, but luffy also will not press him on it at all because he's allowed to live his life how he wants

he likes to read and paint and really likes when robin or i read to him. he likes stories about animals and fairy tales and adventures at sea

nami dotes on him too much and buys him too many nice toys similar to boa and so does sanji feeding that poor child like a pot bellied pig

kaze really likes sweets in particular like chopper and that's how they bond, but he also thinks chopper is a raccoon and chopper has given up correcting him

he likes to poke franky in random places every time and franky always makes robot noises in response

usopp teaches him how to use a slingshot but then he almost took zoro's other eye out while he was sleeping and that's now done forever.

he ran away upon first meeting brook and brook cried... or he would if he had tear ducts yohoho!

he really insists on jinbe holding him a lot and so jinbe will often walk around with this little five year old clinging to his arm

[morgana-larkin]

Here is the next chapter of Just Tired! We get more insight to Melissa's feelings and both Y/n and Melissa's thoughts after the threesome. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Just Tired - Part 19

Warnings: Manipulative Relationship (Mentioned), Reference to smut

Words: 3.6k

Barb hears Melissa come in as she’s making dinner but then Gerald comes in a couple minutes later.

“You should go out there, she walked in crying.” Gerald tells her. “I can finish making dinner.” He adds and Barb quickly goes to the living room. She sees Melissa about to go upstairs but she stops her.

“Melissa?” She calls out and Melissa turns around and Barb sees the tear stained cheeks. “Oh Melissa, dear, what’s wrong?” Barb asks her as she goes up to her. 

“Nothing.” Melissa sobs out and Barb immediately hugs her. 

“What happened?” Barb asks her softly.

“I was spending time with Y/n, and I realised that I’ve fallen for her.” Melissa says between sniffles.

“Isn’t that a good thing? It means your heart has moved on.” Barb asks her.

“I’m trying to fix myself first though. I was manipulated for 25 years and I’m scared of being in a relationship right now, I’m scared of repeating that situation. I’m scared, really scared.” Melissa says and Barb gives her another hug to which Melissa hugs her back. 

“You don’t have to do anything but I’ve seen how Y/n cares for you. She’s done nothing but try to make you happy and give you the experiences you’ve said you want.” Barb tells her.

“Ya, I know, she’s great, but I’m just too scared right now.” 

“Like I said, you’re not being forced to do anything. But you do need support as you’re going to court to file your divorce soon.” Barb says to her and Melissa nods. “So how about you tell Y/n that you have a court date next week and ask if she can come to support you?” Barb tells her gently.

“Ok, I’ll ask her.” Melissa says.

“Ok perfect, how about you take a quick breather and dinner will be ready in 10 minutes.” Barb says and Melissa nods before going upstairs. 

“Didn’t you use to calm Taylor like that?” Gerald asks her and Barb nods proudly.

“And it worked.” Barb says before going back to cook dinner.

Melissa lays down in her bed and all her thoughts are of you. She wants to spend less time with you now as you two spend more time together than she does with Barb, and she lives with Barb. But, she also wants to keep spending the same amount of time with you as you make her happy. She’s really conflicted with her feelings right now and remembered that Barb said she doesn’t have to do anything right now, especially with her court date coming up. She decided to put you on the back burner for now and just focus on her divorce. 

“Melissa? Dinner is ready.” Barb says and Melissa looks at her phone, 10 minutes has already gone by?

“Ok, I’ll be right there.” Melissa calls out and hears Barb’s retreating footsteps. Melissa sluggishly gets up and decides to get out of her Doc’s and put some slippers on instead before going downstairs. Barb sees her coming down and sees that she put slippers on and only does that when she’s upset.

The next morning you enter the break room and see Melissa there but she’s cradled her head in her arms and laying down on the table.

“Did you not get a lot of sleep last night?” You ask her and she mutters something but you didn’t hear what she said. “What was that?” You ask softly and crouch down and you see her open her eyes.

