#don’t forget your disclaimers babes

[problematiq]

[pedriache]

Cat parents — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’d been begging your boyfriend to adopt the stray outside your house for months, and he each time he repeatedly said no, insisting he ‘hates cats.’ So why did you come home from work one day to see him on the couch.. with the cat.

Word count: 475

Disclaimer/s: Gavi is still 19 in this!

A/N: how can anyone ever hate cats they are too adorable sigh

“Please?” Your try and make your best ever yet, puppy dog eyes. Pleading with your boyfriend. “Pleaseee? Cairo would be a good addition! Our house is so quiet and sad without him!”

“No.” Gavi stands his ground, shaking his head firmly. “You know I don’t like cats.”

You gasp, covering the poor black cat’s ears, “she can hear you!” The cat, who you’d named Cairo, purrs quietly in your lap.

Gavi huffs, albeit amused. “Go to work, babe. You’re going to be late.” He points to your car, “and have a good day.” He finishes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Letting out a disappointed breath of air, you mumble a quick ‘goodbye’ to both Gavi and Cairo before climbing inside your car and driving away.

—

You’d just arrived home, tired and weary and just wanting to flop onto the couch and sleep. Tugging off your bag and shoes, setting them aside carefully, you make your way into the living room.

“I’m home!—“ You yell out, stopping in your tracks when you notice who is on the couch. Your boyfriend, smiling, and.. Cairo?

Laid on your boyfriend’s lap, purring comfortably was the stray cat you’d been told ‘no’ to more times than you could count, and your boyfriend. Fast asleep, one hand on Cairo’s skinny back.

You smile at the sight, taking in the scene. Gavi, who apparently ‘hated cat’s’ seemed so comfortable napping with one. Shaking your head with a quiet laugh, you sit down beside him, causing him to stir from his slumber.

Gavi lulls his head to the side, still half asleep, “you’re back late.” He hums, voice raspy.

“Traffic was a nightmare.” You chuckle, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips, to which he greets with a smile.

“Are you forgetting to tell me about how this came to be?” You mumble against his lips, pulling back to look at the sleeping cat.

“He looked so sad..” Gavi trails off, “so I fed him and gave him some water. Then I realized he must be so tired and full so..” He shrugs, “we fell asleep, I guess.”

“How adorable.” You tease, hand reaching out to pat his cheek before it falls to Cairo’s head, gently petting it. “So we’re keeping him?”

Gavi taps his chin, feigning to think, as if he hadn’t been waiting hours for you to come home to tell you. “I suppose.” He finally sighs out, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“We’ll treat you real good, Cairo.” You whisper, placing a kiss on the top of the cat’s head, earning a loud purr from him.

“The best teen parent’s ever?” Gavi chides, which you laugh at, nodding in response.

“The best.” You agree, looking back up to your boyfriend, “thank you.” Gavi only smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead once again.

DTS , @halfwayhearted ^_^

[byuntrash101]

headache

reader x soft dom!seonghwa smut | mdni 1.7k you've been suffering from headaches recently but your boyfriend knows exactly how to get rid of them nsfw tags under the cut

very gentle and soft dom!hwa, established relationship, daddy kink, pet names (babygirl, angel), making out, oral (f), fingering (f), hwa is pussy drunk, tiny bit of possessive!hwa, praising, edging, watersports + omorashi

a/n: i stumbled on a twitter p♡rn link and it blossomed into this <3. a lot of you asked me for more ws so here it is hehe. i hope you enjoy. if it's not your thing it's okay! just dont read okay babe? i have other fics for you in the masterlist <3

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN’T ENJOY.

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Recently you’ve been suffering from recurring headaches. At first you thought it was your cycle. But then you became more attentive to when the headaches occurred. And it turns out you simply were not drinking enough water! The thing is that your headaches always happened when you got home after being at your boyfriend's place for a couple of days. Simply because, well, when you were there you’re too busy cuddling and kissing to be taking your lips off him for even a second to drink a sip of water. 

The good thing is it’s an easy remedy: just drink more water.

And Seonghwa intends to ensure your good hydration this time. Out of kindness of course, out of love! Nothing more! He just hates when you get home and call him the next day with your small little voice to tell him you had to lock yourself up in the dark, because your head is ringing and he can’t even be around you to pamper you and take care of his baby, that breaks his heart. He hates to know you’re in pain.

So today your loving boyfriend makes sure you do just that: drink more water.

When you watched the latest episode of your series on Netflix he paused several times to get you a full glass of water. When you ate your take out again three full glasses of water. 

Chilling on your phone watching tiktok “don’t forget your water baby~”. Listening to his hilarious work stories “your water babe”. 

Even going as far as making you drink when he held you in his arms and you complained about not being able to reach the glass on the coffee table. 

“Here baby” he said, putting the rim of the glass against your lips. 

He couldn’t explain it but he felt himself twitch at the way your lips pursed up and opened slightly around the glass, your neck bending and following his wrist as he tilted the glass to let the water flow into your mouth. He throbbed at the way the water disappeared into your mouth as you swallowed in big gulps until the glass was completely empty, the ice cubes tinkling against the glass as he set the cup back on the coffee table. 

“Aaaaah~” you sighed in satisfaction. “Thanks Hwa”

“You’re welcome my angel” he said before pecking your lips made cool from the fresh water.

God how pretty you were like this, wrapped up in his arms like a fragile little bird, looking up at him with this bright smile and shiny wet lips. 

He planted another kiss right on your wet mouth but this time he parted his lips, his hot tongue reaching out to your cool one. Kissing you gently but deeply sharing his warmth and spit until your mouth was burning hot. Long fingers wrapping around your nape and pushing your face further into his. The gesture made you moan into his mouth making him smirk into the kiss. He loved the sounds that you made. So much so that he haphazardly reached for the TV remote to mute the device. He wanted to hear you, only you.

Then Seonghwa slipped you out of his lap to sit you on the couch. He kneeled in front of you to very carefully flip the hem of your skirt over your stomach. He couldn’t help but to smirk when his eyes finally laid on the beautiful lacey panties you were wearing today. One of his favorites. Baby pink with a pearly bow in the center. A pair he picked and gifted you.

“So fucking perfect” he breathed as you pushed your thighs together, feeling your arousal pool into the lace as he praised you. 

He bent over your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, working his way up until he pressed a couple more to your pubic bone. You jerked a little as he pressed his face a little too hard on your lower stomach, given how much water you had drank.

“Now be a good girl for daddy and spread your legs” as he sat back up. You looked down at him through your lashes but still you obeyed and parted your knees as you heard your boyfriend curse under his breath. He smirked, spotting the wet patch of fabric, making the pink ever so slightly darker. 

“You’re wet already angel?” he snickered, his palm caressing your open thighs.

“Y-yeah. I got wet when daddy was tongue kissing me” you confessed before biting down on your lower lip.

“Fuck” Seonghwa swore again, his dick twiching in his pants, he could feel himself already leaking precum onto his boxers. He just loved when you were so upfront with him. You looked so innocent, covering half of your face with your back hand and breathing rapidly but your pussy was already soaked and gushing for him. And you had no shame admitting it and exposing yourself to him. To his eyes only. You were his only

He pulled on your legs to bring your ass to the edge of the couch before pulling your panties down, not even taking the time to discard them, just letting them hang on one of your ankles before he prompted you to spread your legs for him again.

The way your pussy lightly twitched and sparkled covered in your juices had his cock quivering in his sweatpants. He wanted to taste you. He needed to.

He approached his face to your sopping center and licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. Right before curling his tongue back in his mouth, scooping as much of your slick as he could, smacking his lips to fully take in your taste. Your flavor was sweeter than honey and more intoxicating than the strongest liquors.

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around your under thighs and pushed his palms on your hips. Securing you right in his hold and spreading you like a buffet.

“Fuck daddy~” you whined.

He approached his mouth once again but this time his lips wrapped around your clit as he gave you light kitten licks. He looked up at you lapping away at your bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help but to moan at the pleasure you felt. Soon you started to rock your hips, rubbing your juices onto his face as he didn’t alter his pace.

“Please Daddy” you complained, yearning for more.

“My baby girl is so eager” he said, not parting his lips from your heat.

“It’s because I love daddy’s mouth so much.” you whined. “Please let me cum on daddy’s tongue”

“Soon my baby. But daddy wants to taste you thoroughly first”

Minutes passed and Seonghwa was taking so much pleasure in edging you. Licking and sucking on your clit only to back away when he felt you twitch on his tongue just to see your precious little cunt throb around nothing and gushing out more of your juices just to be savored by him and repeat the process over and over again.

But at some point you couldn’t even focus on the pleasure anymore. The only thing you felt was how full you were. How full your bladder felt.

“Daddy” you started cautiously. 

“Yes angel?” your boyfriend replied, face still buried deep in your throbbing cunt.

“I-I think I drank too much water. I need to go to the b-bathroom” you said, shame slowly creeping under your skin.

Seonghwa smirked against your folds. Only to latch onto your clit again, this time licking more precisely on the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan loudly and arch your back.

“It’s okay baby. Daddy doesn’t mind.” he growled, eating you out like a starved man.

“No please daddy stop” you begged as you felt your pussy contract around nothing, your bladder also contracting dangerously. “It’s gross daddy” you complained, kicking your feet as the pleasure kept on rising.

“If it’s too much for you, just let go, okay angel?” He cooed against your folds.

“Please daddy…” you inhaled sharply, feeling yourself filled to the brim with piss. “Gonna p-” you whined but Seonghwa interrupted you.

“Just piss in daddy’s mouth baby” he said, pushing on your hips angling them just right. And you just couldn’t hold it in any longer. You let out your hot steamy piss right into your boyfriend's mouth. Seonghwa backed up a little and stuck his long tongue out as the powerful stream hit him right in the back of the throat letting out gurgles of satisfaction, gulping down as much piss as he could, mouth rapidly filling up to overflow and wetting his gray sweatpants.

When the stream started to slow down he wrapped his lips around your clit again and shoved two long fingers inside your cunt that he curled right into your g spot, pressing against your bladder again. The stream of hot piss picked up.

He wanted to drain you, take all of your piss for himself. 

He started to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt rapidly.

“Fuck daddy loves your piss much baby” he briefly said before sucking and licking your clit again, swallowing more of your delicious nectar.

“Daddy I'm cumming” you cried out.

“Cum for daddy baby” he allowed. And you finally leap over the edge. The orgasm is one of the most intense ones you’ve experienced. It completely rips through your body and shatters the earth beneath you as your legs tense up and your hips shake uncontrollably. Your hungry little cunt violently twitching around Seonghwa’s relentless fingers still pumping in and out of you, accompanying you on your descent, grunting and humming against your folds and he licked and sucked on your swollen bud until the pleasure died down and your legs fell limp, hanging over Seonghwa’s toned shoulders. 

Seonghwa took a moment to admire your red and swollen cunt, occasionally twitching with the remnants on the strong orgasm your felt, sticky juices still lazily oozing out your entrance. He licked out one last stripe from your entrance and parted your lips with his tongue to twirl around your pee hole one last time.

“I think you’re cured now” he beamed at you smacking his lips, relishing in the intoxicating taste of your slick and piss one last time.

What a good boyfriend he was making sure you drank enough and making you cum to prevent your headaches.

IF YOU ENJOYED DONT FORGET TO REBLOG 🖤

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a/n: im still so self conscious about publishing watersports and this one was very filthy sooo pleaseeeeee comment and tell me if you enjoyed okay? just drop an anon ask if u dont want to leave ur userid on here! i would appreciate it so much <333

[serendipitous-seven]

i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." | jungkook x f!reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, crack, idiots [i say that with luv for my characters] word count: 17.2k  tags/warnings:��a child [Mai] is present throughout the entire story, implication of absent birth mother, serial dater JK, so much pining, pg language, conversation about sleeping around/risking pregnancy, legal-aged drinking & getting drunk, hurtful words/heated argument, isolation, blurb about reader struggling to eat, Mai experiences anxiety [I promise she is okay], plethora of cheesy occurrences, much fluff & angst all because sowoozoo-muster-JK wrecked me

series mlist

this is a repost from my old blog, moon-write.

Thank you to the realest one, @hyungieyoongi, for not only wanting to beta-read this insanity for me when I initially enlisted her for help, but also for hyping me up while doing it. Her editing gave this story clarity ;; 

disclaimer: the portrayal of Jungkook in this story is purely fictional & does not reflect who he is in real life nor do I claim to believe it does. lastly, this story is not a part of my dad!bts series, a serendipitous life - singledad!jungkook is in its own universe.

a/n: GUYS. this story was purely created because I was under the influence of sowoozoo/muster JK back in 2021. I am so beyond excited to bring this back and share this cracked out fic again, I truly hope you all enjoy it and just have fun reading it.

“Mai, don’t be so dramatic,” you take the little girl’s hands into yours, dusting off the chalk from her palms, “look-see, it comes off!”

She beams up at you with a know-it-all smile before taking yellow chalk from the bucket and continuing her doodle on the concrete. You watch her as she makes a big circle, stopping to make sure it’s just right before looking at you once more.

“Can you make the lines?” She inquires with big eyes, you run your hand through her long hair and happily oblige; Mai stands and watches you, pressing her hand onto your shoulder; “daddy will like it!”

You chuckle, nodding, “your dad will love it.”

She kneels, taking blue chalk this time to draw clouds, a mixture of pastel colors in the shape of her handprint now adorning the sleeve of your shirt.

Adding butterflies to the chalk creation per Mai’s request, you hear the back gate open, and following is the sound of Mai’s jovial squeals. Quick to abandon the chalk, she runs into the doting arms of her father, Jungkook. Uncaring to her chalky hands, Jungkook sweeps Mai into a hug with no intention of letting go.

“Kiss,” he mutters to her as you walk over, dusting your hands off on your jeans. Mai presses her smaller palms onto his cheeks, squishing them in the process of giving him a quick peck.

“Oops,” she giggles, noticing the chalk she’s left on his cheeks.

“We made you a drawing,” Mai soon forgets, wiggling to move Jungkook forward. He smiles at you, following his daughter’s direction to the drawing. Mai, her eyes an exact mirror of her father’s, watches him as he takes it all in. 

Jungkook marvels at his little girl’s work; “thank you, babe,” he says, kissing Mai’s cheek who nods with pride, bunny teeth sticking out. She looks over at you, singing your praises for bringing the bucket of chalk as a surprise.

“I told you I’d bring a surprise if you got A’s and B’s, right?” You smile, winking at Mai.

Jungkook thanks you before telling Mai to run inside and wash up for dinner. You follow him to the patio table and take a seat, noting the exhaustion of another long day falling over him. He runs his hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment before remembering his best friend is still there.

You offer him a pitiful smile, drawing him to roll his eyes and laugh, “what?”

You shake your head, “nothing.”

He straightens his gaze but even then, a hint of his sweet smile remains noticeable, “it’s never nothing.”

“But it really is this time. Besides,” you laugh, “am I never not worried about you and Mai?”

He just nods.

“You’re doing a great job Jungkook,” you pat his tattooed arm, “you are the light of her life.”

Jungkook looks back at the chalk drawing Mai doodled on the concrete, giggling to himself. Caught in his stupor and the innocence of his daughter, he comes to, looking at you; “these last seven years would have gone a lot differently if we didn’t have you though.”

-Seven years ago-

“It’s okay,” you try to soothe a newborn Mai but her shrill cries drown out your voice. You burn a trail around the living room as you pace, stealing glances at Jungkook who’s sat at the edge of his sofa. With clumps of his hair gathered between fisted palms, he’s never looked so defeated.

“Let’s try feeding her again,” you stand in front of him, hand reaching for the bottle next to him. Too caught in the frantic cry of his baby, he doesn’t hear you.

“Jungkook,” your tone is stern and you nudge his foot with yours, “come on, you can’t give up now, get it together.” A moment of hurt sweeps over his eyes when he looks up at you, but keeping your feet on firm ground, you push away the guilt that rushes you. 

You clear your throat, “her bottle Jungkook, please.”

He does as you say, his eyes wide as he looks at his daughter for the first time since you arrived. You press the rubber tip to Mai’s lips, allowing a drop of the warm formula to touch her lips, “I promise you’ll love it, Mai.” You try to joke though there is a hint of begging in your tone. 

Her cry breaks for a moment as the milk drips onto her tongue; “there you go,” laughter coats the nervous tremble in your voice this time.

You allow a couple more drops to fall onto her tongue until Mai’s cries ease into small whimpers. Her breathing staggers as she takes to the bottle, “see?” You can’t help but giggle. Looking at Jungkook, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration, he watches in shock while Mai drinks from the bottle as small puffs of air escape her nose.

“Use the rag on my shoulder to wipe her face, will you?” You ask him and he does just so, dabbing at Mai’s red cheeks, ridding her of her tears.

“I tried everything the last hour to get her to stop,” he whispers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes though he continues to marvel at the innocence wrapped in your arms. You watch as your best friend takes Mai’s foot in his hand, thoughtfully squeezing her toes before he moves his hand back to her head, rubbing her barely-there hair as far back as he can.

“Here,” you gesture for Jungkook to take his daughter and he steps back in fright. You chuckle, “you have to get used to holding her Kook, I won’t be here all the time.”

“Why?” He looks at you with all sincerity.

You shake your head, “she’ll be safe with you.”

He places the rag over his shoulder this time and holds his arms out. Mai fusses during the exchange and Jungkook shushes her in a gentle prive as he holds her against his chest; “just hold the bottle upright - yeah,” you say as you help to adjust her in his arms. 

He cradles his large hand behind her head while her tiny body rests along his arm. He stands straight as a pin, fear taking up most of his expression as he looks down on his feeding daughter.

“Is this the first time you’re holding her?” You ask.

He gives you a look that can only mean yes, “my mom has been staying with us, she left right before you came,” he shakes his head, embarrassed to admit, “I was too scared.”

A soft laugh escapes you, “well, how’s it feel now?”

“Still scary,” he says seriously, “but I never want to put her down again.”

You stand back, watching him take all of her in. A month ago your best friend had his life made - living a bachelor lifestyle his friends envied, had a stellar career as the most sought realtor, owner of a newly built home. He was a free man who could do whatever, whenever.

That was until one drunken decision in the past came back nine months later in the form of a newborn baby.

Swaying back and forth with a slight strain in his movement, Jungkook watches Mai’s drooping lids; “can I do this?” He asks in a dream-like state leaving you to wonder if he really wanted an answer. That is until he moves his eyes to look at you. 

You shrug with a pitied smile, “you love her, right?”

He frowns for a second, nodding without hesitation.

“Then you can do it, Jungkook.”

“I’d offer for you to stay for dinner but you probably have another date with what’s-his-name,” Jungkook closes the sliding glass door behind you two, sweeping Mai into his arms. The three of you make your way into the kitchen where he sets his daughter on the counter, inspecting her hands to make sure she’s cleaned them properly.

He playfully sniffs them before kissing her palms.

“For the thousandth time, his name is Mark, and no actually,” you laugh watching the two tease each other back and forth, Jungkook’s attention split between the two of you, “I don’t think that’s happening anymore.”

He stands upright, covering Mai’s ears which only sends her into a fit to hear the adult talk, too grown for her age. She fights to move her dad’s hands but to no avail.

“Bad kisser? I knew it,” he shakes his head while moving Mai’s from side to side. Belly laughs erupt from her small body as she begs for her dad to stop.

“Shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. He chuckles, removing his hands from Mai and kissing her forehead.

You sit at the end of the long dining table next to Mai, Jungkook at the head of the table as usual. He finishes reading Mai’s fortune before they look at you.

“Your turn!” Mai shouts, holding a single noodle between her trainer chopsticks.

The cookie crumbles between your fingers as you unroll the small strip of paper, clearing your throat; “an old love will come back to you.”

Jungkook dramatically ooh’s and Mai follows, her small lips shaped into a perfect circle. Victim to Mai’s purity you squeeze her nose, “who could that be?” You tease her.

“Not me,” she giggles, “maybe daddy, he’s old!”

You fall back into your chair, eyes brimming with tears as you hold onto your belly full of Chinese food, laughing at the expense of your best friend.

“Funny,” he tries not to laugh, stuffing the remains of his fortune cookie into his mouth.

Chirping crickets and a black sky surround Jungkook’s home. You listen to the sound echo up into the vaulted ceilings, looking out of the opened windows. Taken by the quiet that surrounds his place, you shut your eyes and bask in it until the sound of Jungkook’s feet shuffles down the hallway.

“I don’t know whose good side I am on,” he sighs with relief, grabbing his glass of wine on the way to the sofa, “but she falls asleep like that.” He snaps his fingers.

You smile, peeling your attention away from the window.

Now dressed in baggy clothes that swallow up his svelte build, Jungkook takes a generous sip from his glass before patting the space next to him, “so, what’s wrong with this guy?”

You stop on your way to the sofa, eyebrows raised with sarcasm, “let’s cut the attitude, yeah?”

He can’t help but laugh, moving his leg when you finally sit down, “joking,” he reassures you, “but I mean, this is the third guy you’ve rejected and I didn’t even get to meet him.”

You shrug, “like you really wanted to?” Quirking an eyebrow at him, Jungkook can’t seem to look at you, laughing into his wine glass; “who’s worse here? You’ve always had at least one thing to complain about every guy I’ve brought around.”

“The bean and I have a preliminary process when it comes to guys you date,” he shrugs, licking a stray drop of wine before it can drip onto his sweatpants.