“I said, what’s it to you?” She repeats and you tilt your head.

“Well I do care about you.” You tell her and she takes a deep breath.

“I know, I’m just tired.” She says softly and you nod before you go sit with Jacob and Janine.  

For the rest of the day you see that she seems to be using all her energy to teach her students and not show that anything is wrong. At the end of the day you see her bolt out of there and you furrow your eyebrows as she usually takes her time or wants to talk to you. You happen to see Barb in the parking lot and you walk up to her.

“Hey Barb.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Hey dear.” She tells you.

“Is something going on with Melissa? She seemed off today and then she bolted out of here.” You ask her.

“It’s not really my place to tell why she’s off but for the bolting out of here, she has a meeting with her divorce lawyer right now.” She tells you and you nod.

“I see.” You say. “So does that mean that she has her court date?”

“She does but it’s up to her whether to tell you the date or not.” She tells you before Gerald shows up and she opens the door before turning to you. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, you have no idea how much you’re helping her.” She says before she gets in the car and it drives off. 

Melissa gets home after her meeting and goes straight to her room. She flops down on the bed and cuddles with her body pillow before she falls asleep. She’s exhausted as her thoughts of everything and the stress was keeping her up until 2am and she got 4 hours of restless sleep. She woke up a couple hours later and she goes downstairs to get something to eat. 

“Your plate is in the microwave.” Barb tells her as she hears her coming downstairs.

“Thanks, I have a major headache right now, probably from not eating.” She says and then goes to reheats her food. 

“Oh by the way, you should probably know that Y/n is worried about you.” Barb says as she enters the kitchen.

“Why?” 

“She noticed you seemed off today, and I don’t think it’s because of how tired you were.” Barb tells her.

“That girl can read me so well.” She mutters and puts her head in her hands. 

“The only thing I told her was you have a meeting with your lawyer. She knows you have a court date coming up and she might ask you about it.” She tells Melissa and she groans. “Also maybe have a bath after, might relax your muscles.” She adds before she goes back into the living room. The microwave goes off and she opens it and gets the plate before she sighs. 

“I don’t need to relax, I just want some fun.” She mutters to herself and she gets her phone out before going into one of the apps. 

One guy told her they don’t need to go out if she’s just looking for sex and she’s going to take him up on his offer. She messages the guy and asks if he’s free on Sunday night. She then goes to eat and gets a notification a few minutes later. She opens up the app and sees that the guy said he’s free if she wants to come over. She messaged him back saying she’ll be there and she smiles.

“I still got it.” She says to herself and eats her food. “Barb, just to let you know that I’m meeting a guy on Sunday night.” Melissa tells her after she’s done eating.

“I thought you were only going on dates with women right now.” Barb says.

“Well, it’s not really a date, more like stress relief.” Melissa tells her and Barb’s eyes widen slightly.

“Girl, no need to tell me more.” Barb says and Melissa chuckles before she goes back upstairs.

Melissa does end up having a bath. She lets the tub fill up as she gets undressed and she already feels some of the weight of the week just fall off of her. She turns off the water when there’s enough and she steps in and just melts into the tub, letting the stress leave her body. 

Thursday seems to fly by for Melissa as she feels more relaxed but she can’t help but feel a bit distanced from you and she doesn’t like it. She happens to glance over at your classroom when she’s at her desk and it seemed like you felt her looking as you looked at her from your desk. You smile at her and mouth a ‘hi’ and she does the same. The end of the day comes and she’s locking her classroom up when you come up to her.

“So Melissa.” You say and she turns around and starts walking to the parking lot with you. “I was thinking, you, me and roller skating on Sunday. What do you think?” You ask her and she quirks an eyebrow.

“Hon, I’m 48, I don’t think roller skating is the best idea.” She tells you.

“Oh come on, they have pads and everything and it’s so fun.” You tell her with a smile. 

“Hon, 5 seconds there and I’d fall flat on my face.” She tells you.

“You don’t know how to roller skate, do you?” You ask her and she shakes her head. “Well if you want you can hold my hand the entire time.” You offer and she blushes at the thought. 

“I guess that sounds nice.” She says and your smile gets bigger. 

“Ok, perfect, so I gotta go on a date but I’ll see you tomorrow.” You say and she nods before you run to your car. It takes her a few seconds before the words process in her brain.

“Wait a minute, a date?” She asks but you’re already out of earshot. “Fuck sake.” She mutters before getting in her car. “You know what, it’s fine. I mean I’m having a threesome with her on Saturday and sex with a guy on Sunday.” She says to herself before she takes a breath and then pulls out of the parking lot. 

The next morning you’re all sitting on the couches as Janine goes through the options of escape room themes.

“And then they have like this haunted house one, and it says you’re trapped in the killer's house and you have to escape before he gets back.” Janine says. “It has a very low escape rate.” She adds as she looks. 

You look over to your left and see that Melissa is sitting right beside you with her body turned towards you and laying her head on her head while looking at Janine.

“I say we go with the haunted house one.” She says and you all look at her. 

“The one with a low success rate?” You ask her and she nods.

“It’ll be more satisfying when we escape.” She tells you with a smile, the smile you can never say no to.

“Alright sure, I vote for the haunted house one too.” You say and Janine books it for 6pm.

You notice throughout the morning that Melissa seems to be rubbing her temples and figures she must have a migraine.

“So, is your head bothering you?” You ask her as you both head to the break room and she nods.

“I’ve had this terrible migraine since yesterday and it won’t go away.” She tells you.

“Well did you get more sleep last night?” You ask and she nods. 

“Must be all the stress.” She says and you hum. 

“Well this weekend you have an escape room, a threesome and roller skating. I think all the stress will be gone by Sunday night.” You say and she lets out an airy chuckle.

“Ya, hopefully.” She says as you reach the break room. 

After school ends she sees you talking with Janine as all the kids are getting picked up. You look to be a bit defensive and she’s wondering what you two are talking about. 

“What exactly are you asking, Janine?” You ask her.

“I just want to know if you and Melissa are together.” She says and you shake your head.

“We’re not together. And in case you forgot, she’s currently going through a divorce and Barb and I are just there to support her.” You tell her.

“What about this morning? Her body was facing you even though she didn’t have to do that. They say you can tell based on a person’s body language.” 

“We’re not together, and that’s the end of the discussion.” You say and then walk away to say goodbye to your students. 

You all arrive at the escape room just before 6 and you sign in and pay before you wait. You and Melissa sit beside each other while Janine and Jacob sit together. Janine gives you a look as she looks between you and Melissa and you roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“You ok?” Melissa asks you and you nod.

“Perfectly fine.” You tell her and then a worker comes up.

“Hello, for the haunted house?” He asks and you all nod. “Ok, if you’ll come with me.” He says and you all get up and follow him into the room. He explains all the rules before he leaves and then the countdown starts. 

You all seem to be locked in a jail cell and have to find a key. There seems to be a shelf with a few things on it and you’re able to grab some of them. You lift one and see a number underneath, as well as a couple other ones. Jacob puts the number in a lock and it opens to reveal a magnet wand. You then see the key on the skeleton beside the shelf and you’re able to grab it with the magnet and open the jail door. 

Melissa was able to watch in amusement as you all figure it out and see how much you’re all into this. You all go into what looks like a bedroom and start looking around for clues. Melissa seems to start getting into it when she finds a clue and then she starts helping you all more. She figures out the lock to go into the next room and she lets out a little excited scream that you found cute. 

“So you seem to be into this.” You tell her when the other two are on the other side of the room.

“Ya, it’s quite fun.” She says with a smile.

You’re all trying to figure out the last combination and you go to see that you have 1 minute left. 