“Yes because a seven year old has a lot to say about adults and dating,” you chuckle, pushing Jungkook’s shoulder, “anyway, you aren’t missing out on anything Kook - and besides, I don’t want to introduce people into your guys’ life until I’m sure about them this time.”

Jungkook’s playfulness dies off, the wine in his glass not as interesting as the sullen look forming on your face. He watches you, the way you bend forward, one side of your hair tucked behind your ear while you anxiously pick at your cuticles.

He nudges your knee with his so you can look at him, a reassuring smile awaiting you, “that last guy fooled us all, okay?”

You sigh as a way to say, ‘it’s forgotten…no big deal…whatever…’ but Jungkook knows it’s a stain you’ve struggled to rid of for a while; “he’s been out of my life for a long time and that’s all that matters,” you stiffen your upper lip.

“Mm, cheers to that,” he clicks his glass against your water bottle, “but seriously, can I ask you something?”

You brace yourself, nodding.

“Except for that trash bag, you always seem to find a flaw in every guy you date,” Jungkook stalls for a second, reading your temperament before continuing, “why?”

Your eyes crinkle, suddenly underneath a spotlight, “do I?”

Jungkook resorts to his scrunch-nosed laugh, “are you kidding?”

“Well, okay Mr. Dating-expert,” you cross one leg over the other taking on a new defense, “you don’t find enough flaws in the women lined up outside of your house every day - why?”

He nearly spat out his wine, setting the glass down with hands surrendered to the air, “false accusation, you know I don’t bring women back here because of Mai-”

“Okay okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” you sit back.

He laughs, “but fair enough, I guess we both don’t have the best track record when it comes to dating.”

You stand up, pulling your bag over your shoulder, “I hate to agree since it concerns me too.”

Jungkook walks you to the front door, “I’m curious to find out who this ‘old love’ is,” you turn just as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

You force a smile with squinted eyes, “do you know me at all, Jeon? I don’t believe in fortunes, remember?”

He gives you a quick hug, watching you walk the path to your car; “I can’t wait to prove you wrong,” he says from the door.

You wave him off, “yeah-yeah save the love spiel for another time, goodnight!”

On your drive home, absent in mind, you rake your fingers through your hair. The bright glow of the red traffic light casts over you when you come to a full stop. ‘An old love will come back to you.’ You snort at the thought; they are simply typed words on a piece of paper. It means nothing.

“You don’t believe in stupid fortunes,’” you sing into the void of your car.

But it still makes your stomach queasy. Heart palpitating in your chest while your palm becomes sweaty as you ring it around the steering wheel.

“Let’s not go back there…”

“Hello? What do you mean no big deal?” Nic’s voice is a clear call into the late night, earning herself a stern look from you. “Whisper please,” you hiss through your teeth, “Mai never sleeps well when Jungkook is away, it was hell getting her down tonight.”

Nic looks at you with wily eyes, spinning every which way you turn before she gets dizzy; “oh my god, stop for sec!”

In a huff to clean up Mai’s after-dinner doodle session - crayons strewn across the table and several drawings she made as gifts for her dad’s return from a work trip, you look at your friend with exasperation painted on your face, “it’s literally what I mean Nic.”

She blinks in rapid-fire, sitting down on the ottoman while you work around the dining room. “So I’m crazy, okay yeah. Because telling me that you’re in love with your best friend of a million years is totally normal.”

You shudder at how easily those words come out of Nic’s mouth while Jungkook’s daughter sleeps in your bed. Too young to understand anyway, you can’t help but want to protect Mai from this very sensitive information about her dad.

Nic rolls her eyes, “oh relax, she’s asleep now. I’m spiraling over here, okay?”

“Just, come on,” you hit the side of your leg with the cleaning rag, desperate to get your point across, “discretion, please? This is not information I want to be tossed around.”

“How long have you felt this way?” She watches you in your haste, cleaning every speck left on the table in an attempt to avoid the conversation. You’re steeped in regret for even mentioning it to Nic. It was a confession locked in the depths of Pandora's box. 

It just came out.

“I don’t know,” you groan, disappearing into the kitchen before returning with washed hands and deadpan eyes.

Nic twists around the ottoman to face you when you come around, plopping yourself on the sofa.

“That’s a lie,” she states the obvious.

The popcorn texture of your ceiling suddenly becomes interesting when you toss your head back. I need to get my ceilings smoothed. You think to yourself while Nic waits. She won’t back down.

“I remember the exact moment I fell in love with him,” you sigh, tossing your hands up only to bring them back down on the cushions. You sit upright and look at Nic, “but it’s futile to even detail that because it’s never going to happen.”

“Do you want it to? I mean really want it to? Because he has a kid…”

Eyebrows knit together, you both have to laugh at that.

“I mean, you know, getting with Jungkook means taking on a child - although worthy to mention, a kid who absolutely adores you-”

“Please, don’t make me hurt more,” you press the pads of your fingers over your shut eyes, “I can’t even fathom how much it would confuse her - and I won’t entertain this past today. I can’t.”

“You’ve obviously been holding onto this for a long time-”

“And it ends today. Jungkook is my best friend, I vowed to be here for him and Mai as his friend, that’s it.”

“Okay, and when he finds a suitable woman and falls in love with her, then what?”

You can’t help the sadness that overwhelms your entire chest, eyes piercing through Nic, “ouch.”

“I’m sorry,” she takes on a new look of pity, leaning forward, “but that’s the reality, isn’t it? If you aren’t willing to-”

“Willing to what Nic? Confess to Jungkook and ruin our friendship? Ruin my relationship with Mai?” You retort, smiling because this is just too ridiculous to even consider.

“How can you assume he doesn’t feel the same?” Nic rebuttals.

You shake your head, “it’s not happening.”

That was 2 years ago. A night you remember all too clearly but push away along with the feelings steaming inside of you - chewed up and swallowed only to return from time to time like a bad case of acid reflux.

You scoff at the fortune bouncing around in your head, “not happening.”

“What are we shopping for exactly?” Nic comes up next to you, raking through the neutral-toned tops with not much of a care about what she is seeing.

“Um,” you pick out two tank tops and hold them up against you waiting for her approval, “that cruise I’m going on next month - didn’t we talk about it?”

“Oh yeah, wait-who are you going with and why was I not invited?” She queries, noting the way you move swiftly toward the dressing rooms.

You chuckle, “I didn’t plan this trip, I was invited,” you shut the door to the changing room before Nic can follow you in. She leans against it, quirking an eyebrow, “cheeky,” she laughs, “who invited you?”

She listens to you mull over your choices, hearing your feet shuffle on the carpeted floor; “uh, Jungkook did.”

You are immediately met with silence, peeking at the bottom of the mirror where Nic’s feet reflect as she turns to face the door. “Come again? You failed to mention this romantic getaway would be with your best friend-” 

Opening the door, Nic nearly falls in when you catch her. You roll your eyes; “have you always been this dramatic?”

She shrugs, “one of us has to be-back to my question.”

“Not a romantic getaway, Mai is coming and-”

“Wh-like a family vacation-”

“Nic!” Your jaw sets and she shuts it quickly, “his parents are also going, okay?”

Your friend blinks in disbelief and you give her a look that wills away any sarcastic comment she has at the ready. 

You have to hand it to her, she’s a witty one; “besides it’s kind of a company cruise for him, all the employees are allowed to bring guests, okay?”

“Noted,” she purses her lips. 

The silence between purchasing your items and the walk to the car is thick with Nic’s wandering mind.

“Can you just answer one thing for me?” You’re already sighing before she can ask her question once at the car. Tossing your bags in the back before getting into the driver’s seat with Nic buckled up and raring to go; “have you worked through all of that - you know, your feelings?”

You nod, “for the most part.” Nic drops her forehead into her hands, kneading away at her temples and you have to laugh, “okay, yes I have, is that better Nicola?”

“If you weren’t such a bad liar, yeah it would be!” Nic tentatively shoves your shoulder, laughing with you, “how do you manage it because I sure as hell could not.”

You relax for a moment coming to a red light, “Mai is number one here, how she feels matters first-”

“That is very noble of you, but hello, you’re human and your feelings matter too,” Nic adds with pointed inflect, “and I can’t believe I’m saying this but Jungkook should know better, inviting you to family functions like the three of you are a family before he runs off with some random-”

“Nic,” you send a wavering look her way, “I don’t mind watching Mai when I have the time, I love her-she’s like-” you startle yourself, “I just love her, alright? I don’t mind it.”

Nic shakes her head when you turn away, your eyes set back on the road. An uneasy feeling settles inside of her, wondering how you’d managed to lie into believing all of that; “Look, you know I care about you. I know he does too I just think he’s a little blind and I’m just worried it’s hurting you-”

“I’m fine,” you practically sing.

“Okay, so you are now but it will hurt you eventually if you keep pretending like this,” Nic flattens her tone.

“I said I am fine,” you say with emphasis, “anyway, it’s Sunday which means dinner at their house-” you look at her knowing she has a smirk waiting for you. You both look at each other on instinct, eyes squinted at one another, “so I am inviting you to come with, okay?”

You both laugh; “yeah whatever, I’ll join your weird not-family-tradition for tonight.”

Sunday dinner with the Jeons proceeds as usual given the extra guest. Nic prides herself on where she can observe the oddities of your friendship with Jungkook and his daughter. Even she, sworn to never birth children herself, can’t help the fluttering of her ovaries as she watches the camaraderie built between you and Jungkook’s daughter. Mai teasingly stiffens her upper lip, shoving her face near yours while a goofy voice bellows out of her. You roll your eyes at her, laughing before attacking her sides with tickling fingers.

It’s a smile on Jungkook’s face that Nic hasn’t seen before. Spending many a night out with the two of you and friends, she’s used to the suave Jungkook she’s seen at clubs. The way he talks to women, motions for them, how he sticks his tongue out just enough for flirtatious emphasis when he’s curled up with one. His ego is seen clearly across the dance floor; Nic is sure her face is turning green at the very thought of it.

“Alright kiddo,” Jungkook stretches, “it’s late-”

“Dad,” Mai whines, clinging on to you. You hide your laugh, noting the way she tries to fight her sleepiness in front of him.

He shakes his head, “it’s a school night Mai- bathroom - brush your teeth, now.”

You can’t help but feel sorry for her, catching her pitiful stare that has so fittingly fallen on you, you chuckle, “come on, I’ll tuck you in afterward.”

With that little bit of incentive, Mai jumps off the couch, quick to slouch when she passes by her dad, meekly waving goodbye to Nic before she disappears down the hallway; “be right back,” you call to them, following Mai’s very sad trail into the darkness.

Nic sighs, eyes quick to find Jungkook, “so-” her smile flattens when he finally looks at her.

“So?” He adds, his eyes slit in wonder. Nic has always been the wild card with a fiery tongue.

She widens her grin, “I hear you and your family are going on a cruise.”

He just nods, smiling into his glass before taking a drink, “she’s coming too.”

“I mean that was implied-” Nic snorts, “that’s sweet.”

Jungkook chuckles, catching the sarcastic look in Nic’s eyes, “what are you on about?”

“Jeon Jungkook you are clue-”

“She was falling asleep while brushing her teeth,” you come out with a hushed laugh, “practically had to carry her into bed.”

Jungkook tears his eyes away from Nic, both friends staring at you before they force a laugh. You shrug it off, grabbing your things along with Nic’s who meets you at the door. Jungkook follows, his hands shoved inside of his pockets.

“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Nic exaggerates her tone, accepting Jungkook’s hug before getting into the car.

You turn back to him with eyebrows raised and he shrugs.

“Okay, well I’m going to be pretty busy with work the next few weeks, they want overtime - god-” 

Jungkook laughs while you struggle to get your arm in the sleeve of your jacket; “the sleeve is twisted-here,’ he says, pulling it out and holding it straight for you.

“Thanks.”

“I guess we’ll see you at the ship then,” he says, playfully pushing you toward your car.

You gently kick his ankle, “night, Jeon.”

He smiles at you, bending forward to wave at Nic who offers him a short smile; “text me when you get home.”

As always, you wave to him without a second look.

“Did dad receive the confirmation for your parking spot,” Jungkook asks while swinging his keys around his pointer finger, leaving a house he just showed, “it has the information on where you’ll park your car at the port.” 

“He did and what about you, will you be doing the same?” Mrs. Jeon then asks about you, “how will she get there?”

He can’t help but giggle, his ever-curious mother always wondering about you, worrying that a small task may be a little too inconvenient for you, “you should pick her up really.”

Jungkook settles into his car, a playful eye roll following his mother’s assumptions, “already taken care of mom.”

“Good,” a sigh of relief can be heard on his end, “how is she anyway, we haven’t seen her since Mai’s little school performance.”

“Slow down, yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, “she’s busy too but good, I think anyway. She came over Sunday for dinner-”

“As usual,” Mrs. Jeon snickers to herself, “why don’t you bring her over here for dinner once in a while? I would like to see her too.”

“You really want that?” He arches an eyebrow.

Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue, “yah, my son, you say that as if she hasn’t been an important part of my grandchild’s life. Of course, we want to see her but you say she’s always busy.”

“Oh,” he pouts, thinking it over, “well we have a whole week to catch up so you can make up for lost time then.”

“Mhm,” he could hear the smirk on his mom’s face, “she deserves a break Jungkook-ah, you know?”

Jungkook nods as if his mom could see him, “of course she does.”

“Between her work and then watching the baby, you keep her busy.”

Jungkook frowns, “yah mom, this is why Mai acts like a baby sometimes, she’s not a baby anymore, she’s turning eight-”

Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue in protest again, “she’ll always be my grand-baby, and you - you’re forever my baby…”

He can’t help but smile this time, “yeah, I know. Anyway, you make it sound like I employ her or something, she comes in on her free time- whenever she pleases.”

“Ok ok,” his mother’s gentle laugh he can remember so clearly from childhood eases out of her, “I just worry she’ll think otherwise.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t mom,” Jungkook sighs.

“Anyway, that’s what dad and I will be there for, yeah? To spend time with Mai and give you two some free time to do whatever-”

“And some family time with all of us, but I appreciate it, I’m sure we can squeeze in a childless night.”

Mrs. Jeon chuckles before ending the call, but not before one more reminder about inviting you over to dinner sometime soon.

Jungkook laughs to himself as he pulls into his driveway. Like clockwork, Mai’s school bus arrives at the corner. He steps out and waves to the bus driver when they drive off before Mai comes running down the sidewalk and into his arms.

“Hey, dad!” She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing the cheek he purposefully puffed out for her.

“You’re getting big, bean,” he groans, faking a backache after setting her down. He rests his hand atop her head, hanging her backpack for her before they trail into the kitchen.

“Your muscles aren’t so strong anymore then,” Mai quips, tossing a quick shoulder shrug her dad’s way when he turns back from the refrigerator to glare at her.

“Smart-alec,” he mutters, tossing a small tangerine at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at him, screeching when he makes a run for her. With several feet of height on his daughter, Jungkook snatches her in no time, throwing her over his shoulder, tattooed fingers tickling her sides.

Jovial screams and giggles leap out of the little girl until he tosses her on the sofa, her dark hair a wild mess and cheeks red, “not fair dad, you’re still bigger,” she pouts suddenly. Jungkook leans over the couch, laughing while swiping Mai’s hair out of her face, pinching her cheek in the process, “what do you want to eat for dinner, kid? Ordering in tonight.”

Mai jumps up in excitement, shouting your name.

He laughs, pulling his phone out to peruse a menu to order from, “not tonight- I have a work dinner, so you’ll be-”

“Not a babysitter-dad!” Mai whines, stomping her feet toward him, “I don’t want a babysitter, they aren’t fun.”

He shrugs, taking her chin in his hand and squeezing it, “sorry babe, she’s busy tonight.”

“Fine, whatever,” Mai turns in one swift motion and disappears into the den, homework in hand. 

Jungkook groans with a slight curl to his lip, “yah, whatever…” he says to himself, wondering when his 7-year-old became a teenager.

With aching feet and a dull throbbing in your head, you sit at the breakfast nook in silence, swallowed up in the pleasant darkness of your apartment.

“Is it time to retire yet?” You want to cry like a baby, be coddled like one, rocked to sleep. 

Just then a ding from your phone pulls you from your minute misery; a text message.

[Mark]: Okay, I’m going to level with you, should I stop trying? This is the third time in the last two weeks you’ve canceled our date…

You purse your lips, re-reading Mark’s message while the conversation you had with Jungkook weeks ago looms in the back of your mind.

‘Always something wrong with every guy you date…’

You shake your head; that’s not true. Mark is a very sweet guy. He is kind of introverted in a big group but alone, he’s all about you. He treats you well and as much as Jungkook wants to tease you about it - Mark is not a bad kisser.

But…

You sigh as you tap away at the keyboard.

[You]: I’m sorry Mark…as you can see, I’m not great at being forthcoming…or communicating.

[Mark]: no, what??

Haha come on I’m an adult, I can handle rejection :’)

You smile, warmed by Mark’s playful attitude.

[You]: Is it worse if I say that you are a great friend? Because you really are.

[Mark]: Oo yeah, that hurts a little but you’re good, I’ll find some way to get over you..

[You]: Don’t make it worse >< seriously Mark, you’ve been good to me these last few months, it’s nothing personal.

[Mark]: you deserve it and I’m sure the guy knows it already

Your eyes widen.

[You]: Sorry.. what are you talking about?

[Mark]: Come on I’m not stupid either haha every time we were together and that kid called or her dad, you dropped everything to talk to them. Rubbing salt in my wound here, but didn’t you leave our date once to be with her?

Oh, that guy.

[You]: Right…He’s my best friend…and his daughter I mean yeah, I would do anything for her. So I can’t apologize for that, but this is even more proof that you are a great guy!

[Mark]: hahaha, ok I got it, I have to say this is the least demoralizing way any woman has rejected me before

[You]: You’re welcome? Haha. Good night (:

It couldn’t have gone any better, the guilt over Mark that settled in your stomach was now gone, but you couldn’t figure out why it didn’t make you feel better.

Mark is smart but he was wrong. Well…maybe answering Mai’s phone call that one night, while you and Mark were making out on his couch, was a bit excessive? You cringe at the thought…

Peeling yourself from those memories and the barstool proves easier when your incentive is to no longer question what everyone around you seems to have common knowledge of. Pouring water into a steel pot, you set it on the stove to boil for some ramen.

Not long after your meal is done your phone rings with the Jeons’ home number flashing across the screen; “Bean?” You answer, knowing it’s Mai since Jungkook only calls you from his cell phone.

You are greeted with an exasperated huff before she whispers harshly into the phone, “why didn’t you come watch me tonight?”

Choosing to eat straight from the pot because it was one of those days, you bring it into the living room, a grimace on your face, “my sincerest apologies kid. I told your dad I’d be busy with work since we’re all going on vacation soon.”

“Oh, well, I don’t like this babysitter, she treats me like a little kid,” you almost choke on your first bite of noodles, stifling a laugh at Mai’s dispense.

“Okay one - you are a kid and two - be nice, three - where is your dad?”

Mai scoffs with gusto into the phone, “work dinner,” she exasperates, “dad thinks I’m a dummy, I know he’s on a date.”

Your heart drops and with it goes your appetite, setting the half-eaten food down on your coffee table. You move the phone away for a moment, allowing yourself a second to let out a long breath before continuing, “how do you know that, you know your dad is a busy guy, he goes on plenty of work dinners.”

“Hm- again I’m smart, dad says he is going on company dinners when it’s actually with work people,” Mai’s tone is flippant, “but when it’s a date? He calls them ‘work dinners.’”

“Oh right,” you curse yourself for having this adult conversation with a child, “duh.”

Mai laughs, “dad has been going on a lot of work dinners-”

You clam your eyes shut, “y-you know what bean, I’m sorry but I’m exhausted- are you in any immediate danger that requires me to come over there?

“No,” Mai sighs with obvious disappointment, “I guess not.”

Even with the unsettling of your heart, Mai always manages to melt you to your core, “you sure?”

“Dad would be mad if I made you come here, I’m okay, I just miss you I guess,” her voice suddenly drops, and the little kid is back. The innocence you love so much about her pulls you in.

“I miss you too,” you say, “but hey- the cruise is coming up soon, okay? You’ll have your grandparents, your dad-”

“And you, duh,” she adds.

You shake your head, chuckling, “and me.”

After talking her through her irritation and simply missing the two people that are her entire world, Mai hangs up a little more satisfied.

You? You call it an early night, ignoring the dreaded feeling hanging from your heartstrings.

You aren’t sure how to feel once you wake up on the first day of vacation. Having lost sleep over the last week while bitterly packing for the cruise, you thought up several ways you could have canceled before getting to this day. Picking up your phone on several occasions to text Jungkook only to picture Mai’s disappointment. She likely would have shed a tear or two at your expense.

Finally the night before, you swallowed back your pride and zipped up your packed suitcase which was now sitting in the back of Jungkook’s trunk with the rest of their things. He and Mai sang along to a song while you tapped your hand against your leg, unable to keep the smile away from your face for long.

Mrs. Jeon greets you eagerly after smothering Mai in kisses, taking the three of you ahead as you enter the ship.

“Home for the next week,” Jungkook comes up from behind and puts his arm around you, pressing his palm into Mai’s hair and messing with it while she tries to fight him off. You move away from him and walk towards the elevators, “shall we settle in our rooms?”

Mai is the first to react, running toward you and grabbing your hand in the process before the rest follow.

Once in the rooms with Jungkook’s parents only a few doors down from your suite, Mai pops in and out of the door connecting your room to theirs, “we can have sleepovers every night!” She cheers.

You shake your head, laughing at her excitement while still taking it all in yourself. Jungkook comes in from your balcony, pressing two fingers against Mai’s forehead when she goes throttling toward him, “relax monster,” he chuckles, “and not every night, okay?”

“Okay, but at least when you go on work dinners,” Mai peers passed Jungkook’s hip at you making a face too devilish for a child, “I can sleep in her room?”

You’re glad the bed is there to catch you when you sit back. Jungkook gently pushes her head back, laughing, “we’ll see.”

You have to swallow back that all too familiar sickness, “come on Kook, it’s vacation.” Mai leaps forward with a toothy smile, “yeah dad, vacation!” She shouts, wrapping her arms around Jungkook’s legs. 

You watch the two of them dance around your room, Mai standing on top of Jungkook’s feet while they tease each other; “duck feet,” Mai says, proceeding to quack at her father.

“Do you uh- you have to work while we’re here?” You ask Jungkook. He sticks his bottom lip out and shakes his head, “nope, just one brunch with a few colleagues but that’s it.”

You despise the relief that immediately washes over you.

Switching into vacation mode proves a lot easier than you anticipated, given the new information Mai shared with you during that one phone call. You hate to admit it to yourself, but seeing Jungkook stick around for the first couple of days provides relief for you that he is in fact, not going on any work dinners this trip.

Shut up shut up shut UP…

Your thoughts eat away at your brain while you sit poolside, taking a break from carrying Mai around on your shoulders like a mermaid - per her request. You were her throne and she, the mermaid princess of an undersea world, Jungkook the villainous merman out to seek her crown. After a victorious battle against said merman, you urge Mai to continue playing with her dad because being the throne is a weighty job.

Watching them is almost better.

Like a shooting star, a smile beams across your face, sitting back to hold yourself together, barking with laughter when Jungkook throws Mai into the air. A shriek of excitement falls out of her until she lands safely in a big splash.

Jungkook raptures you as you look over to find his head tossed back, perfect teeth showing as he laughs with every part of his being - eyes closed, the only visible part of his face is the utter joy he is feeling.

Your heart beats faster, cheeks grow hotter but not from the sun. Like the kind of gasp that escapes you during a jump scare in a horror movie, a memory locked so deep floods your head. You lower the brim of your hat to hide the immediate tears that flood your eyes, relieved to see Jungkook and Mai continue to chase each other around the pool, making waves while splashing one another.

It was a long day, Jungkook enlisted your help with a colicky baby Mai in need. You read up on as many articles as you could before heading over to their place, finding him in a panic though he was trying to repress it for the time being.

With much effort on both ends, Mai was finally asleep after hours of fussing. Jungkook, desperate for his daughter’s relief to the point of tears, you decided to leave them alone in his bedroom while you claimed a spot on the couch. 

Waking up hours later, the sun is long gone. You head to his bedroom to say goodbye.

The door is still open and you find Jungkook lying on his side with his back to you, instead of sleeping like you initially assumed, he is humming. One hand rests under his head while the other moves in an up-and-down motion. You stand on your tiptoes and see Mai is still asleep, laid out on her back with her limbs sticking out, you cover your mouth to stifle a chuckle.

She looks angelic - long eyelashes tickling the tops of her chubby cheeks, you can even hear her heavy breathing beyond Jungkook’s soft hum.

“Is it possible to be this in love?” His voice captures your ears but it’s a welcomed sound. You can’t see his face but you’re sure he’s near to tears for the second time that day. Pushing off of the wall, you walk to the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes dart to you, dropping his head, silently laughing at himself.

You pat his ankle, a chummy smile covering your face only to tease him, “I’m heading home, will you two be okay?”

He looks back at Mai before nodding, “thank you,” he sighs before moving out of bed but you try to stop him, assuring him that you can make it to the door in one piece.

“When do I ever let you walk out alone?” He whispers, kissing Mai’s cheek before carefully moving off the bed. He follows you to the front door. When you turn to wish him and Mai a full night’s rest, he swallows you in a hug. You stand stiff for a moment, unable to recall if this was something that had ever occurred before. You weren’t the bear-hugging type of friend.

Even more, you can feel your heart thrum against Jungkook’s and suddenly it becomes natural as you melt into his hold. You wrap your arms around his middle to which he pulls you closer and tighter.

Eyes closed, the feeling of being in his arms is overwhelming and cheesy as it all feels, you have to will the tears away as a rush of feelings come flooding over you. Every over-thought you’d wondered up to this moment is answered.

‘Am I falling for him? No…wait.

Do I love my best friend?’

“We love you,” Jungkook says close to your ear, shaking you from your thoughts, but with them are the crackings of your heart, “I don’t say that enough,” he adds. He finally releases you and you have to pull yourself together in a second.

“Jungkook, I told you I’d be here for you and Mai- no question.” You manage to say, clearing your throat.

Walking away from his house that night, you know for you, it’s all changed.

A shrill cry of your name jolts you awake, cold water splashing your midriff. Your eyes focus back and on Mai who is now sitting on Jungkook’s shoulders, “let’s race,” she says. Without hesitance you jump in after them, pulling a giggling Mai into the pool with you who begs for mercy.

After a warm shower, sleep proves victor over the book Mai begged hands and knees for you to read, but by the time you washed up and changed into fresh pajamas, Mai’s face was planted into Jungkook’s pillow, hair splayed across the white pillowcase.

Jungkook hears you chuckle from his place on the balcony. Turning to look over his shoulder just as you kiss Mai’s head, a gentle flutter in his chest mimics the rocking of the ship.

“She’s going to need an entire week to recuperate after this trip,” you come out and sit on the bench with him, drawing your legs up and holding them to your chest. Jungkook’s silence makes you curious, but when you look over, the look on his face tells you why.

Brows are set straight with his arms crossed in front of his chest, you can see every thought that's running through his mind. Instead of pegging him with a question, you tap his leg with your foot. He takes a sharp breath in, laughing at himself when he looks at you.

“I was just thinking,” he groans, moving forward to rest his face in his hands. Your heart crawls out of your chest in search of a way to soothe your best friend, yet all the same, you just want to hold him.

“I was just thinking…” he sighs with a shrug, “back when I was twenty-one, convinced I was this big hotshot with a realtor’s license and brand new BMW,” he laughs in shame, “ah- then all of a sudden there’s a helpless baby who I had no time to prepare for.”

You remember that time with him; recalling the day Jungkook called you to his then apartment, voice too shaken to explain why he needed you there as he returned a missed call from the local hospital. Of course, your mind assumed he was diagnosed with some kind of illness. 

But with the call on speaker, you watched the color drain from his face as child protective services spoke to him on the other end. Words are thrown around like fireballs- ‘your name was put on the birth certificate by her birth mother Mr. Jeon…a DNA test has been ordered so we will need you to come down to the clinic to complete it. For now, the infant will be placed with our services upon release from the hospital.’

‘No,’ he was quick to respond, ‘no-don’t do that please, I’ll bring her home. Can-can I bring her home?’

“You didn’t need that test to prove what you already knew,” you add, watching the way your best friend runs his hands back and forth through his hair. 

He took the test anyway and it was of course confirmed that Mai was his; “when you called me over, I couldn’t imagine what they would say and that was definitely the farthest thing from my mind.”

“Wouldn’t change it for the world now that I know I’m a capable dad but-” his confidence drops and you sit forward, bending your head until you can see his face.

“But what?” You ask.

“Any chance at falling in love is out the window-” you can hear the guilt in his voice when he says that. He sits back and you follow, keeping your eyes on him. He chuckles with a crooked grin, “what?”

“Why do you do that? It doesn’t hurt you?”

He sighs, looking back at the water, “it’s easier, isn’t it? Sleeping around rather than risking a broken heart?”

“Jungkook, Mai’s mother-she was foolish for leaving you and even more for leaving Mai-I mean let’s not forget she, herself never even told you about your child in the first place-”

“Yeah but I’m still an idiot for even going there with her, I knew all she wanted was something casual and I gave it to her just so I could feel something.” He shakes his head.

“But one really good thing came out of that, right?” You push, taking your fingers and nudging his chin to force a smile on his face. 

He doesn’t argue, thinking of the little girl that is sound asleep inside.

A quiet hum settles inside of your chest drawing Jungkook to look at you. Your eyes set on the moonlight reflecting against the water; “I love your kid Jungkook.”

Just looking at your smile when you turn to face him, it’s a sight that nestles deep inside of his chest; “I already did before you even brought her home but I swear, my heart almost can’t take how much I love Mai.”

The gentle rock of the boat begins to lull you into sleep; chilly ocean air creates goosebumps over your skin as you fight your eyes rolling back, your breathing slows as a content hum comes out of you. Jungkook watches you for a moment, noticing the slight chatter in your teeth that pulls a giggle from him, “come here.”

Your heavy eyelids open to look at him, blinking inquisitively as he brings you closer to him. “I’m trying to warm you up,” he chuckles with another tug of your hand. He scoots down to rest his head along the sofa so you can lay your head comfortably on his shoulder; Jungkook’s body heat is all you need to fully accept his invitation.

“Just so you know,” he clears his throat, “because I know how my kid is,” Jungkook’s voice sounds like a subtle purr, “she loves you too.”

Caught in a haze of exhaustion and more emotion than your heart can handle, you nuzzle against Jungkook’s shoulder, willing yourself to fall asleep with those sentiments in mind. 

On the cusp of a deep sleep, you swear you feel Jungkook press his lips to the top of your head as he carries you off into the room.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re immediately aware this is not your bed though it isn’t entirely unfamiliar. Your heart launches in your throat as you sit up on your elbows, eyes pressed shut.

Okay now!

They pop open, your initial concern to find Jungkook lying there settles when you see Mai at your side. Her long raven hair strung across her face. 

A snore causes you to jump; awakened by his snore, Jungkook looks at you with one eye open, his body contorted to the size of the narrow cot meant for Mai. His feet dangling off the edge.

“You could have slept in my bed,” you snort.

He sits up, the sheet falling off to reveal his rippled chest and abs. You’ve seen his muscles several times, but the setting is far too intimate this time. You have to look away, pulling Mai’s hair off of her face. Jungkook stands and stretches, “it was nice falling asleep to you guys’ breathing- peaceful,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.

The days go by too fast. Each one was filled with various activities tailored to Mai as she enjoyed the time with her grandparents. On several occasions, she couldn’t help but announce how happy she was to have her favorite people with her all at the same time.

Although, on the second to last night, you fail to ignore when Jungkook doesn’t return from that brunch as soon as he assured Mai he would, showing up early in the evening sans tie and a fresh mark on the side of his neck.

He comes lazily into your room after a shower, greeted by Mai with open arms, “where were you?” She asks, pressing her face into his side.

“I’m sorry.” His answer is short and hardly an answer. You turn away to hide your disappointment, closing the coloring book Mai was using and putting away her crayons; “your parents said you had unexpected business come up after brunch?” You ask.

He looks at you and nods.

Liar.

“But look bean,” he picks Mai up, conveniently placing her where she can’t point out the hickey, “you’re going to dinner alone with grandma and grandpa tonight, okay?” Mai throws her head back, “you’re abandoning me again?”

You can’t help but laugh, curiosity pushing away the heaviness in your chest, “wait, why?”

Jungkook looks at Mai, “cover your ears.”

“But-”

He curls an eyebrow at her and with a loud scoff, she does as he says.

“They want us to have a night out. We can go to the club downstairs - dancing and drinks?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You shake your head, laughing while your resolve not to give in slips away, “I have a dress that deserves to be seen, might as well.”

While Jungkook spends the last few hours of daylight with Mai, you don’t waste any time and get ready. It isn’t often you can pamper yourself like this; hair laid sleek against your back, taking time on your makeup to ensure its lasting quality because you plan to dance away the troubles of your heart.

Just as you buckle the other strap to your heel, there’s a knock at the main door of your room. You peer into Jungkook and Mai’s room through the connecting door which has remained open the majority of the trip, remembering he left just a few minutes before to drop Mai off at his parents’ room.

You open it without much thought, stumbling back when you come face to face with your best friend. He catches you by the wrist, chuckling.

His hair is combed with an effortless side part, thick bangs swept on either side of his forehead. His patterned buttoned-down stands out though the short sleeves allow his tattoos to be on display. White slacks and a new pair of shoes adorn his lower half while a touch of gold jewelry ties it all together. Pushing your figurative tongue back into your mouth, you offer a simple compliment before stepping out.

Going unnoticed is the way Jungkook’s eyes slink over your figure, selfishly detailing in his memory how your dress fits you in all the right places.

“Hurry up slowpoke,” you call to him, already halfway down the hallway. He looks at you, wondering if you’ve caught him staring. You choose to turn away before he can see the smirk on your face.

Music booms around you while a colorful group of people aged from 21 to 90 fills the space for a final night of hoorah as you settle at the bar. Your feet are already aching after Jungkook pulled you straight onto the dance floor when you initially arrived. Having clubbed with him on many occasions, you aren’t surprised by his rhythm and ease in gyrating his hips to the music. Perhaps a little closer to you than you are used to, but you’ll allow a pass tonight. And really, are you complaining?

No. But you choose to ignore that voice in your head.

Jungkook is looking around until he finds your eyes. You blink, clearing your throat, “I have a confession.” He scoots in closer so he can hear you better, eyes dropping to meet yours. Stirring in his seat, you wonder if he’s fidgeting out of discomfort.

Liquid courage pushes you to continue, “I broke into my minibar and had a little pre-game before you came,” you admit. Jungkook drops his head and laughs at you again. His eyes squint beneath a beaming smile, you practically choke at how beautiful he looks, “y-you might have to carry me back to my room later.” Your tongue suddenly feels numb as you stumble over your words.

He nods, “you deserve to let loose,” his expression takes on more sincerity, “you do so much for me and Mai.”

If not for the mood lighting flashing in various colors, you swear Jungkook’s face is flushed. His blinks are slow and you wonder when he’ll stop looking at you like that-

“Here you are.” The bartender barrages in with your drinks. You jump slightly while Jungkook thanks the man, a straight line forming his lips.

After two shots and another finished drink, Jungkook is ready to dance into the wee hours of the morning. Head caught in a constant loop after those shots, you insist he goes on his own. Just then a woman’s voice appears close to your ear, causing you to jump back. Jungkook looks to where you are with some sort of a smile appearing on his face but you can hardly make it out through a hazy gaze.

He’s saying your name and you make every effort to concentrate, “this is my colleague, Rosie.”

Rosie smiles at you but you notice more the way her hands are wrapped around Jungkook’s bicep and then the way she moves her hand to smooth across his shoulders, tucking her fingers beneath his collar.

Rosie from brunch. You smile, “nice to meet you.” You can’t help when your eyes ghost over the mark on Jungkook’s neck once more, the one you’ve had to pretend wasn’t there the entire night.

“Likewise,” she hardly spares you a second look before her eyes are glued to Jungkook’s, “let’s go dance.”

Jungkook sets his attention on you when you stand, making it a point to plant your feet firmly on the ground, “go, I need to use the restroom.”

Rosie wastes no time and pulls Jungkook away.

You groan, staring at yourself in the mirror, eyes weighed down with one too many drinks though you’re still able to stand on your own. That deserves a pat on the back along with your determination to not allow this night to go sour as you make your way out to the dance floor once more.

But it all comes to a screeching halt when you spot Rosie and Jungkook, even more, the way his lips hover dangerously close over the skin of her neck, his hand smoothing over her waist. Their bodies are pressed together as they dance with not an inch of breathing space to spare between the two.

You can’t help the fire that rages through you though tears sting your eyes. Before he can see, given he even looks up for one minute, you make a desperate escape towards the exit.

Stupid..so stupid. Stupid on a monumental level. What did you think was going to happen-he’d magically fall in love with you on this trip? Yes…NO.

You sniffle as you rub the heels of your feet, skin red from the pain inflicted by your choice of footwear. Even after a long shower, scrubbing the black makeup off your eyes that melted onto the bags that are now present - you can’t shake the aching in your chest.

“Ugh,” you groan, tossing yourself back onto your bed. Hair still sopping wet from your shower and dressed in your comfiest pajamas, nothing could soothe you at this point. Mind still swimming in a drunken state, you wish you could just black out already.

Click.

The door to Jungkook and Mai’s room closes. You shoot up into a sitting position once more, immediately regretting that. Jungkook peers in through that middle door, chuckling at you and a little less drunk than you. He always held his liquor better than you did.

That fire flickers in you once more, so slight but it causes you to twitch. You can’t un-notice it, even when you look away for a moment while he moves over to you. His hair is a mess, shirt hastily buttoned, and the collar is tinted pink, not to mention the faded lipstick marks around his jaw. He steps any closer to you and you could name the brand of perfume she was wearing.

“Club closed like two hours ago,” your words are still a bit slurred. Jungkook just chuckles, “yeah, I’m beat.” You shake your head while he moves back in the direction of his room.

“Old habits die hard,” you mutter venomously.

Jungkook cocks his head, taken aback, “what?”

You straighten your shoulders when he looks at you, “are you really going to risk putting yourself in this same situation again? Just for a one-night stand? Have you forgotten how Mai came into the picture?” The deep frown on your face is hardly enough to hide how you swallow back the gasp following your accusation. The dagger you’ve pierced him with digs into his back while a crushing pain swallows him whole, you can see the crumbling beneath your best friend’s eyes.

His cheeks grow red when he turns back towards the door, “go to sleep,” he mumbles in a tone that has the ground shaking, tossing his room key to the side, “you’re drunk.”

You flinch when he slams the door shut.

The swaying of the boat doesn’t help the unsettling waves in your stomach and throbbing head. Even with the new presence of another person on the balcony, your head remains cradled in your hands.

“Here,” Jungkook says in a low tone but it still makes your head throb. He reaches out to you with a water bottle in hand, “and take these.”

You peer up, the torturous rays of the sun hurt your eyes. You shake your head. Jungkook smacks his tongue in disapproval, taking up the bottom space of the lounging chair you're sitting on. He opens the bottle for you and brings it up to your lips, “stubbornness won’t make you feel better, drink.”

“Oh god, please don’t say that word,” you retch, taking a sip. Another second later Jungkook pops the two aspirin into your mouth, assisting you with another swig of water.

The rushing waves settle around you but the awkward silence can be cut with the dagger Jungkook was still holding onto. He sighs, looking away from the wooden deck of the balcony.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk before,” he says. The strained laughter that follows makes your chest grow hot along with the heaviness in his tone.

You feel his gaze fall over you and you finally look up at him, removing your sunglasses. He doesn’t tear his attention away from you, waiting to see if you’ll do anything, say anything.

“Do you remember-”

You’re nodding before he can finish his sentence, “I remember what I said.” You wish you didn’t, probably even more than Jungkook wishes he never heard it.

Jungkook sits there a little bit stunned, straightening his back and you can see the frown grow on his brow, “not that I owe you any explanation - I didn’t sleep with her, we just - I don’t know I just couldn’t-”

You question him with your eyes, “you’re right Jungkook, you don’t need to explain anything to me, we’re both adults.” You cut him off before it can hurt anymore, irritation lining your tone which Jungkook picks up on the latter. Somehow he still misses the longing behind your eyes.

“How about some leniency? I’m trying to be nice even though you insulted me last night-”

“You don’t have to be nice to me, I was out of line so let’s just drop it. I’m sorry for ever saying anything-”

“Will you let me care about you?” He snaps back. It catches you off guard, even when he’s been angry in the past, he’s never snapped at anybody. But the shock isn’t enough to stop you from feeling angry too.

“What are you talking-if this is you caring about me then please, spare me. I mean y-you came back to the room like nothing-” you groan out of frustration, swinging your legs over the lounge chair to stand up. The uneven weight nearly sends Jungkook to the ground but he manages to catch himself.

“Like nothing-what?” Jungkook follows you into your room.

“Nothing Jungkook, nothing happened, that’s what I mean. And you know what, nothing is ever going to happen,” you mutter, tossing clothes into your opened suitcase.

He grasps for the words falling from your mouth, managing to hear every last one, “what do you mean?”

You shake your head, “look let’s just give each other space, yeah? We only have today left so let me just do what you brought me here to do - let me do what I do best apparently.”

The riddled expression on his face only makes you grow more impatient for him to leave you alone; “that’s why I’m here right Jungkook - to take care of Mai while you rendezvous? I’m just a babysitter for Mai - that’s all I’ve ever been to you since she was born, right?”

His eyes grow cold while your words only chip away at him more and more, “you’re my best friend, I invited you to come because you’re like family-”

“Oh, just stop!” You twist pieces of your clothing between angry fists, “stop doing this to me-stop saying those things to me, stop cuddling with me like we’re-we-” you’re sputtering on the edge of stone-cold tears, “you just-you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Then tell me,” he urges you, “for God’s sake talk to me instead of pushing me away-”

“Jungkook, I love you,” you cry desperately, your body sinking, “I-I love you, and I can’t do it anymore.” You collapse onto the edge of your bed, praying the tears will go away so you can get a coherent thought out, shaking your head.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook.” You weep quietly.

All he can do is whisper your name to break the deafening silence.

“Just leave,” you look at him with red, tear-filled eyes, “please.”

“But we should talk-”

“I won’t do this anymore…I just can’t,” you can’t stop crying, “please leave.”