“Ok, try 5-3-1-6.” Melissa says with a paper in her hand and Jacob quickly puts it in and it unlocks and you all escape at the last second. You all jump in excitement as you’re happy to beat a difficult one and you high five Melissa for figuring out the last clue. “Well I admit that I enjoyed that more than I thought.” She says as she holds your hand and you smile.

“Ya, escape rooms are so fun.” You say and you don’t miss Janine glancing down at you holding hands with Melissa.

“It looks like you’re together!” Janine blurts out and you roll your eyes as Melissa and Jacob look at her.

“Like I said after school, Melissa and I aren’t together.” You say after letting her hand go.

“But it would make sense.” Janine says and you all go to exit. “I mean you two are always close, always talking, the fact that those meals you bring are made by Melissa, always looking at each other with basically heart eyes and now you were holding hands.” Janine explains and Jacob looks at you and Melissa. 

“It does seem that way.” Jacob says.

“Well youse can stop all the inspecting Sherlock, Y/n and I aren’t together. In fact Y/n just went on a date yesterday and I’m busy filing for divorce.” Melissa tells them. “Barb and Y/n are supporting me through it as it’s been difficult.” She admits and you nod your head in agreement. 

You all walk to your cars and it just so happens you and Melissa parked next to each other. You two are talking and you both don’t notice Janine watching you guys from across the parking lot.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask her and she nods. 

“I’ll pick you up at 6:50. The girl’s house isn’t far from your place.” She tells you and you nod before you have your arms open.

“Can I have a hug?” You ask her and she giggles before she brings you in and kisses you on the lips. You also both don’t notice the huge gasp that Janine does as she sees you both kissing.

“Much better than a hug.” She says before she winks at you and then gets in her car. You do a little goofy smile before you get in your car and drive off. The next day she gets to your house at 6:45 and texts you that she’s here. You come out and get in her car.

“So, are you nervous about tonight?” You ask her and she nods.

“Ya, excited but also incredibly nervous.” She admits.

“It’s ok to be nervous, it’s different and new for you. But I’ll be there with you, which is why you asked me right? To help you feel more comfortable?” You ask her and she nods. “Just relax and go with the flow.” You say as she pulls up at the address the girl gave her.

Melissa ends up getting home at 11pm and she falls on her face on the bed and lets out a groan into the pillow. She turns onto her back and realises how stupid she was tonight. Her jealousy got the best of her and she kept trying to keep your attention on her. At one point you were fingering Avery while Melissa was sitting on her face and she reached behind to grab your free hand. At another point she was teasing your entrance while you and Avery were kissing and she ended up inserting a finger in your entrance and started pumping right away. You immediately pulled away from the kiss and looked at Melissa. 

Melissa was quite proud of that one as it got your attention away from Avery and onto her quite quickly. She enjoyed the threesome, I mean she got off a few times, but she enjoyed it more when your attention was on her. She knows the point of the threesome is for it to be equal amongst the three people, she’s also aware she didn’t spend that much time focusing on the other girl. To be honest it probably wasn’t the best idea to not cancel after she realised her strong feelings towards you. Melissa also wasn’t aware that she had a bit of a jealous streak, she was never jealous when other girls were flirting with Joe. She then thinks of how attracted to Joe she was, or should she say the lack of attraction she felt towards him.

She wants to keep having fun like she’s been doing but doesn’t know if she can enjoy it now that she knows how she feels towards you. She’ll have to wait and see tomorrow night if she enjoys having sex with that guy. She then gets a notification on her phone and she looks at it. One of the girls she matched with is asking her out on a date for next Friday to the bar. She thinks about it for a couple minutes before replying yes. She then puts her phone down and smiles before she goes to get ready for bed.

You get home after Melissa drops you off and you go upstairs to your room. You’re getting undressed when you think about what happened. You noticed Melissa seemed a little possessive of you as you didn’t focus a lot of attention on the other girl as Melissa kept getting your attention back on her. You don’t know if Melissa was like that because you know each other or because she might actually have more feelings for you then she’s letting on. It might also be possible that she just prefers just one on one sex and went with the person she’s most comfortable with. 