There isn’t anything more heart-breaking than when the door shuts behind your best friend, you are left alone to steep in the figurative mess left around you. A storm rages your mind while tear after tear continues to fall, even when you occupy yourself with stuffing everything into your suitcase. Some hours pass when you’re still in your room, suitcase packed. You can hear Mai enter their room, voice muffled behind the closed door she was so used to being open.

Follows is a stern call of her name from Jungkook just before the doorknob turns but abruptly stops along with your heart. You can hear her asking him why before you assume he pulls her away from the door.

You force your eyes shut, pressing your tear-stained face into your pillow and praying the last day on this god-awful ship will magically be over when you open your eyes again. Body exhausted from the emotional day, you feel yourself sink into darkness until all subconscious thought disappears.

It was a fight to get Mai to understand why you weren’t going home with them the next morning. You never lied to her. Not once in all of these years. Not until today when you told her it had to do with work, that was why. She slumped into her grandma’s hug before going over to the car per Jungkook’s request who was standing near you.

“Jungkook, I just want to go home and I already called an Uber so-”

He just nods but you can see the hurt in his eyes, “will you text me-us? Text us when you get home?”

You look down at your phone, “I-um- I need to go over to the waiting area where I’ll be picked up, thanks for inviting me.” With that, you’re turning away before he can even breathe a second time. Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from you, watching you walk away, wanting to watch you until you're a speck in the distance.

“Mai is buckled in Jungkook-ah.” His dad calls him away before he can do any of that.

His thoughts spiral on the drive back home.

‘I can’t do this anymore…I won’t do this.’ Your words play like a broken movie reel in his mind. A sick feeling settles in Jungkook’s stomach; a strong taste of bile rises in his throat as he wonders if you mean it.

The days following begin to fuse into the next before you realize two weeks have gone by. Two weeks of missed phone calls from Jungkook but even more painful are the missed calls from their house phone.

Mai.

You have to hold your stomach every time you think of Mai. The innocent one caught between two adults she thinks the world of, the only two who are her entire world. It’s enough to make you want to lose all contents of your stomach which hasn’t been much lately. Getting by on a couple of sips from your morning tea and a bite or two of unbuttered sourdough bread before heading off to work.

Everything has lost its taste, life as you know it has lost flavor.

You always enjoyed work, as stressful as it could be at times. But it was becoming your mute therapist because you couldn’t talk about the things warring your mind. They just bottled inside of you, one after the other; when would it finally implode?  

Three knocks sound at your front door and you jump away from the counter, a small plate with a sad sandwich placed on top of it. You abandon it, you’re sure the bread is starting to mold anyway. Poking your head around the corner, your eyes are wide as they stare down the narrow hallway. The runner in the center of the floor is left askew, shoes tossed under the hallway table cluttered with your keys and three days of mail; everything is left unopened.

The doorbell screeches like a hungry crow; you yelp a curse before clamping your hand over your mouth. There’s no way he has the gull to show up at your house…

A muffled call of your name sounds on the other side of the door followed by rapid presses of the doorbell.

It’s Nic.

You sigh, moving down the hallway as quickly as you can before tearing the door open. Nic stands there with her arm up, her hand fisted ready to knock on the door, “well, hello stranger!” Her voice is laced with sarcasm and a toothy smile to boot. She’s already setting her things down on the small breakfast nook that separates the kitchen from the living room, she follows your every move until you’re standing on the opposite side of the counter, a waiting expression sits on her face.

“Wine?” She asks. You’re impressed when she pulls a long bottle out of her purse, something like Mary Poppins would do if she wasn’t so cheerful.

You shake your head, pushing the bottle back into her bag, “I’m cutting myself off forever.”

“Ah,” she nods knowingly and it’s confirmation enough that she is aware of the revelation that occurred on the cruise. You know he called her and asked her to check on you.

You lean onto the counter and Nic does the same after propping herself up on a barstool, “he sent you,” you state rather than ask. You know your best friends through and through. And beneath your broken pride and splitting heart, you can admit that they know you just the same.

Instead of a joke, she just purses her lips and offers you an apologetic smile, “he did.”

You shrug, resting your hand under your chin. The two of you continue in a stare-off that holds a thousand words between your shaking eyes and Nic’s patient ones. She doesn’t press you like you’re used to, but perhaps that’s because she can see the sheen across your eyes or the way you keep swallowing back the lump in your throat.

Nic, opinionated in all her ways and always managing to impose them on the ones she holds near and dear, bites her bottom lip when you close your eyes only for a few tears to fall shortly after.

She clears her throat, pressing a tissue into your hand while your head hangs low; “you should talk to him, babe.”

You’re shaking your head and Nic sighs, biting back her words until you pick your head up to look at her. 

She’s careful but direct; “So that’s it, you just cut him off? For how long are you planning on doing that - for forever?” Nic knows how ridiculous that sounds. Even more than when you swore you would take your once secret love for Jungkook to the grave.

“That’s the plan,” you croak, pressing the tissue over your eyes so it can soak up your tears.

“And Mai?” Nic retorts.

Your hands drop onto the counter along with your stomach; there’s no answer for that.

“Custody isn’t necessarily a thing between friends-”

“Nic,” you give her a stern look and she apologizes.

“Look, you don’t need me to say this because I know you, and I know how much you love Mai,” Nic’s tone sounds desperate for you to hear her, “but I’m going to say it anyway - I get seeing him and talking to him sounds incredibly painful, but are you really willing to lose that little girl’s trust? I mean anyone can see that she worships the ground you walk on,” Nic can’t help but chuckle but her seriousness never fades, “if you decide never to talk to them again, that-” Nic pushes her pointer finger onto the countertop, “that will be excruciating for her…” The second to pause allows you to feel the final crushing of your heart before Nic finishes.

“You can’t make this choice for her and not be in her life all of a sudden just because you want to run away from reality - Mai is just as much in this painful reality with you and Jungkook.”

You hate how right she is. You hate that Nic has taken every single word out of your mouth and made sense of it.

The sun is setting over the city as Jungkook continues to stare out the window of his office. It’s the end of a long workday. He’s tired after showing several houses from one end of the boulevard to the other. His feet hurt, his neck is aching, and he’s sick of wearing this stupid suit.

But he can’t think of anything else. He can’t think of anyone else. All he can think about is you. Sick with worry about his daughter who has no understanding of what’s happened. She’s asked to sleep with him every night for the past two weeks, it was the only thing that could soothe her anxiety. He wanted to be mad at you for cutting Mai off. Himself, he could understand, but Mai? Then again, he wondered how much he was to blame too. Did he unintentionally put his daughter in this spot? Going out with a different woman at least a few nights a week, asking you to babysit Mai every time? If he had just been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.

He scoffs at himself, ripping his tie from around his neck and tossing it onto his desk. Of course, idiot, if you just confessed years ago, this wouldn’t be happening. Mai wouldn’t be experiencing her first heartbreak at seven years old. Selfishly, he wouldn’t have had to see the hurt that split you right down the middle when he waltzed in that night covered in another woman’s touch.

All the times you saw him that way.

Idiot. He has to laugh. Idiot doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Hi baby,” Jungkook sweeps Mai into his arms when he finally arrives home, relieving the babysitter. Mai rests her head on his shoulder, pressing the moles she can see on his face with her finger. He’s not used to her being so quiet. 

It’s late; way past her bedtime.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Mai sighs into his shoulder.

“I know,” he rubs her back, walking into her bedroom. Maybe she could manage it tonight. Mai doesn’t fight it, climbing under her comforter when Jungkook pulls it back for her. He sits on the floor next to her bed, knees curled up to his chest, he looks back at Mai whose eyes glisten under the glow of the starry night light, “guess we need to talk, huh?” She asks.

Jungkook chuckles, pinching her cheek, “shoot.”

Mai’s eyelashes flutter when she looks away, “she always has dinner with us on Sundays,” she starts, “is she mad at me?”

Jungkook is quick to settle her disquieting thoughts, “never in a million years bud, she could never be upset with you.”

“Then why isn’t she coming over to see me?” Mai isn’t crying, but her eyes look back at Jungkook and he can feel a tear in his heart when she does.

He sighs, holding Mai’s hand inside of his; “I hurt her feelings, so I think seeing you makes it hard for her because I’m always with you, right?”

Mai nods, “So say you’re sorry dad.”

He muffles a laugh, “it’s not that easy for adults sometimes.”

“Why? Don’t you miss her too?”

“I do,” he admits, “and I care a lot about her too.” Jungkook says, eying Mai, searching for the right words before he continues, “do you know what that means, bean?” He rests his chin on top of his hand, stroking her hair away from her face with the other. Mai observes her dad, hands pressed underneath her cheek.

“Grandma says when you care about people, it means you love them, so-” she twitches her nose inquisitively and Jungkook can’t help but giggle, leaning in to pinch it, “ask me questions,” he says, helping her out.

Mai yawns, not too far from sleep. But Jungkook can’t resist this time before bed, when his daughter is on the precipice of sweet slumber and they are alone, talking about whatever. Most of the time they are teasing each other, but if Mai has spent the day with you, Jungkook especially wanted to hear about it.

“I guess, does it mean you love her like you love me?” Mai asks.

The corner of his lips quirk into a smile, “I love you more than you can ever know-” he stops to catch the twinkle in his daughter’s eye, “but this love is a little bit different.”

Mai nods and follows with a big yawn. Jungkook leans in once more to kiss her forehead, “sleep tight.”

“I won’t let the bedbugs bite,” May yawns again.

Before Jungkook steps out of her room, Mai squeaks, “dad?”

“Yeah?” He turns in a heartbeat.

“I love her too, and well you know how the other kids at school-well most kids have their moms you know?”

He can feel the final shattering inside of him when he goes to rub his chest. Jungkook moves in, sitting next to Mai when she sits up, “I feel like I love her how a kid is supposed to love their mom-like she is the very best friend I will ever get to have, dad,” Mai looks up at him, “if she is mad at you, please make it better because I think we need her for forever.”

Tears brim the outside of Jungkook’s eyes, his smile trembling when he stares down at his literal heart in the shape of his child; “I love you so much,” he pulls her into his lap where Mai finds solace hiding her face in his shoulder.

“But my friend at school can never know that, it would hurt her feelings,” Mai muffles against him. Jungkook manages a gentle laugh, pressing a long kiss to the top of Mai’s head, his tears going unnoticed by his daughter.

The last time you received a call from Mai’s school was a year ago, she pushed a boy who tried to put a dead lizard on top of her head. He fell back and scraped his elbow. Mai was not about to let the school call her dad.

‘He won’t be as mad if you’re with me!’ She insisted, holding her hand in yours as the two of you crossed the street, a detention slip in her other hand.

Listed as the third emergency contact under her grandma, your stomach churns, wondering why they would be calling you. There is no question whether you would answer or not.

“Hello?” You breathe slowly into the phone.

The woman on the other end informs you she’s the principal; “Mai’s father and grandma haven’t returned our calls; the kids had an early release today but it appears they have forgotten to pick her up, and the buses have all gone.”

You frown, they never forget to pick Mai up from school. And if either one couldn’t, you were the next in line if she wasn’t going to take the bus; “oh-uh okay, I-um-I can be there in-” you look at the clock above your desk, ignoring the incomplete work before you, “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

You rush around the room to gather your things, darting for the door with your keys in hand.

By the time you’re walking up to the school Mai is running through the main doors, the principal right behind her smiling as Mai meets you halfway. She clings around your waist and it instantly causes your eyes to water, “hi bean.”

“I missed you,” she says, pulling herself off of you only to grab your hand. She pulls you with fervor to your car, barely giving you time to look back and wave at the principal.

Once settled in the car you turn towards the backseat and look at her with raised brows, “did they know you were getting out early?”

Mai purses her lips, eyes widening when she shrugs in response, quick to open a book to read when you start the car.

“Hm,” you turn around without much afterthought, making the drive back to their house. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks since that morning which you’ve tried desperately to forget, and three weeks since talking to Jungkook and Mai.

You aren’t sure what classifies as tension between an adult and a child, but the Mai who is usually speaking faster than she can keep up with has taken to staring out the window, staring at the buildings whizzing by and trees blending into the other. You look into the rearview mirror every so often, pretending you don’t know why she looks so indifferent.

Hugging you was a good sign, but now she seems awkward, dashing out of your car and beating you to the front door. You eye each other when you make it there. She gives you a sarcastic look, looking at your keys for a moment before you get the hint. You always had a set of keys to their house. It felt weird using them now.

Mai pushes the door open impatiently, the keys still in the lock with your hand attached to it, “hey-geez, slow down will you-no running-” you smack your tongue, setting your things down when Mai runs down the hallway to her bedroom.

Your chest fills with air as you take a glance around their home, singing praises that Jungkook’s car is not in the driveway meaning he must have been too busy to eat lunch at home.

“Mai,” your voice echoes down the hallway, “Mai you know shouldn’t be running in the house.”

She’s sitting at the small table her grandpa made for her, her homework already laid out and a pencil in hand. You watch her for a moment, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment of what you’ve said. But she just sits there, chin resting in her hand while she reads over the assignment.

You sigh, moving to sit on the floor next to her, looking over her paper to read the words but all you can see is the blank expression on Mai’s face. You poke her hand, “anybody in there?”

She moves her hand into her lap and starts writing.

You know why she’s doing this and you can’t be upset, but it does sting a little. Usually, it’s a fight to get her to do her homework when you’re around; “so you’re just going to ignore me? I thought you missed me.”

It’s only then that her eyes dart to meet yours, her eyes a mirrored reflection of her father’s. It’s always amazed you how they twinkle like stardust is floating around in them. You attempt a smile but it just falls when you notice how her eyes are glistening with tears.

“I missed you too bean-”

“Na-uh, I’m a kid but you don’t need to lie to me, I’m a tough kid.” She defends herself.

“Mai,” you sigh.

“If you missed me then you would have come to see me, but you didn’t for three whole weeks, so you’re just a liar,” Mai abandons her pencil and drops her face onto the table, creating a barrier around her head with her arms.

That cuts you deep.

A liar.

You sit there and listen to her sniffle before working up the courage to touch her arm, she flinches and you wait for her to pull away but it’s more surprising when she doesn’t.

“Bean, will you look at me please?” Your tone is soft as you rub her arm. She shakes her head.

“Please," is all you can say. You watch her chest heave when she complies a minute later, cheeks wet from her tears, she can hardly keep her eyes on you. You reach over and wipe her face with the back of your hand, squeezing her chin in the process. She bites back a smile.

“You lost a tooth!” You gasp, holding onto her chin and moving it down to reveal the new gap in her bottom teeth. She can’t help but perk up at you noticing, “it fell out when I bit into an apple,” she giggles. You laugh with her, watching her round cheeks glow pink; “Mai, I really have missed you.”

She moves her lips in a thinking manner, finally, you can breathe a little bit easier when her eyes find you, “I told dad you are my best friend. And usually best friends like to see each other, so,” she hums, scrounging around for her thoughts, “so you didn’t come over and I thought you just didn’t want me to be your friend anymore.”

You’re shaking your head, cursing at yourself, “that would never happen, not in a million lifetimes kid because you’re my best friend too.”

She understands but you can still see the questioning in her expression as she tries to piece it all together so it can make sense. You pull Mai closer to you until she is sitting right in front of you, her legs tucked underneath herself; “I am so sorry bean, for not talking to you and for not coming around-” you start but you wonder how to continue, looking around the room as if there is some viable answer written on the walls, “I was…angry about something and it hurt me really bad. So I thought being alone would make me feel better.”

Mai plays with your hands, perhaps not even noticing she is doing it, “did it?”

You have to chuckle at her, if only you had a measure of Mai’s honesty, you and Jungkook would not be in this current situation, “no, because I just ended up hurting the one person who means so much to me, the only one who has never hurt me back.”

Mai looks at you hopefully, “me?”

A smile beams across your face and you pull Mai into you until she is giggling, “yes you, silly.”

After a moment of light-heartedness, Mai settles back down, drawing circles into the shag rug, “dad said he hurt your feelings, so I guess this is all his fault.”

You hum, rubbing your hand over her hair, “well - no, I can’t put all the blame-”

“MAI?” The desperate yell for her name causes both of you to jump. Mai clamors to her feet, darting into her bathroom and slamming the door shut.

“What-Mai?” You’re launched into a panic, one over the fact that Mai’s face drained of any color at the sound of her dad’s gruff voice and second, it’s Jungkook’s voice.

Her name falls off of his tongue like rapid fire. Before you can say anything he tears into Mai’s bedroom and comes to a screeching halt at the sight of you. He’s breathless, staring at you. All you can manage is to gesture at the bathroom door, “she ran in there.” Just then Mrs. Jeon comes in behind her son, worried eyes finding relief upon seeing you, “oh thank God, please tell me Mai is here,” she sighs.

You nod, confused as ever, “her principal called me because it was an early day and nobody was there to pick her up…” You stop, realizing there was a major miscommunication and Mai was the culprit.

Jungkook’s eyes are fierce, eyebrows in a straight line when he moves in front of the bathroom door, hand rattling the doorknob which is now locked. He makes a fist ready to pound on it when his mom stops him, “you’ll just make it worse,” she speaks calmly, looking back at you. Her hands are trembling when she reaches out to you, you move forward and grab them.

You fumble with words, “She must’ve-”

“We’ve been looking everywhere for the last hour - since when did my kid start scheming - open this door Mai!” Jungkook starts again, his worry fuming out of him.

“Jungkook-ah, please,” Mrs. Jeon pleaded, pushing herself between the door and her son, “the important part is that she is safe…why don’t you go to the kitchen, get some water and just relax for a moment.”

“Mom-”

She shakes her head, “I will talk to her, now go.”

Hesitantly he drags his feet and leaves the room. Your stomach does flips when Mrs. Jeon settles her attention on you, hand resting on the doorknob of Mai’s bathroom.

Please, don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t-

“Will you keep an eye on him, please? I don’t know why but he’s been so worked up lately-” Mrs. Jeon shrugs, unsure of what else to say. You take a deep breath in, nodding as you march out of the room at a snail’s pace.

He’s bent at the waist, face pressed into his palms before he runs them back through his hair- it’s shorter now. He takes a deep breath that is promptly cut off when he sees you standing there, your hands resting on top of the granite countertop. Your fingers twitch with anxiety, palms feeling clammy as your heartbeat picks up again.

He finishes a glass of water, turning around to set it down in the sink. He doesn’t look back at you, resting his hands at the edge of the counter, “thanks for being there,” his voice is barely audible, “you-uh, you don’t have to stay-”

“I’m sorry.”

His shoulders tense, another breath is trapped in his throat at the sound of your voice. It rasps and shakes at the threat of new tears but you hold them back for as long as you can. You aren’t sure how long that will last.

“Jungkook?” You aren’t confident saying his name, unsure if he is seething because of Mai or if it’s really because of you.

He nods before turning around, looking at the top of your head before his gaze shakes over your eyes until he gives up, looking down at the floor.

“I don’t know-” you stop when you hear Mrs. Jeon come down the hallway, she stands next to you and rubs your back, a more relaxed smile on her face.

“She failed to let us know that it was an early day, says she forgot,” Mrs. Jeon shrugs. You and Jungkook look at each other knowing full well that Mai is the mastermind behind this very moment; “but she understands the severity of what she caused and is ready to apologize to you,” his mom looks from her son to you, “and you.”

Jungkook thanks her and walks her to the front door after she hugs you; “oh,” she calls to you gently, “come over for dinner soon? It’s like pulling teeth to get this boy to bring you over, we miss you.”

You just nod, smiling at her before Jungkook closes the door behind her. He rubs the back of his neck, reclaiming his spot across from you. The island provides a safe space between the two of you as you lean your weight against it.

“I’m sorry,” his tone is unsure but you can feel the guilt radiate from him, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that,” he sighs, “and so many other things.” He mutters the last part but you manage to hear it.

“I was hurt,” you swallow so hard that even he can hear it, “I’ve had so much pent up - for years…I just lost it.”

“We always talk about everything. I mean, d-don’t you think I would have wanted to know about something that important?” His words are desperate to be heard, steeped in weeks of constant questioning.

“You make it sound like confessing is so easy,” you can’t help the frown that appears, “the risk involved? Because telling you just so I can be rejected doesn’t mean just losing you,” your voice struggles, “I’ll lose Mai too and god, I can’t stomach that.”

He’s looking at you now, directly at you, blinking away what you can only assume are tears.

“I-I didn’t want to risk that so I held it in, I pushed it away until I believed that I didn’t love you anymore but,” you shake your head, “I realized it wasn’t going to go away even after every date you came home from. How I’ve had to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach when you traipse in after you’ve been with another woman, a woman that could never be me - will never be me. I was so mad that I couldn’t be jealous enough or hurt enough by that to stop loving you. I want to stop, but I can’t figure out how-” your words taper off when you notice a trace of a smile spreads across his lips. 

“Are you sm-smiling?” Your hands tremble and you’re ready to storm out of there.

He is smiling, it’s barely there but you can see it. 

“Can I say something?” His eyebrows lift as he looks at you with hopeful eyes.

You aren��t sure if you should be offended by the crooked smile on his face, the same one that melts your insides and makes your palms sweat. You just nod, ready to take on another offense.

“I love you too.” His voice is shaking. 

Everything stops. Your heart launches into your throat and you aren’t sure if you’re breathing anymore. You can feel your mouth fall open, you have to tell yourself to close it. Jungkook just waits.

The confident, suave Jungkook you know all too well is replaced by the loving human you have known even more. The man who masks his worth with fleeting escapades that never last past one night or a weekend at most.  

“What? What do you mean,” you stutter, your lungs feel like they are collapsing, “why are you telling me this now?”

Jungkook closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head, “I’m scared too.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you. 

He takes you in, the intensity of his stare enough to make you fall back, you can only hope there’s enough strength left in your legs to hold yourself up. Your stomach flips when he makes a step forward to which you take one back.

“You didn’t give me a chance to say anything when it all happened,” his feet move toward you again in one small step, “I wanted to tell you then but rightfully so, you were so upset. Then you were telling me to leave-”

“I didn’t-I-”

“You didn’t want me to reject you?” Jungkook fills in the blanks for you. You nod sheepishly, wringing your hand around your wrist.

The air stills when Jungkook’s fingertips graze your hand, “have I ever rejected you since we’ve known each other?”

Your mind races. Intentionally, no he hasn’t. As much as you dropped everything to be with Mai, Jungkook would do the same. When your car broke down on the freeway late one night? Jungkook was there before the tow truck, a sleeping Mai in the back seat of their car. When you didn’t get the promotion you worked tirelessly to earn? He was at your apartment to pick up the pieces, later that night you and Mai baked cookies together and ended that awful day with a movie - the three of you cuddled up on your couch.

Jungkook has always been there.

“God, all I’ve ever wanted is you,” Jungkook can’t stop himself long enough to allow you to stay in your thoughts. He can practically see your heart thumping out of your chest, he can feel your warm breath stagger out of your mouth. It isn’t until he decides to reach up and touch your neck with a ghostly touch does your breathing still. His touch is so slight it leaves goosebumps all over your skin. You swallow the lump in your throat when his hand grazes your jaw before he cups it around the side of your face. His fingers rub the shell of your ear.

“Do you still want me?” He fills the gap between you with careful steps; you can see the longing in his eyes and you wonder for how long you’ve missed that. With the little space left, it’s almost too difficult to look up at him; “Jungkook I-”

His breath stops at the sound of your voice like he’s ready for the ultimate rejection. His beating heart prepares for more pain.

“Yes,” You’re breathless. You only catch a second of the smile spreading his cheeks before he pulls you in. Muscular arms wrapping tightly around you but he’s careful to leave breathing room. All too naturally, your face nuzzles in his shoulder, breathing in his scent as your arms fold around his waist.

His nose presses into your hair, cheek warm against your temple.

“Wait,” you push your hands against his chest to create space. He grabs your hands to keep you close, “are you serious?”

He chuckles, nodding, his warm breath casts over your face, putting you deeper under his spell.

“After all of that happened, I didn’t think I had a chance. I didn’t think it could even be a possibility before,” his eyes look uncertain now, “you know too much about me,” he runs his fingers back through your hair, “but you are everything to me…you’ve loved Mai without me even asking you to,” he sighs, his expressions always more serious than most but it’s the Jungkook you know. Innocent eyes staring down at you, “watching you with Mai these last seven years has been the highlight of my life, but it was torturous too-”

You press your face into his chest, chuckling while tears overcome you, “torturous?”

Jungkook picks your chin up and kisses your tears away; “you were always in arm's reach but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, I just settled to silently love you.”

You shake your head, allowing Jungkook to wipe each tear away with his thumb.

“I was afraid it would confuse Mai. She’s my world too, you know?” You whisper.

“She’s too wise for her age,” he brushes his nose against yours, wearing the smile that exposes his bunny teeth, “trust me, she knows enough that we should be a family.” 

His eyes search for an answer in yours, you don’t have to ask for the question running through his mind when his gaze sweeps over your lips. The only thing that forces him to stop is when he chuckles low.

“What?” You smile, head floating in ecstasy, you think you could pass out.

“I guess that stupid fortune was true.”

You shake your head with a small smile. He fidgets, “I love you-” he manages to get out before your lips press against his. They are slightly chapped but so soft as they mold to yours. You can feel your skin growing hot when his tongue rubs against your bottom lip. It takes everything in you not to burst right then and there, fallen victim to his tender kiss.

“I love you,” you stop to say. His slight pout at the break in your kiss makes you chuckle.

Jungkook lets his chin rest against your shoulder when he pulls you in, the two of you staying that way for a little bit. If not for the quiet pad of Mai’s bare feet tapping down the hallway, he thinks he could have stayed that way with you all night.

His eyes brighten when he sees Mai stoke around the corner, saucer-sized eyes spying on the two of you.

“Come here bean,” Jungkook’s voice surprises you, and you pull away as Mai runs into the kitchen. Before you can say anything to her, she wraps her arms around your middle, nose pressed into your hip. She muffles something.

You sniffle, “I can’t understand you,” you giggle, grabbing her chin in a tender grip so she can look up at you. Her eyes are wet again, resting her chin against your stomach, “I said, I love you.” Mai whispers like her dad can’t hear her. Her cheeks grow red and she immediately shies away.

Jungkook rubs her back with a loving stroke when he hears your breath catch in your throat. You kneel and take Mai’s face in your hands, “I love you so much, bean.”

“Enough to stick around forever?” She laughs nervously, swallowing back a soft cry, “because it was horrible without you, dad doesn’t know how to build forts like you do.” Jungkook laughs, nudging Mai’s back with his knee.

There’s a gentle mending in your heart when she says that, you stroke her hair and laugh with glistening eyes, “I promise I’ll build forts with you until we’re both too big to fit in them, and even then kid, you can’t ever get rid of me.” You are struggling to hold back the ugliest of sobs.

Mai doesn’t answer, she only falls forward into your arms, nuzzling her face into your hair. Jungkook joins you, resting on his knees to wrap the two of you into his hold. 

You pull your face away enough so you can look at him. He kisses you before mouthing the words you’ve so yearned to hear him say; “I love you.”

[luveline]

𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

part one | part two 

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome, and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating. Too bad you just can’t seem to leave each other alone. 

fem!reader, enemies-to-lovers, rival rockstars, mutual pining, slight miscommunication, angst, hurt-comfort, eddie has mixed intentions, sexual tension, TW bullying (in case), TW recreational drug use, drinking, smoking, swearing. disclaimer: I can’t play an instrument

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The Coral Apartments, California, November 1990

Eddie Munson looks good on TV. You try to convince yourself that it's the blurry imagery, the three-toned LED's, but you know it's because he's plain good-looking. Rockstar suits him. Glam suits him; eyeliner, ripped shirts, ever-bruised knuckles and cut up fingertips that speak of a wrought dedication to the music he plays. 

You look away from the TV and push the sheets down with your feet, naked legs flat to the mattress and covered in your own cuts and bruises. It's not entirely Morgan's fault, but every time you see the shiny scar on your ankle you get mad at her again. She'd been sloppy on stage, pulled her mic tight and sent you reeling over it like a tripwire. You'd cut up your legs, sprained your wrist, and split your chin. On national TV. In front of thousands of people. 

Your ego is pretty bruised too. 

Worse was the bouquet of flowers you'd been sent the day after, huge and bursting with colour from a certain dark-haired thorn in your side. 

Saw you ate shit. Stop day-dreaming about me during sets and you'll be fine. EM 

You'd trashed the card but hadn't had the heart to fob the flowers. The last survivors of the bunch wilt slowly on the nightstand beside you, a much too pretty reminder of somebody you're trying to forget. Or rather, erase. You won't admit to yourself what happened at Monsters of Rock, because admitting it means he's winning. 

Morgan pushes your door open with her hip. If she's perturbed to find you in your underwear she doesn't say a word, making a beeline for your bag. She takes out your Newports and taps the carton against her chest. 

"What's up?" she asks, sliding a cigarette from the box and propping it between her shiny lips. "You still feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Morgan." 

She lights her cigarette, laughing through an exhale of smoke. "How many times do I have to say sorry?" 

"Once would be nice." 

"Babe." Morgan sits at the end of your bed, in a good mood for once but still herself. "I'm sorry you fell over my mic." 

She likely doesn't even see what's wrong with her apology. You accept it for what it is and hold your arm out for the pack and lighter. Knees pulled up, you settle against the headboard and light a cigarette yourself, but snuff it out after a shallow inhale. Nothing feels worth indulging in when the knot of anxiety in your chest keeps on tightening. 

"Where's Ananya?" you ask. 

"You're watching this again?" 

You glance at the TV where Corroded Coffin play through their Monsters of Rock set. 

"M'just waiting for us," you lie mildly.

"Sure… You know, you shouldn't feel bad about your spill last week. Look at Munson. Biggest crowd of his life and he's tripping over an E major." 

She snorts, the two of you watching as the Eddie on screen looks to the left of the stage and misses his mark. 

"How do you flub that?" She rolls her eyes. "Boys." 

How did he flub it? You'd been standing on the side stage cleaned up and smiling like you were half in love with him. The recording is proof — whatever power it is that he has over you, you have something similar over him. 

"Anya's in the lobby waiting for us." 

You sit up. 

"Why?" 

Morgan points at the alarm clock on your nightstand with the smouldering tip of her cigarette. "It's Friday." 

"It's Thursday." 

She smiles at you. If you didn't know her, the look of pity on her face might almost feel genuine. As it stands, she's a magnanimous bitch when she wants to be. She's lucky that it suits her. 

"It's Friday, babe. And we're," —she tilts her head to one side, the bemusement in her eyes unmissable— "ten minutes late." 

"Shit. Shit." You stand up on wobbly legs. "Fuck." 

"Don't worry! I got you something." 

With Morgan, you aren't sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. But you don't really have a choice. 

—

Eddie won't admit to anybody why he finds himself in California. The band isn't touring, award season is mostly over. He should go home and see Wayne because fuck he's a bad nephew, a bad son, and Wayne deserves a whole lot better than one phone call a week when Eddie's too hungover to actually listen to what his uncle is saying. He should head back to Hawkins and make sure Wayne's actually cashing in the cheque's Eddie's been sending. 

He shouldn't be hanging around parties hosted by people he only knows from TV looking for you, that's for sure. 

The good thing about being semi famous is that introductions don't matter. Either somebody already knows you or they don't, and everybody assumes you already know them. Eddie can't count how many times somebody's pulled him in for a one-armed hug and said "Good to see you again," when they've never met before. 

It could be the coke. It's probably the ego. 

Eddie isn't extremely introspective or anything, but he hopes to fuck that he isn't an asshole. He knows he is in superficial ways. He's said some hurtful shit to people — to you — he wishes every now and then that he could take back. In the moment it had felt right to tease you, to belittle you as he thought you'd belittled him. He'd wanted to put his hand out and ask how high you can jump. But then he remembers how your bandmates had spoken to you, or your glitzy smile. He remembers the twisting pain in his chest when you'd fallen over on stage a week ago (though if anybody asks, he heard about it from somebody else). You'd smashed into the floor with a cruel force, arms twisted trying to protect your guitar, not a second spared to save yourself. You'd got back on your feet with blood dripping down your chin and played the rest of the song without complaint. Not one person had stepped in to clean you up. 

It drives Eddie insane. He can't help it. He hates you and he wants to linger on the sidelines and watch you play. He can't stand the despondent look in your eyes when you look at him, when you look at the floor. He needs you to know that you're better than they tell you, but he can't make himself say the words. 

So he'd sent you flowers and made a lame joke, hoping for hot and coming off desperate no doubt. He'd regretted it as soon as he'd hung up the phone, but he hadn't cancelled the order. Something colourful, he'd said. What flowers cheer people up? 

The florist had laughed at his awkward tone and said that all flowers do the trick. 

God, he hopes so. 

Which isn't to say Eddie likes you. He can't stand you, actually, come to think of it, standing in the sticky pit of some actress' kitchen as he pioneers the radio and flicks through to Roller FM. Resentment burns like fire as the dial clicks beneath his fingers, turning the volume up enough to hear the radio host introduce your band. 

"And tonight, a month before their new studio album hits the charts, Godless are letting us be the first to hear the second single. The outpour of hype after their first, Down and Out, was no small feat, and we have the lovely ladies here tonight to walk us through that fresh sound. But first, let's spin that new single. Ladies and gents, this is Silver Ringed…" 

Godless are about as cohesive as Corroded Coffin. They have a unique sound as most chart toppers tend to have, and as much as he thinks your front woman is a total hack, she can sing. Her voice moves from sultry and quiet to aggressive and rasping. She isn't afraid to scream when she needs to, and you and Ananya obviously won't let yourselves be outdone. Your music is visceral. It's good. Not Corroded Coffin good, you don't have the clean cut sound they do, but Eddie knows that isn't the point. It's supposed to be a little dirty, and since they let you on the writing floor it's getting worse. Better. Whatever. 

Eddie rubs his face with both hands. 

When the song ends, the radio host asks some questions about the new album, inspirations, touring, promotional album covers, the works, and Eddie hates himself for waiting to hear your voice. He grows irritated at the sound of Morgan's raspy nonchalance. 

"I mean, you guys are really stepping into a new genre here." It's true. Godless and bands like yours are more energetic, more aggressive than what Eddie plays. It's a divisive subject. Eddie likes it, but he knows a ton of metalheads who think it's immature. It's certainly not traditional. "Your first album was a whole lot different. And it was good, Godless broke into the scene! But this is new. You guys are more original and more popular than ever. Why the change?" The host laughs. "Well, she's sitting right here." 

Eddie thinks he can hear you inhale, but it's Morgan who speaks. 

"I wanted more for us, you know? Our first record, we just wanted to prove we could do it. This time we want to prove no one else can." 

Jamison scoffs. Eddie looks up from the radio and finds his bandmate with a beer in hand. He tries to steal it and gets an elbow to the chest for the effort. 

"Dick," he says. 

"Get your own." Jamison tilts his head toward the radio in a show of tuning in. "Can't tear yourself away, huh? How's your girlfriend?" 

"Christ," Eddie hisses. 

"You need him. Aw, she sounds so sweet." 

Eddie startles back to the radio, and sure enough you've finally been allowed to talk. Your voice is soft with nerves. 

"It's a lot to adjust to, I think I'm slow to- uh, get with the program. But I'm so happy to get to make music and to be a part of something this sick. Uh, this amazing, I mean." 

Poor girl, he thinks. By the end of your answer you sound like you want the ground to swallow you up. Thankfully the host is a professional, and laughs warmly. 

"It's a big lifestyle change! We talked a little about influence, is there a track I can play you guys out with? What's your favourite?" he asks. 

"Me?" you ask. 

"Yeah, you." 

"Oh, uh…" You laugh, sounding frazzled and sweet at once. "It has to be Black Sabbath, right? Do you guys have, um, The Mob Rules? Mob Rules is my favourite." 

Eddie needs to get very drunk, he decides, and he does. He drinks until he can't taste the difference between the shitty craft beer and seven hundred dollar cognac. Until he forgets why he was drinking in the first place, to erase the sound of your voice and your Sabbath recommendation — who the fuck picks Mob Rules over Heaven and Hell? He's tipsy and he won't remember, but he wants to fuck you stupid just for that (affectionately).

He loves Mob Rules. 

They move from one party to another, sloshed in the back of a car he still can't afford with his rockstar paycheck, more than drunk in the bathroom of a Studio City mansion kissing powder off of his fingers. Whatever he's been given doesn't last very long (though it hits hard), and he comes back to reality on a huge fancy couch surrounded by people, some he knows and most he doesn't. 

"I need a drink," he says. 

And he gets the shock of his life.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," you say gently. 

Eddie swings his head to yours, finding you in a nice dress, the gem of a necklace fallen down the valley of your chest. The lights are high and blaring and he can see the fine hairs of your face, the shine of your lipgloss like a siren call. 

"Why are you here?" he asks. 

You shrug. He watches your shoulders. 

"I need a drink," he says again. 

"Like, a beer? I don't judge but I think you’ll get alcohol poisoning if you drink anything else." 

"Like a beer." 

You look like you might stand up and get him one, for a second. He's ultimately glad that you don't. You twist around, elbow over the back of the couch, and your face beams like a star as you call, "Hey, Dornie? Could you toss me a beer, please?" 

Eddie worries he'd wanted to see you so badly you've appeared as a hallucination, and he hates himself and it's all old news anyways, but you turn back with a cold as ice beer in hand and press it into his arm until he whines.

"I'm sobering you up," you tease, again so gently. He does not like how you're looking at him, like you feel sorry for him. 

He takes the beer though the second sip makes him feel sick to his stomach, and tries not to look at you. 

"What, you don't want to be my friend anymore?" you ask. 

What has he said? 

"Sweetheart," he says, focusing very hard on sounding solid, "a friend is the last thing I want from you." 

"Could've fooled me… Hey, you wanna know a secret?" 

"What?" 

You lean in close, smelling of perfume, your face undeniably touchable. "I heard from somebody who heard from somebody else that they're kicking Tony Martin to the curb." 

He blinks. "Sabbath?" 

"Uh-huh." 

"Why the fuck would they do that?" 

"Think on it, baby." 

If he couldn't smell the flowery punch of your perfume, or see the individual lashes that shield your waterline, he'd definitely think you were a dream. You're here, and you're talking to him like you like him, looking at him like you did, you cruel, awful thing, that day at Monsters of Rock when he'd pressed you up against a wall and kissed you until his lips burned. You'd kissed back. You'd responded, your lips pressing against his with more enthusiasm than made any sense. 

Now you're calling him baby and telling him secrets, your knees tucked together and the outside of your thigh warming a stripe under his jeans. It feels surreal. Your body heat is sinking into his skin. 

Somebody across the coffee table entices you into conversation. Eddie listens to you talk. Maybe high Eddie is a nicer guy than sober Eddie (unlikely), because you don't seem repulsed by his company. Considering how you left things, your little corner shop spat and his bruising kiss, he hadn't been expecting a warm welcome. 

"Did you–" he starts, insecure and hiding it as best as he can, fingers itching for a cigarette, for something to do, "did you like the flowers?" 

"You already asked me that." You peek down at his beer. "Could I have that?" 

He hands it over numbly. 

"It's not a good idea, you know? Drugs and drink, mixing them together. It messes with your heart," you tell him. 

"Don't act all innocent," he says. 

"No, I know, I'm not trying to lecture you 'cause I do shit I shouldn't do, but– you looked one bump from a heart attack. Seriously." 

"Why do you care?" 

You laugh. Your nose wrinkles. "I don't know." 

It's not the answer he wanted, but it's the one he deserves. 

He's spent weeks talking to himself, imagining conversations between you both. He's memorised defences, shamefully readied a few insults in case you'd prepared your own, but nothing comes to mind now. He's speechless. 

You drink his beer and he thinks about how his lips had been at the mouth of it not ten minutes ago. It shouldn't matter. You've already kissed him. It shouldn't. 

"I don't think I took what I meant to," he admits. 

"Me neither. Morgan said they've been cutting with procaine around the hills. Did you get super numb?" 

He can't remember. He doesn't want to talk about any of this with you. "I heard you on the radio." 

"You did?" 

"You were scared." 

"No." You tear the tab off of the beer and put it in his hand. "I like high Eddie, he’s honest." 

"I'm not, really…" 

"Should see your pupils." 

Maybe he is, then. That could explain why he keeps saying what he's thinking without pausing to check if it sounds cool. He has his defences up to the ceiling usually, wouldn't ever let you or anybody else in, not here. 

He's staring at you. 

You brush the side of his arm with your fingernails. 

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he asks. 

Your small smile flattens into a line. "I don't know, Eddie. Who are you gonna tell? Who'd believe you? As far as the tabloids and- and our friends are aware, we hate each other." 

"It didn't feel like you hated me." 

"I didn't."

"But you do now?" 

You stand up. Eddie gets caught in your smile, charming with something worse lurking beneath. You brush the hair out of his face and station your hands at the base of his neck, dropping your head toward his ear. 

"Not telling," you whisper.

He thinks for a moment you're gonna kiss him, his ear or his neck, but you scratch his scalp lightly and leave as he's getting to grips with the feeling of your breath against his skin. 

—

Dolly Floor, California, December 1990 

Dolly Floor is a club in West Hollywood frequented by movie stars. You're pretty sure you only get in because of Morgan's snow trail incident months ago, and you almost wish they'd sent you packing when you see how densely hedged it is inside. The temperature hikes up with every step you take inside, and soon Morgan's dropping your wrist in favour of one of her friends across the way, leaving you totally alone. 

You're dressed in too much clothing for the occasion, a dress with sleeves and a leather jacket that isn't yours, big boots to protect your feet from crushing crowds. Morgan had thrown a pair of kitten heels at you in frustration. For once you'd told her no. She's been oddly friendly lately, letting you do as you please with nothing more than an irritated huff, and so you've got tights and socks alike stuffed into your shoes — you're sick of aches and pains. 

If anybody steps on your toes tonight, you're going home. 

The air is thick with humidity, exhaled breath, the scent of alcohol explaining the stickiness under your footsteps. You don't know many people, but you know Dornie and, irritatingly, half of Corroded Coffin, so you beeline for the band where they're holed up at the back and hope one of them will give you a drink. 

There's gotta be thirty different people hanging out. How they can hear each other talk is a mystery. Dornie puts his arm out when he sees you and you slide into his side, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his pale cheek. 

"Careful," he says, "you'll make someone jealous." 

You're affectionate with Dornie 'cause he's nice. Just plain nice, which is hard to find in Hollywood. He's the very first friend you've made that's yet to break your heart, and better, he hasn't tried to sleep with you.

Not that you think you're some unresistable notch. 

"Who'd be jealous of me?" you ask. 

"Of me." He rubs your shoulder through leather. "It's good to see you, doll. Your chin's healing up nice, yeah? Or is it make-up?" 

He taps your chin. 