You’re a bit biased as you hope it’s because she has more feelings for you than you think due to you being in love with her. You know you accidentally let it slip out last weekend when you were with her but you have no idea if she heard it or if she thought you said something else. Your thoughts are swirling and they’re all centred on Melissa and you start to wonder if she really is safe to fully let into your life. 

You enjoyed the threesome but you enjoy having sex with just Melissa more. You also know that Melissa is more than likely going to start having sex with other people soon and when that happens, there goes all your time with Melissa. You also start to wonder if those other people will treat her right. You know Melissa is strong and can take care of herself but she’s also fragile right now due to her soon to be ex husband.

With all those thoughts you decide to just sleep on it as you have a roller skating date with Melissa tomorrow at 1pm. You finish getting in your pjs and get comfortable in bed.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta 

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@yoyo-w

@fragile-angell

Let me know if you want to be added!

[camelspit]

Looking at it, the cover of the graphic novel is not bad. Like, I think the main thing was just that Fitz is at a weird angle with the light and everything. But looking at like, their expressions and the background? This shit slaps. Especially if the artist had to change her artstyle for the graphic novel.

[solcarow]

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[enyaliuswrites]

➽ Just for Practice

Caleb x fem!reader Thank you @erensfeed for the idea and all the help she gave me!! Tysm nunnie! Hope this is a nice surprise for when you wake up <3 warnings: suggestive topics, mature, kissing (of course)

"Kissing? That’s what got you so worked up? Kissing is why you haven’t been eating my braised pork?" Caleb's lilac eyes fix on you like you’re crazy, a hint of something darker lurking beneath as he frowns.

"Ugh, I told you you wouldn’t get it." you groan, flopping onto your bed in frustration and avoiding his gaze, you didn’t want to see Caleb judging you.

Your high school graduation is just a few months away, but so far, every girl in your class won’t stop talking about the people they’ve kissed this year. Some have only had one kiss, others have had plenty, but out of all of them, you’re the only one who hasn’t had a single one yet. It’s not your fault—you’ve just never found yourself even a little bit attracted to anyone at school.

You didn’t even notice your appetite waning, your mind preoccupied with this. With graduation nearing, the last thing you wanted was to feel left out—missing out on bonding with your friends was the last thing you wanted.

“What’s so special about kissing?? It barely means anything.” his face twists into confusion and disgust, as if really trying to grasp why you’re making such a big deal out of this. Caleb silent mouths ‘kissing?’ before shifting his gaze back to you—just in time for you to throw a pillow straight at his face. But the pillow stops mid-air in front of his face, before dropping onto his lap as he leans back against the chair at your study desk.

“All of my friends have already had their first kiss. That’s like the only thing they’re talking about these days.” Your lips push up into a pout as you grab one of the stuffed animals nearest to you and hug it, allowing your head to rest on the plushie.

“And you’re jealous?” You choke on your saliva, coughing and hacking as your wide eyes meet his—one eyebrow raised and eyes heavy with disbelief. Caleb would’ve never guessed that his girl would grow up to be worried over something as minuscule as a kiss, especially a kiss with someone else.

“I’m not jealous! I mean like… It’s not like… Okay, maybe just a little?” your hands flail wildly all over as you try to defend yourself, but to no avail. Feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks, you take a quick glance and see that Caleb's gaze has darkened.

“Do you even know how to kiss?”

“Caleb… That’s a stupid question,” you murmur, already knowing the answer. Caleb knew that too. “Why would I be so worked up if I—”

With his lilac eyes fixed on you, he tilts his head slightly, then leans forward. “Would you like to know how?” His words cut through your sentence, leaving your lips parted in shock as you prop yourself back up, still clutching the plushie to your chest.