It unlocks a reluctant memory, the shadow of a different hand, heavy with intoxication but painstakingly gentle. 

"It's a bit of make-up," you admit, lifting your chin so he can see it. 

"Still, it's getting better. How are your knees?" 

Hiding behind your tights. "They're gnarly. Doesn't hurt to walk much now though." 

Dornie grins. He has a pretty smile with white wonky teeth and three lip rings on one side. His hair is shorn short, unlike most of the guys here rocking hair to the ears or even longer. His eyes are a light brown, emphasising the bruising bags under his eyes. He looks tired. 

"Don't look, but I'm getting some serious glarage from your favourite guitarist." 

"You're my favourite guitarist," you say, and you mean it. His arm is a comforting weight. It feels so good to have a friend. 

"Your second favourite." 

You step completely into Dornie's view and look up at him. "How's he look now?" 

"Chilling. Want me to guide you over to the bar like we're lovers?" 

"Don't say it like that." 

Dornie pulls you across the floor back to the bar, where blessed cool air seeps down from the air-conditioning and the drinks leave pools of condensation the second they're put down. Dornie buys you a mystery cocktail that tastes more like water than juice. You sip at it happily, using your more neutral vantage point to get a good look at Eddie. 

He's sprawled against a booth wall with one arm behind his head, a cigarette sending smoke up to the wall. He looks better than the last time you'd seen him. There's colour in his cheeks, though that might be the lighting. Dolly Floor is a strange venue, like a strip club without the workers, or a restaurant without food. It doesn't feel like a club, but there's a small stage around the corner from the bar where good music plays live, and it doesn't take much convincing for Dornie to come and watch the show with you for a bit. Some of his friends join you, a woman called Natalie, a man named Matfield, and they're both as nice as he is. 

"We heard the new record!" Matfield says across the high table, the golden watch on his wrist a beacon under the reflections of the harsh stage lights. 

"Hated it?" you ask. 

He chuckles. "All the screaming isn't for me, baby, but that shit doesn't matter. It was good. How's it doing?" 

"I honestly haven't looked," you say, opening your box of Newports and offering them out like candy. Everybody takes one. 

"Better not to know tonight," Natalie says agreeably, her perfect black hair curled toward her face like a seraphim shifting as she leans in for a light. "All you have to do is celebrate." 

You'd wanted, foolishly, to celebrate with the girls. Ananya had dipped as soon as she could and you get it, she has her own friends, but Morgan knocking the door of your room had been a great relief. If at least one of them wants to spend time with you, that's enough. Only, Morgan had made it clear as she was sifting through your clothes that she was going to try and find, "like, someone who's actually interesting." You'd taken it about half as personally as you would've a few months ago. 

Hence Dornie. You'd called him on the landlines and he'd said, "Yeah, babe, I'll meet you there." 

Thank whatever's watching for Dornie. 

He buys you another drink and then another, says your money's no good and tonight's about you. His friends are great, including you in all their jokes and smiles, and when the lights go down and the music gets louder you head out onto the glowing tiles and dance with them. 

Eddie finds you not long after. Slinking up from your peripherals, hand in his pocket. 

"What Eddie am I seeing tonight? The nice one?" 

Eddie doesn't flinch at your sudden question. "You look good." 

He'd approached from the left. You'd felt it rather than heard him, and you'd guessed right. He steps further into view, not smiling, not not smiling. He looks good too. 

"I heard the album." 

You hate how much you care. "Yeah?" 

"It was good. It wasn't metal, but it was good." 

You're laughing before he's even finished, turning away from him in a feigned sense of superiority. I don't care what you think. 

Eddie doesn't grab you. You wouldn't care if he did. He follows by your elbow and says, "Come on, you know it isn't." 

"Just 'cause it doesn't sound rooted in the 70s," you say with a smile. 

"That's the whole point. It's baseless, there's nothing traditional in it. It isn't metal, but it's rock, and it's good, and–" 

"Slow down, Munson. A girl'd think you liked her." 

"I'm objective." 

"You're not."

"I'm not, but my opinions are right. Everybody says that, but when I do it's true, so…"

You look at him properly. He looks present in a way he hasn’t before in front of you. There’s a total clarity behind his eyes that you yourself don’t have tonight. He looks sober. Not that you thought he was an addict, not that you didn’t. There’s a certain blasé attitude to substance abuse when you get a kick of fame. Everybody has something in their pocket and you’ll admit to buying into it, taking stuff you shouldn’t in unfamiliar places. You know, of course, that drugs are fucking dangerous. But you hadn’t been freaked out by them until the other night, when you bumped into Eddie outside of the bathroom in Dornie’s friend’s house and he hadn’t recognised you for a solid ten seconds. 

He’s chewing on nothing. 

“I didn’t do it to hold over you,” you say.

“What?”

“Look after you. It wasn’t… I mean, I wasn’t making fun of you. And I’m not gonna tell anybody.”

“Generous.” His eyes narrow subtly. 

“So if that’s what you’re doing.” You look down to his neck where a silver chain rests, thin, new and hidden under his shirt. “Checking to make sure, I’m not.”

“You think I’m here to make sure you don’t tattle?”

You’re too tipsy to feel embarrassed. “You’re here to buy me a drink, then. I want a cherry margarita with extra shiny cherries and all the salt on the rim, please. Please,” you add, because the second one hadn’t felt polite enough. 

Eddie nods and half turns. “Shiny cherry?” he asks. You almost miss it, his soft tone nearly lost in the noise.

“Maraschino… they’re pink.”

“You’re not gonna come with me?”

“Get lost often?” 

Eddie holds his hand out. You’re supposed to think of how his hand looks, his callouses, his rings, the cut across his thumb, the size and length of his fingers. You think about them enough when he isn’t around, but now, right now, your heart thuds against your chest. Your thoughts are a mess until they aren’t — hold his hand. You put your fingers against his palm and he squeezes them together like he’s collected them, tugging you out of the crowd and across the room to the slick black bar. 

You’re still angry with him. You’re wounded, knife to the gut and all the red blood because he’d been right, you’re a dog, you do what people tell you to, you’re doing it right now, but then he squeezes your hand with a light enough pressure that you’re sure you’ve imagined it until he does it again, leaning up against the bar as he gives your order. “Extra cherries,” he says to the barkeep with a smile, letting your hand go in favour of his own drink. 

The crowd surges with a new song and people brush your calves as they walk around you. You and Eddie stay at the bar. He sips on a bottle of water. You wait for your margarita. 

“Your cut’s healing up,” he says. 

You try not to notice your touching arms. “It was bad, right? It must’ve been. You felt so sorry for me,” —the words burn— “you sent me the biggest bouquet I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

“I didn’t feel sorry for you, sweetheart, can you read?”

“Between the lines, yes,” you say, nodding your head once, emphatic as you accept your margarita. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t feel sorry for you. Felt bad for you-“ He holds up a pale palm. “My fault an’ all, I’ll try to be less daydream worthy.”

“I wasn’t thinking about you. Did you see it? She tripped me up with her mic doing a shitty Stevie Nicks impression.”

“Wrong genre.”

You laugh at him. “Exactly! That’s the point.”

“Yeah, I saw it.” 

You raise your eyebrows. Eddie’s head tips forward and his hair hides his cheeks, the subtlest impression of his cheekbones lost to a curtain of curls. He twists one of his rings around his finger.

“She- You should be more careful,” he says. 

Everything’s raw with him, criticism most of all, but you’re feeling generous. You fish one of your shiny cherries from the margarita glass, surprised to find its stalk intact, and break the delicate skin between your teeth. You mull over what he’s saying as the sweet flavour aches in your jaw. You could’ve been more cautious. You’d been having fun, and you’d thought you could trust the people you work with to have your back. It was a little silly to assume; neither Morgan nor Ananya have ever shown you much second thought.

“Yeah, I think I should be,” you say finally, putting the cherry stalk in your mouth.

“What are you doing?”

You ignore him and try to tie a cherry stem knot. You keep trying until you think you’ve got it. You pull the stem from your tongue. 

“Shit,” you curse, glaring at the curved stem. “Thought I had it.”

Eddie grins and leans into your space, fingers quick to pinch a cherry from your margarita. 

He brings it to your mouth. You keep your lips pressed closed and search his face for a trick. Nothing peaks out, not a hint of cruelty to his pinked lips or flush of soft lashes. You try not to breathe as you open your mouth, and Eddie pushes the round of the cherry over your bottom lip slowly. 

You bite down. 

Eddie takes your stalk and places it on his own tongue. He closes his mouth, and within five seconds he’s taking out a knitted stem with a prideful buzz about him. Any smugness he’d held dissipates. He looks adorable. 

“Beat you,” he says. 

“Arrogant doesn’t suit you.”

“Arrogant absolutely suits me,” he argues, the corners of his lips twitching up, up, up. He’s smiling so much. He reminds you of somebody. “Sore loser doesn’t suit you.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“What’s that mean?”

“What’s that mean?” you repeat. “I smile at you across a stage set and you push me up against a wall.”

“Smile? That’s what you’d call that?”

You’re facing each other now. Eddie inches closer as he speaks, each word said with a precision that can’t be unpracticed. “I’m playing in front of near enough a hundred thousand people, kind of crowd I fucking dreamed of as a kid, in front of actual real life rockstars, and you stroll up to side stage dressed like–”

He cuts himself off. An olive branch. A stopper. A dam. His inhale infuriates you. 

“No, go on. Dressed like what, superstar?”

“Like a fucking groupie.” 

You know he’s only said it to try and get a rise out of you. He knows that you know. He looks like he wants to take it back. 

You want him to push it further. 

“And you liked it,” you say, angry. Quiet. “You liked it and you couldn’t get a handle on it.”

“No,” he says, knowing what you’re implying, voice hot and fast, “I kissed you because I knew you wanted me to. I knew what it would do to you.”

“I wanted you to?” you ask. 

“Didn’t you?”

“I wanted to mess with your head ‘cause you fucking harsssed me–”

He cuts you off, “You wanted to mess with me because you hated that I was right about you. Not everything, but enough. Those girls treat you like shit. And you let them, or you’ll be the next Millyana, sitting at home watching the rest of us on TV wondering why you couldn’t make it out.” Something in his expression flickers like a rubber band has struck his skin. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, you mean it. You worked hard to get here, had people treat you a whole heap worse than Eddie’s hot and cold, than Ananya's indifference and Morgan’s narcissism. Hours in buses with your neck craned against a short ceiling scribbling music and days toeing the line with a guitar falling apart in your hands. You scrimped and saved and starved for this. 

Eddie smiles at you. For the second time that night, he looks like somebody else. 

“I know,” he says. “I think we’re finally on the same page.”

—

Eddie buys you another drink. Your tipsiness had felt so far away when things got heated, but now your bubbly smile is back, and you’re actually talking to him. About music, sure, but the movies, the weather, the fancy apartments the record company put you up in. 

“Finally got my own room so Ananya can stop complaining about the noise,” you say with a wink. 

He chokes on his water. “The noise?”

“I’m a very dedicated player.”

You let a small silence pervade before bursting into giggles, hand patting his upper arm. “I’m kidding! She gets mad ‘cos I’m trying to learn YYZ but it is so, so hard.”

“Shit is hard,” he says. “Do you even have time for that? You start touring again in a month, maybe you should, you know, slack off?”

“No, because if I’m doing nothing I’m nothing.”

Eddie — fuck fuck fuck — shouldn’t pry. 

“You’re not nothing.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and he loves when you do it. It’s not cute, really, but everything you do is cute in a way he refuses to unpack. “No, I’m not, I don’t know why I said that.”

“I get it, though. You feel like… maybe it's all gonna stop one day. Wake up with a bad case of the yips and no matter how good you were…”

“Yeah.” You take a very noisy slurp of margarita. “I’m so afraid that I’m gonna be nothing that I can’t stop.”

Eddie throws his gaze around the room. It’s no coincidence that your friend Dornie keeps looking his way; the night is winding down and there’s barely anybody dancing. It’s home time. 

“You won’t be nothing,” he says, easing the margarita out of your hands. He might’ve bought you one too many. “I’m sorry for, uh, getting you drunk.”

“I got myself at least three parts there. Out of five.”

“At least three parts,” he agrees.

He wants, very badly, to touch your face. Hold your cheek in his palm. “Hey,” he says lightly. “Uh, you got something. On your cheek.”

You brush your dewy skin with an embarrassed look about you, shoulder risen and eyes all droopy with booze. “Here?”

“Higher.”

He watches you scrub at nothing. He’s tricking you. He feels awful. 

“Still haven’t got it?”

“‘Fraid not, baby.”

“You get it.” You brandish your cheek.

Eddie keeps a good distance. He knows what he’s doing is weird, he just wants to touch you for a second. He rubs the pad of his thumb down your face, tracing the path of a tear you haven’t shed. Eye to chin. 

“You’re good,” he says, dropping his hand. 

“Thank you.”

You’re slurring. He thinks you’re more tired than you are tipsy (though you are, undeniably, inebriated), and he wonders where all the time went, how it’s suddenly been an hour with you and your conversation. There’d been a moment where he thought he’d fucked it and your eyes had shone with hurt, but you’re smiling, he’s smiling, and Dornie looks aggrieved. All good things.

“I think you better get going,” he murmurs. 

“Sick of me?” you ask, not teasing. 

“No. Your friend’s waiting for you.” 

You look over your shoulder and your smile glows. You start babbling about how that’s your friend Dornie (he knows, you’ve only told him five times) and how Dornie is sooooo nice. You deserve somebody being nice to you right from the start. Eddie’s trying to make it right but he’s said some shit he can’t take back. He wants you to have someone who’s a hundred percent sweet on you, he just doesn’t wanna have to hear the adoration in your voice when you talk about it. 

Eddie’s a dick. Self-admitted. 

You go home with an arm looped around Dornie’s waist. (Dornie said high-pitched, wide-eyed.) Eddie pulls a handful of bills from his wallet to pay for the drinks he’d bought, stuffing the change in a tip jar on the way back to the dregs of the coffin crew. Jamison’s long gone and Jeff didn’t wanna come, but Gareth’s smoking a cigarette with another guy’s hand mysteriously lapward. 

He clears his throat. “I’m going home and taking the car.”

“Wait for me?”

Eddie cringes. “Sure.”

Eddie sits in the car. One hand on the wheel, the other in his pocket. He thinks about tonight, your hair, your smile, the way your arm had brushed up against his. He wonders if this is the right move. Eddie’s not mad at you anymore for forgetting who he was, for your teasing at the Prover Theatre or your rookie comments. And Monsters of Rock, that had been half spite and half bravado. Spur of the moment bravery. Idiocy. Yeah he’d kissed you to piss you off, but he’d also done it because he wanted to. 

He sighs and takes your discarded pull tab out of his pocket. He thumbs the rounded edge, thinking harder than one guy should ever think about anything that isn’t metal. Shit, he thinks. I gotta go home.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

note: they are not done hating each other I am just warming up! thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed <3

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Idk if you write for them but what about a todoroki and Deku going on a blind date with a Chubby reader🤔 (btw miss ma’am you dropped this 🤲🏾👑)

Your Kind of Men (poly!bi!pro!TodoDeku x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader SFW One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Izuku "Deku" Midoriya x Shoto Todoroki x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you go on a blind date set up by your friend and her pro hero partners, not realizing that you're about to get your chance to meet some pros yourself who are highly interested in having a third...and they hope that it's you.

Warnings: AgedUp!TodoDeku (they're in their late 20s-early 30s); Bisexual!TodoDeku; Polyamory; Sexual Fantasies; Flirting; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized (but anyone can still read this)

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Thank you for getting my crown for me, babe!! I hope you enjoy this! It's pretty tame except for the sex thoughts lol. Enjoy! -xoxo, Jazz 💋💋

********

“I don’t know how I feel about this, girl,” you sigh into the phone, staring down at your cocktail. “You didn’t even tell me what they do! What if they’re serial killers or something?” 

You feel a nervous sweat coming on despite the cool air in the fancy restaurant and the spaghetti straps of your dress allowing you to stay cool. You took a shower and added as much deodorant to your pits and jiggly inner thighs as you could because of your paranoia of smelling, but that does nothing to stop you from breaking out in anxious perspiration. 

“Would you stop that?” Your friend complains. “I didn’t tell you about their jobs because I wanted to surprise you! If Bakugou and Kiri know them, trust me: they’re good guys.” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose to avoid an oncoming headache from too much stress. Though the fact that these “guys” are Bakugou aka pro hero Dynamight and Kirishima aka pro hero Red Riot’s longtime buddies, that doesn’t do much to ease your worries or mind. 

”Then they must be fine as fuck ‘cause your boyfriends are!” You groan, earning a giggle from your friend. “It’s not funny! I’m literally having a panic attack and I don’t think this cocktail is helping.” 

You stare down at your Perfect Peach cocktail made with vodka and peach preserves that is supposed to ease your nerves as you sit at the bar waiting for your blind date…or blind dates, rather. 

After further consideration and fantasizing about it for months, you confided in your friend about wanting to try a polyamorous relationship like she has with Bakugou and Kiri. She always seems so happy when she’s with them. You remember a time when you were happy like that with your boyfriend—everyday seemed sunny whenever he called or came to see you. 

But that was a year ago. After a very messy breakup which resulted in him moving away and immediately dating someone else, you did your best to forget him and move on. Getting back into the dating pool was the first step. You recently just started reviving your accounts on dating apps, but so far, none of them have sufficed. 

You often wonder how your friend did it—how she managed to bag not one but two pro heroes. And they’re so hot and sweet! Every time you see their big arms wrapped around your friend or see their smiles directed her way or see them pick her up from your crib and know she’s going to spend her night getting pleasured beyond belief by both of them, you can’t help but be jealous. 

Don’t get it twisted. You’re so happy for your friend! She deserves partners who adore her…but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t bother you that you don’t have that kind of relationship for yourself. 

Your friend’s calming voice pulls you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. ”Just calm down. It’s going to go great! But if it ever goes sideways or if you really feel like you can’t go through with this, just make some excuse, like I almost burned our crib down. Then you can leave!” 

”I’m not doing that,” you huff. “Your men went through all the trouble of booking this blind date for me. The least I can do is try to get through it.” 

Bakugou and Kiri specifically handpicked your blind dates for you tonight. They barely told you anything about them though. The only thing you know is that they’re friends. “You’ll love ‘em, doll!” Kiri told you. “I promise! These guys are super manly!” 

“They’re whatever,” Bakugou said, which didn’t help you at all. But then again, Bakugou was never good at giving compliments…unless those compliments are directed at your friend. 

“Well, to do that, you’ll have to get out of that head of yours,” your friend critically says. “Girl, you’re always overthinking! You like hot as fuck tonight and your dates will think so to. Just think about how they may even take you home tonight to get a piece of that nice, fat a—“ 

”And I’m hanging up,” you immediately announce, cringing at her hysterical laughter. “I just met the guys and it’s our first date! I’m not gonna—“ 

”Excuse me?” A rather familiar voice you can’t place politely asks you. You turn around, preparing to give this man the boot, but all of the words in your throat die when you get a look at who’s standing behind you. 

He is much taller and hotter in person, your embarrassingly large poster in your bedroom not doing you much justice. His gray vest, slacks, and white button-up shirt are rather tight on his toned body, his pecs and biceps pushing up against the fabric. The cutest freckles adorn his cheeks, almost popping out like a pop-up photo in a children’s book due to how green his hair and eyes are. They remind you of emeralds. 

Izumi Midoriya aka Deku, pro hero #1, in the flesh, is your date tonight. He gives you a kind, toothy smile, his hands behind his back. ”Are you Y/N?” He asks. 

Your mind is frozen in a block of ice, all thoughts and words put on pause. Too stunned to speak, you just nod. “Oh, good!” He sighs, relieved. “I thought I’d gotten the wrong person and embarrassed the hell out of myself!” He sheepishly laughs before passing you a bouquet of the most beautiful pink and yellow roses out from behind him. “For you,” he says, a light blush coating his cheeks. “Shoto picked ‘em. He’ll be in here soon.” 

Shoto. As in Shoto Todoroki pro hero #3. Bakugou is at #2 while Kiri is #4. If all goes well, you and your friend will be living the life dating such popular pro heroes. 

Wordlessly, you take the flowers, but not wanting to look like a crazy woman, you give Deku a smile. You just can’t believe this. You feel like you’re dreaming. “Y/N?” Your friend asks. “Helloooo? You there?” 

Brought back down to reality, you keep your eyes on Deku while you speak into your phone that you remember is pressed to your ear. “I’ve gotta go,” you abruptly say. “M-My dates are here.” Your friend just giggles. “Enjoy,” she sings. “Give me all the details when you get back.” 

Once she hangs up, the door to the restaurant opens. In walks your second date and Shoto is just as tall as Deku. He walks elegantly on long legs, his frame leaner than Deku’s, but muscled and toned. His black suit fits perfectly on him, giving him a dashing look that his long, red-and-white-toned hair tied in a ponytail only adds to. He looks like a damn fairytale prince coming to save you. 

His eyes meet yours and you swear he’s just as gorgeous in person. The burn scar over his eye only adds to his appearance, giving him a very sexy but unique look. He smiles at you and the air is immediately stolen from your plump, soft body. 

“You found her?” He asks, coming over to the bar to meet you. “I’m sorry, I was busy trying to find a parking spot. This restaurant is quite popular.” Deku nods, laughing. “That’s what it said on the website!” He chuckles. 

“Y/N, right?” Shoto asks, his silky voice directed at you. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Your friend told us all about you, but she left out how beautiful you are.” He sticks his hand out for a shake, his ringed fingers making you think of nasty things. You wouldn’t mind them wrapping around your neck or sliding inside of your—

”T-Thank you,” you say, finally finding your voice. You tentatively shake Shoto’s hand, shivering slightly at the wave of electricity you feel coursing through you at his touch. “I know who you are. Y-You’re Deku and Todoroki, pro heroes #1 and #3.” 

The duo share a look, both stunned. A mischievous smile stretches across Shoto’s face. “Someone’s a fan,” he teases. 

Deku rolls his eyes, criticizing his boyfriend. “Don’t tease her, Shoto,” he critically says before turning to you. “That, we are! I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. We’re really just normal people…who happen to have quirks.” He looks worried that the fact that they’re famous may make you feel weird, but that isn’t even half of it. How the fuck are you supposed to act normal around such hot men?! 

Swallowing harshly and taking a much-needed sip of your cocktail, you start to feel somewhat confident from the vodka. “Well, it’s nice to meet you both,” you giggle. “Should we sit?” 

Deku offers his hand to help you slide off of the barstool with your drink and flowers. You feel his hand lightly ghost the small of your back and your skin suddenly bursts with warmth like it’s on fire. Your dress only somewhat smooths your back rolls which most men aren’t too fond of. But Deku doesn’t seem to mind.

He leads you over to a table near a window overlooking the sidewalk and decorated with two candles. Shoto takes the chair you’re about to pull out and does it for you. “Please, allow me.” He patiently waits for you to sit down before pushing you in and then taking his seat with Deku across from you. 

Such a gentleman. You love gentlemen. They make your heart pound and your inner thighs clench together to avoid the throbbing sensation you feel already coming. 

The two handsome pros sit across from you, their attractive features illuminated by the candlelight. Luckily, your waitress comes over to get your appetizer orders and fetch the pros drinks before wandering off to put in your orders. 

Shoto clears his throat and is the first to fill the silence. “Sooo, Y/N,” he begins, your name sounding like smooth butter on his lips, “how in the world are you single as pretty as you are?” Heat coats your face at his boldness. You’re not used to receiving such compliments. 

“Shoto!” Deku growls, elbowing Shoto in the arm. “We’ve only known her for, like, five minutes!” Shoto side-eyes his boyfriend. “So you don’t think she’s pretty?” He deadpans, smirking at the bright red blush that coats Deku’s freckled cheeks. 

“You’ve got game,” you giggle, earning a proud smile from Shoto. “Well, I recently decided to start dating again after a breakup a year ago. I missed nights like these, getting dressed up and going out with handsome men.” 

You watch surprise alight in the couple’s eyes that quickly melt into something more intimate and passionate. Because now they know that you’re just as attracted to them as they are to you…so far. The shift makes you feel hot all over and you cross your legs. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

You shift slightly in your seat, clearing your throat. “S-So what about you two?” You softly stutter. “How long have you two been together? How come you’re looking for a third?” 

The two share a look and then a smile that grinds at your insides. You remember smiling that way at your person–so in love and content. ”Well, after five years of dating, we decided to venture into new experiences,” Deku answers. “We’ve both been interested in having a poly relationship for a while now, so we decided to give it a try.” 

He tells you that he and Shoto met in UA High and were friends at first before slowly becoming more. It’s a story fit for a friends-to-lovers book. Concern laces Shoto’s pretty, multicolored eyes. “And this is still okay with you? Seeing two men at the same time?” 

You want to correct him that they aren’t just any men. They’re pro heroes. Celebrities. They have status and notoriety. You would be hella stupid to say no to this. “Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve never dated two guys at the same time, but it never hurts to try something new.” 

Other than their perks as celebs, their easy-going personalities and warm nature make it especially hard to refuse them, so you feel comfortable saying yes. 

Shoto smiles, pleased with that answer, and raises his glass of red wine. “Cheers to new experiences then.” Deku raises his wine glass while you raise your cocktail before leaning to clink glasses and taking a sip in unison. You feel much better already. 

Deku suddenly gasps, his emerald eyes twinkling in excitement. “You have an All Might keychain too?” He gasps, staring down at your phone. “That’s so cute! I still carry mine around as a lucky charm.” Shoto rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, chuckling into his wine. “He can sit here all night talkin’ ‘bout All Might. Just warning you.” 

You giggle and tell Deku that you bought it at Hot Topic when the store was celebrating All Might’s birthday. A text from your friend asking if you’re okay suddenly pops up on your phone sitting face up on the table. You turn it over to be respectful to your dates but realize too late the phone case underneath. 

There, the chibi versions of Deku, Shoto, and All Might stare back at you. It was a gift from Kiri for your birthday, but now, you want to curse him for giving it to you and yourself for forgetting that it was on the back of your phone. 

Your dates catch it immediately and mirth alights behind their eyes. Shoto smirks at you, stifling his laughter. “You weren’t quick enough for that,” he chuckles. You flush with embarrassment and unbeknownst to you, Shoto adores it. Your skin glows increasingly more in the candlelight, making him want to kiss, suck, and lick every part of your beautiful skin. 

Deku is in the same boat as his boyfriend. He’s been admiring your beauty all night, but unlike Shoto, he isn’t as bold or as brazen, so he instead shifts the conversation to something else to distract him from how tight his slacks have gotten. 

“So you are a fan?” He excitedly gasps. “Wow! I can’t say I’ve ever been on a date with a fan of mine before.” Shoto’s lazily shift to yours, peering deep into you. “Me either.” 

You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly ashamed. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I’ll put it away if it makes you feel weird.” You go to put your phone in your purse, but Shoto’s hand stops you. You pause, your pulse jumping as you feel his long piano fingers brush your knuckles. 

“No, no, don’t,” he protests. “It’s cute. I just wonder out of the two of us which one’s your favorite.” He winks at you with that sapphire blue eye, teasing you. ”Todoroki, come on,” Deku sighs. ”Don’t embarrass her.” 

Maybe it’s the cocktail or the romantic atmosphere or gaining the undivided attention of the two sexy pros sitting across from you, but something inside of you flares up, filling you with confidence. “It’s actually both of you,” you shyly confess. 

The two look at you, stunned. “I’ll admit, I was more of a Dynamight fan until I saw you two with those kids at that charity event for the children’s hospital. I love men who are good with kids.” You flash them a bashful yet endearing smile that makes them throb and ache down below. 

“Ah, I remember that event,” Deku says, reminiscing. “That was a year ago for Christmas.” He suddenly leans in, a secretive smile on his face. “Don’t tell him this, but you definitely wouldn’t be a fan of Dynamight after learning he’s horrible with children.” 

He and Shoto proceed to tell you about when he was forced to dress as an elf for the charity event and he fussed at every kid who instead told him what they wanted for Christmas and tugged on his fake elf ears. “We had to stop him from blowing up the Christmas tree,” Shoto says, watching with adoration as you laugh into your appetizer. 

The waitress finally returns to take your main course orders and refills your water. When she leaves, Deku and Shoto once again give you their attention. “So tell us more about you, Y/N,” Deku says, and your heart somersaults at hearing your name on his lips. 

Despite their laser beam-like gazes in the candlelight and the vodka making you feel slightly unbalanced, you do as they say. 

You talk about anything and everything, starting with your job. You tell them what you studied in school and what you do now for work. Shoto looks impressed while Deku damn near chokes on his appetizer when you tell him ”An assistant at NASA?” He gasps. “That’s amazing! So if we ever fight an alien from a distant planet or something, can we call on you to fix us up with a rocket?” 

It’s a bad joke and you laugh, finding his boyish nature oh-so cute. Shoto rolls his eyes, popping an oyster into his mouth. “Again with the alien talk,” he huffs. You look away to your cocktail, stifling a smile. “You too?” Shoto asks while Deku laughs. “You really believe in those little green men?” 

You smirk at him, pointing at him with your fork. “This is coming from a guy who shoots ice and fire from his hands,” you retort. Shoto is shocked (and turned on) by your wittiness, as is Deku. They like a girl who is playful like that. “Touché,” he replies. 

Once your dinner finally arrives at the table, the convo shifts to food and drinks. Deku is fond of spicy miso ramen and mocktails while Shoto prefers black coffee and soba. You tell them your favorites and non-favorites, resulting in somewhat talking about bubble tea and how you’ve never tried it before. 

Deku looks like you just admitted to murder, pausing mid-bite with his grilled halibut. ”You’ve never tried bubble tea before?” He gasps. “Oh, you’re missing out. It’s literally one of the best creations in the world!” 

Shoto shakes his head, biting into his plank steak. “He’s exaggerating, but it is quite good.” You take a sip of your cocktail, feeling the effects of the vodka taking over. Everything is bubbly and warm, and a rush of newfound confidence courses your veins. 

“Guess you two will have to teach me then.” You don’t mean for it to sound so suggestive, but then again, you don’t care either. Because the two men are immediately caught on your hook, their gazes intense and warm. 

The flirting doesn’t stop there. Throughout dinner, they are more than happy to show you that they are very romantically interested in their beautiful date—you. Deku is more lowkey and bashful, complimenting the shade of your dress and your earrings, while Shoto flat-out tells you how attractive he thinks you are. 

It takes its toll on you—all of this undivided attention—and you find yourself sweating from it. You’re not used to such genuine flirting and compliments. You don’t know if going home with them is on the table, but if they ask, you won’t say no. That you know much. 

You know deep down that sex on the first date isn’t exactly socially acceptable or appropriate in some cases, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that. However, there is a part of you that is saying “no, don’t”. The voice of reason. The romantic part of you that wants to get to know the two pros and see where things take you. 

Other than flirting, you talk about other things: favorite heroes, their time at UA, favorite missions, vacation spots, etc. They also talk about Warner Bros apparently wanting to make a movie about Deku. “I heard they’re thinking about casting Tom Holland,” he sighs. “He looks nothing like me! But he is a good Spider-Man and is apparently Hollywood’s heartthrob.” 

You giggle, chomping down on your shrimp salad. “He’s cute or whatever, but I prefer my men much bigger and taller, like Jason Momoa.” You practically salivate at the mental image of him. 

Shoto and Deku share a look, smirking at each other. “Is he your type of man?” Shoto asks, a playful glint in his eye. 

The two look at you, quietly eager to know your answer. Your smile fades when you realize you just walked into a trap. But there’s no turning back now…might as well go all in. “Kinda,” you answer, unaware of how airy your voice sounds. “But I do like my men with long hair and pretty eyes.” 

Your eyes trail over Deku’s ever-green eyes that you could stare into forever and Shoto’s long hair you want to trail your fingers through. You want to make it known that you like them. You want them to see the fantasies running wild in your head of you together in bed, in the dark, both of them pressed against you, kissing and touching, all passion and energy transferring from one body to the other. 

Suddenly, you feel shy again and wither slightly. “Sorry,” you giggle. “It’s the vodka talking.” Shoto fixes you with a look that damn near peels you out of your dress. “Let it talk,” he softly demands. “We really like talking to you, Y/N.” 

Deku nods, a slight blush coating his cheeks. “You know, we couldn’t believe we were on a date with someone as gorgeous as you?” He sheepishly asks. “Not that Kaachan and Kiri would fix us up with someone we weren’t attracted to, but seeing you for the first time…” He pauses, blowing air out of his cheeks as if he’s winded. “It was a trip.” 

You flush from his words and genuine tone, knowing that he’s serious. They really think you’re that beautiful? “So would you say I’m your type of girl?” You boldly ask, running your hands lightly over your pudgy sides and down your jiggly thighs under the table.

In Shoto’s eyes, you see nothing but a passion so bold and open that it makes you melt. “I don’t think that even needs to be questioned, doll. You have a beautiful personality. Your looks just add to our attraction for you.” The pet name rolling off of his lips has you ready to get the check and go home with them. 

“Don’t mind his bluntness, but he’s right,” Deku adds. “Anyone would be stupid to have fumbled someone like you.” You see the same genuine passion and enthusiasm in his eyes too. There isn’t a stitch or slip of the truth in their faces. They are dead serious. 

You sit up a little straighter, tightening your hands clasped together in your lap. “Thank you,” you shyly say. “And for the record, any girl would be lucky to have two partners like you two on her arm.” 

They look as if they want you to be that “girl” whose arms they are on. 

The rest of the dinner goes by in a flash. Time really does fly when you’re having fun. You finish your food and they demand you put your credit card away, instead paying for your meal. They then walk you outside and sit on a bench near the restaurant window as you order your Lyft. 

They did offer to drive you home, but you politely declined. Despite your immense attraction to them, they are still strangers…at least right now, they are, but you hope that changes soon. 

While Shoto takes your right, Deku sits down on your left, putting you smack dab in the middle. “We’ll wait here till your Lyft comes. We don’t mind at all! It means more time with you.” You bashfully smile under the moonlight and stars in the clear night sky. The cocktail is starting to fade a bit, so you feel rationality start to sink in. 

A comfortable silence descends upon you three, only filled by the idle chatter of passersby and cars. When you check your phone, your driver is announced to be arriving in five minutes. “I really enjoyed tonight,” you say before clearing your throat. “I think this is one of the best dates I’ve had in a long time.” 

Deku smiles, looking overjoyed to hear this. “We’re happy to hear that. We had a great time with you too.” His fingers, placed on the bench, slightly brush yours. Electricity explodes in your veins at his soft touch. 

Shoto hums in agreement, nodding. ”Hopefully, you’d be up for some more great times with us.” You blink at him, realizing what he means. He wants another date. Deku does too judging from the way his fingers inch closer to yours. 

Taking things one step further, you move your hand closer to his until your hand is on top of his. You hear him physically exhale as if his self-control is jumping out the window. 

“Well, yes,” you answer Shoto, “but you’d need my number for that.” Your tone is soft and flirty, your lashes framing your eyes as you stare up into Shoto’s handsome face. 

Catching on, he playfully smirks down at you. “Then I guess we have a dilemma,” he says, his voice silky and smooth. “So how do we solve that?” You button your lip, mostly because you’re afraid of saying something stupid and ruining the magic of this moment. 

“I guess we’ll just have to compromise, won’t we, Midoriya?” He sighs, acting defeated. Deku catches on to the game and plays the role too, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “I guess so. After all, we still need to get you to try mochi.” 

You’ve never smiled so wide in your life. By the time the two finish putting their contacts in your phone, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Your heart is thundering and you feel like you can fly, high on the fact that these two heartthrobs want you. 

Your Lyft finally arrives in a white SVU and rolls up to the curb. “There’s my ride,” you breathlessly announce, standing with the two. The window rolls down to show your female driver. “Y/N?” The driver calls. You nod, waving at her. 

Deku and Shoto walk over with you to the car, protective and chivalrous. “Here, I’ll get the door for you,” Deku says, opening the back door for you. You thank him, but before you can slip into the seat, you suddenly feel his and Shoto’s pairs of soft lips on either side of your face. Your brain short circuits and the entire world disappears. 

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” Shoto whispers into your ear. 

“We hope to see you again,” Deku adds, his voice just as soft and intoxicating.

’You will,’ you think. You want to see them again more than anything. Already, you’re grieving the loss of such a perfect night, desperate for the chance to have one again with them. 

They then step back and allow you to crawl in, no doubt staring at your ass as you do. But then you stop and look back at them, willing to show some of your cards to end the night. “You know, for the record,” you begin, “you two are my type of men. And I’d really like to see you again too.” 

Suddenly, the air between you shifts. You can feel it in the way Deku and Shoto stare at you like they want so much to get in the car and go home with you. 

But they don’t. Instead, they leave you with something that will suffice you for days to come. Shoto leans in first, his hand on the top of the car as he peers into the backseat and presses his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It’s enough to send those butterflies flapping haphazardly in your stomach as his thumb softly caresses your cheek. 

But as soon as it happens, it’s over. Then it’s Deku’s turn. He also leans down to kiss you, the taste of wine and mint gum heavy on his tongue as it lightly touches yours. You stamp back a moan, your toes curling in your shoes at the soft, intoxicating kiss. 

Their kisses are the best ones you’ve ever had. 

Finally, Deku pulls away and peers at you, his eyes holding a promise of what’s to come next if you venture down this road with them. “We’d like that,” he pants. “Call us when you get home, okay?” 

Closing your parted mouth to avoid looking insane, you nod and try to recover. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer. “I will.” Deku smiles as Shoto reaches in to kiss your hand. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You say goodnight and Deku closes the door, allowing the driver to finally drive off in the direction of your home. You watch the two standing on the curb watching you go, your heart still hammering away and your skin alive with flames. You lightly touch your lips, still feeling theirs on them. 

The first thing you do is put in your AirPods and call your friend, a stupid smile stretching across your face. She picks up on the second ring. “You’re alive!” She giddily says. “So what happened? Did you guys kiss? I got your Lyft notification, so I’m guessing you didn’t go home with them.” 

“No,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “And yes, we did kiss. And I got their numbers.” 

Your friend nearly blows out both of your eardrums as she squeals into your ears. “Ooooh, the boys are gonna be so happy!” She squeals. “So tell me everything! How was the date?” 

With your smile growing wider, you add your two contacts to a group chat to thank them for the date tonight with emojis that you added to their names yourself: 

Deku 🥦💚, Shoto ❄️🔥❤️

Thank you for tonight!

“It was everything,” you dreamily sigh. 

THE END.

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Fourth Wing Men HCs: nicknames for him

Includes: Bodhi Durran, Garrick Tavis

A/n: I haven’t wrote some headcannons in a HOT minute, but me and @garricks4thwingqueen have been conspiring and inspired me to take a whack at it again. These got a smidge long, so I will make a part 2 with more characters, and other scenarios, but you know who had to start with! I also included some AI pics I’ve been cooked up that are mashes of my fancasts ideas for the characters. I have the hardest times visualizing a lot of characters and places in stories and sometimes the AIs I’ve seen all look alike or aren’t itching the right part of my brain. Disclaimer: I tried to take into consideration book accuracy, but AI is AI and I only dabble w it on my phone. So I’ll take what I can get. Skin tones, hair, proportions may not be perfect. These just personally help get a better concept, and I find fun to make, and anddd risking forgetting about a free 7 day trail from time to time 🕳️🤸‍♀️ *muah* enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking/smoking (if u squint), suggestive content

Bodhi Durran

Bo/Boh, beau, bowie, Bo Bo, babe, love

Xaden and him are maternal cousins. While the firstborn always had the weight of responsibility growing up being an heir by his parents. The younger cousin was always ‘coddled’ by his. Though he adored his family, he hated how they always doted on him. Mainly because of how much his older cousin and his best friend would tease him about it.

Xaden and Garrick started cooing “Bowie” and “Bo Bo” at him when they were 12, he was 11.

“Bowie, don’t forget to write to me.” “Bowie, be good for your uncle.” “Oh Bo Bo don’t you look so handsome today!” They’d snicker to him under their breaths when he’d arrive at the fortress when his mom would drop him before flying out to an outpost. Watching how his cheeks flushed red, and he had tight balled fists pressed at his sides.

Once the doors closed, after formal introductions with his Uncle and lingering personal staff were done, and once the adults a room away—he would hurl one of his clenched fists at their shoulders.

Starting a playful brawl amongst the three

Spoiler alert: Bo Bo back then lost once or twice…maybe a handful of times

Then as awkward teenagers when problems were simpler the three of the pubescent boys discovered churam and drinking. Bodhi started unironically calling himself Bo Bo and Bowie, mockingly teasing himself as a ‘bit’.

The young men were sat around a fire in the clearing to the outside of Riorson House. Xaden and Garrick in a heated debate over a petty topic. “Bo Bo can’t comprehend what’s going on right now.” He would say, exaggerating and scratching his the top of his head. It had been effective for the most part to ease the tension between his friends

Now from time to time, he’ll still do it especially if you’re present. He always thought you looked cute as you shook your head with a crooked smile spread across your face when he did it

Sometimes fhd guys would find him doing something badass, you’ll hear triumphant whooping from Xaden and Garrick, endearingly using the nicknames they called him as a child

“Go Bowie!” “Bo Bo that was fucking awesome!” “Bowie! Bowie! Bowie!”

But if anyone else besides the select few called him those names, he’d glare daggers at them. Like the time Ridoc tried to call him Bo Bo during lunch while the group was joking around

Bodhi’s boyish grin disappeared instantaneously. “If you ever call me that, I will rip your tongue out.”

The first time he heard you call him Bowie tho, he nearly melted. It was one of the first times you slept over with him and he had to get up early for a leadership meeting

You propped up on elbow, using your other hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Do you have to go, Bowie?” A small pout on your lips watching him get dressed

His other pet names from you were selective, usually just calling him Bo/Boh, but your favorites were Babe and Love

Babe being the one you leaned towards the most

especially when you would catch him doing something ridiculous or he’d press your buttons. Or just when you wanted something

“Babe? Are you kidding me?” “Babe stop!”

“Babe can you get me another drink, please?” You asked, looking up from your lashes with puppy dog eyes. He folded every time no matter if you were closer to the serving station or bar. How could he say no when you gave him that look? Not caring, flipping all his friends off as they’d give him knowing smiles.

He was a simp for you

Love was usually reserved for tender moments with him. When you’d notice he’d be having a bad day, or to calm him down when you’d notice he was fuming silently beside you at something going on

Intertwining your fingers with his giving a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright, Love.”