“What? What do you mean?” your brain struggles to process his words, unable to fully make sense of them as you frown and watch him get up. Caleb's tall figure towers over yours as he steps closer, leaning casually against the wall, making you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“I can teach you then, Pip-squeak.” His body lowers, closing the gap between you two as your grip on the plushie loosens. You try to back away, only to find your back pressing against the headboard just inches away.

“I… I mean… does this count as my first kiss?” His right hand reaches out, gently caressing your cheek before softly holding your chin, guiding it towards him.

“Hmm. Think of this as practice.” Caleb's grip on your chin is soft and gentle, completely opposite from his hazy, clouded gaze.

“Oh. Oh…kay then-” you draw the ‘o’ out but as soon as the confirmation leaves your mouth, his lips brush softly against yours. With your eyes closed shut and brows furrowed, he slowly moves, capturing your bottom lip between his own with a delicate pull.

Your body sinks further into the mattress, plush pillows pressing against your back. The bed groans under Caleb's weight as he closes the distance between you, one large palm placed on your hips while the other rests on the headboard. You kiss him back, or at least you try to. You move your lips in the same motion of waves as he does, but everything feels so awkward and off.

Feeling quite embarrassed, and out of air, your intended gently nudges on Caleb's tank top quickly turns into desperate grasps before the kiss finally breaks. You felt like you’ve just ran a marathon—body burning up and your lungs out of breath as you pant, trying to inhale as much oxygen as you could while avoiding eye contact. Though it was harder than you thought, because Caleb was now on top of you, his smirk haunting you as your cheeks flush.

“H-hey! Don’t look at me like that. I told you I don’t know how to kiss…” Your voice grows quieter each passing second as it somehow ends up as a tiny squeak. The sound of Caleb's laughter fills your ears as you turn back to him, his knee now finds itself between your legs as his face hovers just above yours.

“You’re overthinking this, Pip-squeak. Just follow what I do.” Though his words are reassuring, that husky tone in his voice throws you off as he quickly captures your lips into a kiss for the second time. Caleb's lips move against yours in a soft, sensual way as you try your best to mimic him. Remembering what he did to you, you trap the soft fullness of his lower lip and gently apply suction to it. His hums of approval catch you off guard as you feel a subtle rumble of his chest—Caleb's hand snaking down to the small of your back, before pulling your body flush against his.

As if a flip has just been switched, Caleb's lips move frantically against yours, biting your lower lips then soothing the sting with his tongue. Your lips part at the sudden pain, allowing his tongue to delve into your mouth. Soft whimpers escape from your throat as Caleb explores you, tracing every corner and leaving an odd-yet-pleasurable feeling as he does so. Surprised, and a little scared, you push his body off of yours as you cover your mouth in shock, the faint apple taste still lingering in your mouth.

“Your tongue… Do you still use that apple flavored toothpaste or something? Because that’s all I’m feeling? Tasting?” Caleb grabs your hands, lowering it as a light chuckle leaves his lips.

“You’re a natural, Pip-squeak.” Completely ignoring what you just said as his thumb caresses your cheek and he stares at your lips, as if capturing them in a kiss with his eyes, “But I think you need a little bit more practice. What do you say?”

“Oh….Um…” Your voice comes out as uncertain mumbles and murmurs while his face only inches closer to yours. That’s when you realize how Caleb's body is pressed against yours, radiating heat—how heat crept up his neck and spreaded to his ears. How his lilac eyes were still clouded with a hazy and clouded look.

“I think you need more practice.” Caleb already had a taste of you and now he can’t get enough. Your scent seeps into his senses, impossible to ignore—like an addict chasing his next fix. He took your first kiss and now he’s going to take your every first. He was going to make sure of it.

A/N: Ughhh, this was quite hard to write considering I’ve never kissed anyone before. BUT. I have read many writings about kissing so I hope that’ll make up for this. Stay delusional ya’lls! (*´∀`*) Dividers by @omi-resources

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

~

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

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