Or holding his cheeks, bringing him to eye level with you. “I’m here, Love. Can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”

Sometimes you broke out the corny double entendre of beau. Very select people would get it, but you thought it was great

Mainly you’d be out to the taverns with your friends when you’d use it. Usually when a girl would approach him, and you’d try to hide your jealousy tho it was plain as day

“He’s actually my beau.” You’d say, a sinisterly sweet smile on your face when a girl tried to introduce herself. Your hand twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. Bodhi would always shiver from the gesture, trying to contain his arousal at your possessiveness

Then later in the night, he’d pin you to the wall of his room. Pressing feverish kisses up the column of your throat. “Are you gonna show me all the way I’m your beau?” He muttered before grazing the delicate skin with his teeth

Garrick Tavis

Gare, Tavis, Gary, Gare Bear, Hon/Honey, Sir

His parents tried to call him Gary at one point growing up, but he always ignored them or begged them not to call him that. It always sounded so stupid to him

Garrick was blunt, dry, and straight to the point not caring for nicknames. Only really preferring to be called by his name or Gare on occasion by his friends and acquaintances. His last name an even better alternative than a nickname

But Xaden, Imogen, and Bodhi took a sick pleasure in all the creative corny nicknames his parents would try to make a thing for him growing up.

“I think we oughta get Gary’s input?” Imogen leaned her chin in her hand as they all discussed weekend plans after school looking over at the towering young man. The side of her mouth crookedly lilting upward, knowing she struck a nerve. Garrick could already feel his eye twitch, clenching his quill as he acted like he hadn’t heard them a few feet away at the table in the library.

“It seems Gare Bear’s not in the mood today.” Xaden would casually lean back in his chair, smirking, and watching his best friend stroll into the dining room late for dinner time after a terrible day

Which would result in Garrick walking by, and tipping his chair back causing the Riorson to flail and fall backwards. “Relax asshole,” Xaden hissed, rubbing his head.

To this day they still called him the silly names. Taking immense pride when you had picked up on the memo, and started to call Garrick the names he despised. Especially because you two weren’t each others favorite people at first

The first time it happened, it was when Garrick pissed you off. He had been criticizing all your sparring movements, and you had enough. “Sorry we can’t all be perfect like you, Gare Bear.” You’d sneer, watching the irritation form on his face.

“Do not call me that.” He’d glower, but you’d just smile brightly. “Whatever you say…Gare Bear.”

Seeing how it got under his skin, from that moment on you’d always call him just to pester him. Enjoying the glare he’d shoot your way or awaiting for whatever witty remark he’d reply

Eventually once you two started getting along, you called him his first name, being more considerate towards his feelings. Garrick’s chest filling with disappointment as he awaited the usual Gare Bear falling from your pretty lips.

“Hey Garrick,” it was a rare moment when you found him by himself. None of your mutual friends around for once, and one of the first interactions you had alone. “What?” He looked up from what he doing. “I said hey?” You gave him a weird look. “But you called me Garrick.” He said in disbelief. “That’s your name isn’t it?” “You always call me Gare Bear tho.”

That’s when you realized he secretly liked it despite him trying to act annoyed at you.

Then when you had officially started dating, he had to get used to fact you loved calling him all these terms of endearment. Deep down, loving how you could make him become bashful by your words

“Here you go, Honey.” Leaning down, kissing his cheek, setting down a dish of apple crisp in front of him. You knew how much he liked the dessert and grabbed an extra one when getting your dinner. Garrick’s cheeks tinged red and chuckled appreciatively, “you’re the best.” His friends just silently stared as if you two had three heads. “What’s the matter?” You asked the group unphased, taking a seat. “You broke him.” Imogen replied in awe.

You had changed his perception on being called nicknames. Even letting it slide when his friends poked fun at him with the once despicable nicknames

Out of all the nicknames you called him, his favorite by far was the one you’d use in the bedroom.

“Please,” you begged, while sitting on your knees. “Please what?” Garrick gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You gulped, “please Sir.” A cruel smirk on his face, pressing a small kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

[kodamaghost00]

30 Monty Gator Headcanons!!

——————————————————

[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw,Fluff,Smut

It’s also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys! You are a Technician in these scenarios!

——————————————————

Let’s begin!

He enjoys talking to you but won’t initiate any conversations because he thinks you will get bored of him eventually.

He for sure loves physical touch and sometimes purrs when you cuddle him in his greenroom.

He’s a massive animatronic and will be gentle with you due to his size.

He hates his original name “Montgomery” according to him it is “A wacky name for a bass player” and that’s why he prefers his nickname.

He’s very jealous of you. If anyone seems like a threat to him he will stand next to you wrapping his tail around you.

If he is having an outburst again the other band members and staff would call you to calm him down. He seems to only listen to you when he’s in that state.

He’d definitely have a picture of you two in his greenroom.

He was the biggest fan of Bonnie and definitely had a plushie of him in his room.

He has the biggest marking kink you could ever imagine. He can’t go one session without giving you at least two bite marks.

He is very dominant and also demands this position. Every time you try to initiate something he’d quickly turn it around so he’s the one on top of you.

He would use the pet names “Rockstar” and “Babe” a lot.

He gets easily attached to things you give him. Even if it’s something as simple as a dandelion you picked up before work, he’d keep it forever…

He likes to pick you up and he will make cheeky comments about your height. (Even if you’re just 1cm shorter than him).

He loves to edge you until your legs shake from frustration and he’s always teasing you about it.

He loves seeing you get all flustered when he compliments you.

He’d be the type to say “Did ya’ do somethin with your hair? Looks great…” even though you did nothing new with your looks. It makes you laugh every time.

He’d have a hard time showing you affection through words so he likes to leave you little notes that say “have a good day/night” or “I hope we’ll see each other soon.”

When you’re working with him in Parts & Service he’d always look at you with admiration. He doesn’t know a thing about his mechanics so he’s really impressed with your abilities.

Sometimes on your breaks or after your shift you go to gator golf to see Monty and occasionally play golf with him. He’s obviously a really good player so it’s hard to compete with him.

Once you won a game and he just pushed you into the lakes and laughed historically as you tried to get out.

You tried to get back on him and do the same but he was too heavy to be pushed away. So he just jumped to the side and you fell down into the lake yourself. He laughed and said “Haha! Karma is a bitch, rockstar!”

He would also enjoy taking you around the Pizzaplex to places where you weren’t before.

When you cuddle with him he always puts his head on top of yours.

Sometimes you two get too caught up in a conversation that he forgets to charge and he goes on standby mode. (Freddy comes to help you if that happens).

He knows your work schedule better than you do yourself. “Monty when do I have to start working again tomorrow?”. “8pm till 6am. You have the night shift tomorrow.”

He lets you put on his glasses and eventually gets you a pair of them in the gift shop.

He loves to hear you beg for pleasure. He will overstimulate you so much that you can only say his name and beg for more.

With enough convincing and reassurance he’ll open up to you about his feelings. And once he does he’s extremely grateful that you don’t judge him.

If he’d ever hurt you by accident he wouldn’t forgive himself. But he’ll be harsh if you want him too.

When he has an outburst and you get called to handle it he’ll say stuff like “Why would ever want to be with me!? Don’t you see that I’m a monster…?” while his voice cracks down while he sobs in your arms.

——————————————————

Thank you all for reading my little Headcanons!(人´∀`) It’s been my first time listing them and I’m quite happy how it turned out! Perhaps I’ll even do more Fnaf SB characters?

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

[celestie0]

so your insecure about your smut I hear ? if it makes you feel better I still mentally jerk it in memory of the following:

kickoff chapter 6 particularly when reader’s collapsed over the sink and gojos still on his knees behind her just WATCHING and then when their eye fucking eachother in the mirror and readers hand is reached behind to grab the back of his head THATS SO SEXY

the tension in chapter 8 i know there was only a proposition of smut but when it was stripped away I think that’s when I fell in love with the series because the slow burn is just everything - disclaimer I don’t jork it to that I just like the scene

The duration of kickoff chapter 11 couch scene 👌. My stomach does the thing every time, dry humping is elite, and the high school in love-ness between them 😭I’m throwing up

THE IHM SNEAK PEAKS

I refuse to believe you think those are bad as well like tf???? And not just the lazy morning sex that had me bust a load but the death row meal comment??????? Making out while doing calculus in his head so not to get a boner???? And for someone who’s not a fan of dirty talk like babe come on, the way you capture all the different sexy aspects of that sexy man like the vulgarity had me HOT and then his dumbass down bad-ness just UGh the need to put a baby in him right now

anyway that deserved its own paragraph but then obviously there’s works with smut as the actual premise

L&L specifically the bj scene I think you awakened my praise kink with that one - btw will we ever get a part 2 because I’m pretty sure that plan fell through but just letting you know I’m all up for seconds, no pressure if it’s not a part of ur agenda though

Round the clock.

actually hold up let me elaborate on these above two points in my full opinion because I really want you to understand this, the tropes/pairings/dynamics which your brain births are so fucking hot that the smut scene is instantly made good even if it’s not your most proud part of the writing process, this links to the common knowledge which ihm reader preached in the recent chapter- men will get hard to anything - but unfortunately it’s not so easy as a woman, personally that’s why I tend to resort to reading cause there’s nothing more psychologically immersing and of course the point of fanfiction is we’re already in love with our husband gojo so just add a little sexy lore ie. older, boxer, babysitter and babe I’m already halfway there cause of the quality of your ideas and writing, smut is only part of the experience and it’s not necessarily the most important

Last but not least that one domestic drabble you wrote I know it’s kind of a pwp moment but the position wifey reader and toji did it in omg and when he called her a slut and when he had her cockdrunk and babbling and begging for a baby 😫✋

honorable mention because like I said smut isn’t everything: the scene where ihm Gojo is shirtless fixing the kitchen sink and drinking oj from a mug and then when he picked up reader while she’s in a measly silk gown … yeah I jork it to that😔

in conclusion ur smut makes me horny🙂 so I think your sufficiently successful in achieving its primary purpose, please don’t be so hard on yourself and I hope you can learn to find more self satisfaction in these parts of your work where you lack confidence and see it in a better light

<333

ok hi anon im back! lol

first of all thank u sm. some people might think a fanfic author would desire a good dicking down from their favorite fictional character and a blunt shortly thereafter. but no. THIS is all a fanfic author truly wants.

HAHAH no but in serious you’re so sweet to point outtt these little details i could sob :”) i was cheesing so hard in the morning when i read it haha!!

i always forget the kickoff ch6 party bathroom scene happened xd sometimes i get thrown into a state of shock when i remember i wrote it. and that’s the thing!! i was so excited n giddy to write it bc it was back when i didnt think too hard about my writing haha. somewhere along the line i just became so self conscious ab smut :( but anywho yes the couch scene in kickoff ch11 had me screaming while i was writing it i was so excited to eventually post it so i’m so happy you enjoyed ittt aaa :”)

STOP bc i have SO much smut planned for ihm 😭😭 ranging from borderline crack smut to passionate lovemaking loool i can’t wait to get to those parts of the series but ouf yea them insecurities be haaaaard. i think i just don’t see a lot of representation of the kind of smut i like to write in the fandom very much so it gets me second guessing 🥲 like idk i like dirty talk but it has to be kinda on the nose?? like the whole part where ihm gojo says the thing ab doing calculus in his head so he doesnt get a hard-on 😂😂 like idk it’s so cute n hot to me in my head but it’s kinda niche to my preferences haha

sorry i’m rambling but like ugh same w the morning sex scene i wanna get to that part sooo bad but i just hope i don’t second guess that scene once i get to it 😩😩 bc oh my the way my coochie was clenching the whole time while writing it LOL i sob

aw yeahh i was supposed to do a pt2 for l&l but hmm i kinda got bored of the concept. it was my first major oneshot smut n like aaa i like it but :0 i think it does stand good alone as just one part

thanks my dear :”) i agree i think…well, i have a hard time giving myself credit for anything usually haha, but i do think that the character dynamics i created outside of i guess the smutty stuff rlly helps? i guess its kinda like a buffer when i get into writing smut bc im like oh yknow even if this isnt the hottest thing my readers have read i hope that they enjoy it bc they like my versions of gojo xd so you’re so sweet for validating me on that HAHAHA

also stooooop i love that scene in ihm. the one where he picks her up effortlessly while she’s on all fours in her grandma nightgown on the floor 🤣🤣 idk if this is so hyperspecifically arousing but like the thought of sporty muscular gojo having just come back from a run n he’s manhandling vintage silk nightgown-wearing reader while she’s has barely awoken from sleep is so cute n silly n hot to me. sorry it sounds like im jerking myself off here but i just love ihm gojo sm honestly i would like to fuck him until his balls look like raisins :/

anywhooo you’re too sweet. like seriously. and i saw your follow up ask, an hour?? imma sob. i’m saving the link for this ask to look back on whenever i feel bad ab my smut writing abilities!! or just writing in general. i fear u may have saved me anon LOL i haven’t felt this excited to write smut in a while! i appreciate you :)) much love!

[deesseshesca]

Message from your spirit guide

Message from your spirit team

 Just a head up …. We love you 

Good afternoon, pretty souls, today I’m channeling your spirit guides. 

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION 

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

TW: DV, MENTION OF ABUSE 

PILE 1

You go ahead and purchase that Cartier bracelet that is not going to destroy your hard work. Make sure you wear it at the baby shower. We know how much you pray for your sister  regarding her fertility issue, your niece\nephew is on his/her way. And we are as excited as you. Don’t you dare overthink your body right now. You look amazing. Everyone is telling you so you better believe them. Ok you may not be at your dream weight but babe you must agree that you never looked so good. You better show off ! You told the whole truth and will be rewarded. I know you were scared to say it all because you felt like you messed up somewhere which is ok but that does not mean you deserve it. Yes, you agree to be in a relationship with him. But you did not agree to the mental abuse. You did not agree to the constant yelling, the name calling and disrespect. You did not sign for physical abuse. Whether or not you orgasm or not doesn't matter, if you did not want to do it, then nah. He did IN FACT abuse you. Let’s forget the couple slap here and there and the punches on the wall. People from his family want to drag you but everyone knows you are a good woman and did not deserve anything you were thru. We know it was an extremely stressful moment for you, but now you can sit back and relax. Everyone is congratulating you right now. Even the people on the street can’t wait but to compliment you on your glowing skin and amazing sense of style. But we know that it has been months, even years in the making. You decide to stand up when you had nothing but faith in YOU. The days that you had to stick to your diet. Stop eating your feelings. All the time you had to stick to a budget, so you can have this financial security. The hard work you did in uni so you can get the degree that got you this amazing job. Nothing grew overnight. Success looks so good on you ! The odd thing is you want more . You can see it because of the upgrade in your wallet. You went from fast food, to a five star restaurant.  You went from exam week to working in big cooperatives. But yet you want more. There are days where you feel so happy and extremely grateful for what you have but other times you fall into deep depression because you want more from life. People around you don’t get it. ‘’You went from HELL to HEAVEN’’. Not quite. There’s more for you out here. And your soul knows it and calls for it. So let’s do it. Don't let the doubtful people stop you. The success that you have at the moment, you did on your own. With very little support. So, what if you want more ? Go get it ! Stop waiting for validation when you are the standard. 

You are all about you right now. Focus on the future that you want for yourself. But people around you are calling selfish. I’m hearing ‘’ Why are you acting brand new ? Why are you so Hollywood all of the sudden ?’’. But you know better than to give those comments your attention. 

You may be a lawyer. Or a future one. You may want to start grad school. 

Advice from me : You don’t need a tower moment to know when a season is finished. If you want, go get it. That’s it, that’s all. 

What it is- Doochii

BIG SALE (CAD$)

General: 22 $

Love : 33 $

Mystery: 41 $

Message me to have the whole run down, ONLY 3 SPOTS (ONE OF EACH)

PILE 2

We heard you… We heard you but are you telling them Always talking in front of the mirror what you are going to tell them. To tell them to fuck off. Tell them they got you fucked up. But nah. You know better. They know better. That’s why they are always coming back because you never switch up. They did. They switch is not just in your head. They are abusing you and anybody with critical thinking can see it from a continent way. I know it may not look like it in 3D but you are actually doing it. Ok you may not have the greatest grade. Ok you may not have the richest boyfriend. Ok your business is not making a milli a year . But let me remind you who the fuck you is. Nobody's surprised when you succeed because you always do. That’s why when you fail or struggle you get way more reaction since they wish upon you. But everyone knows that you are way better than them. They laugh because you don’t have the greatest grade. You are literally in one of the hardest programs. They are making fun of you while they did not even make it to uni. They are making fun of your man for not having extremely abundant funds. Not knowing the way he wakes you up with grateful text all the time, gives the best orgasm, even when he is mad, never raises his voice, always opens the doors for you, will not go to sleep without calling you, will literally throw  his whole life away just to see you smile. And he is ACTUALLY studying in a very rewarding and respectful major. Like c’mon. Those girls are out here messing with men for some cash while having a side of beating, cheating and sprinkles of hella disrespect. Literally   begging to be heard. While he's literally blowing your phone when he is with his friend because he can’t have enough of you. Your business went from being an idea to making weekly orders. They don’t even have a business. I don’t even think they have an IDEA to bring to life. Except they mean remarks and mean mug face. Since it kills them to see you win all their life, they prefer to wish for your downfall. Instead of asking for advice, lord know you would have given them some. Really girl, they wish they were you. They will accept to change life with you quicker than then their men can last, if God ask them. Why are killing yourself to impress them ? It hurts to see you go the extra mile for people that would rather see you die than to help you. Out here giving your last cent to that one annoying friend that humiliates you in front of everyone. Out here helping your mom knowing them well that she would never nurture you, even if Jesus ask her ? You don’t have nothing to prove to those people, because you are not on the same level as them. So let’s get it together and move on. They are mad at you because you are actually working towards your dream life. They thought you would stay miserable with them forever, but you know better. So YOU did better. If they mad about it let them. They were not there, when you overthink every move, when you were uncertain, when you could not sleep because of anxiety and  when you would crash on your bed completely exhausted without real result but your dreams to motivate you to keep going. Do us a favor and act like the queen that you are. 

You have a habit of loud outbursts of energy when something excites you. You give me the vibe that look like Jade (aesthetic) but act like Cat from Victorious. 

You have been putting yourself out here. The fact that you are surprise by your success get me. People been waiting for you. I feel like you think you don’t deserve it, but all your customers are more than happy. They never had such a good product. I’m hearing this is the best _$ , I spend in my life’’. In school you said you will have a academic comeback and babe YOU DID ! Plus you have a man that is sweeter than anything. Literally goes to the gym, work, study and lives to love you. (Man does he love you) 

Rules - Doja Cat

BIG SALE (CAD$)

General: 22 $

Love : 33 $

Mystery: 41 $

Message me to have the whole run down ONLY 3 SPOTS (ONE OF EACH)

PILE 3 

We are behind you no matter what. But there's nothing we can do if you don’t act on it. You've been through a hard divorce with a very awful man. Intense narcissistic behavior. He made you believe in all his promises. You don’t have to explain yourself, we saw it coming. We also know that he was a fine con. He was all right at first. Everything a woman could wish for you got it emotionally and materially . People around you saw you guys as the ultimate couple goals. But he was hiding dark intentions. Disrespecting on a daily basis, humiliating a front of his colleague and requesting from you absolute submission and sexual intercourse when he felt like it. When you try to live you fear for your life with good reasons. You are a victim of military men. But you are not a victim of life. He mess you up so much, that your belief system is constant bad self talk. You don’t trust yourself with any decision even regarding that divorce. Knowing damn well he treated you like a piss of shit. How many times did he hold a gun at you ? How many time has he choke you ? How many times has he threatened to kill you, if you ever refuse to listen to him? Good looks and a good d were not good enough and will never be enough to deal with a deranged man.  Now, finally divorce, he is going around calling you cheater when you never did. Not that you never wanted too. Sometime you wanted im to feel as fuck as you did. But were too afraid of the repercussions. You literally have medical proof of STD’s he gave you. But God was he slick with it. Never laying hands on you but destroying everything around you. Never telling what to do or not do. Just warning you of how he would react if you did not act like he wanted. Never telling you he was cheating, just told you he needed space or asking for a threesome. Now here you are, years later. You rebuild your life on your own, brick by brick. Boundaries stronger than ever. You thought you over the self sabotage but damn is it biting you right back in front of that new man. The man of your dream. Is this one the real deal ? Or is it a trap ? You can’t take another heartbreak. But he is everything you need. There is a block coming from you. You know you are the problem. He knows you have a blockage that you are terrified to reveal and swear he will wait for you. Is that not something your ex-husband used to say before it all went south ? How can you actually trust your judgment with this one? Imagine if you are stopping him  from meeting the real one while he falls for the mess you are in. Please set yourself free. You got your divorce, you went to therapy, you develop strong boundaries but yet you are still bound to the past. You made a mistake, like all humans do. You deserve good things to happen to you. You have a way better judgment now than you did back then. Now, you actually know how to recognize a monster. You know damn well it ain’t him. Go for it, you deserve it. If it is too scary, set the pace, I swear he ain’t going anywhere. 

SELF SABOTAGE 

I was never there - Weeknd

BIG SALE (CAD$)

General: 22 $

Love : 33 $

Mystery: 41 $

Message me, to have the whole run down. ONLY 3 SPOT (ONE OF EACH)

PILE 4

There’s a lot of things we don’t understand about you. Your love for rap music and obsession with Nicki Minaj. We don't understand that you love to learn everything and anything. We don’t understand half of the things you chat about regarding chemistry, physics or whatever other science took over your heart. But we LOVE YOU SO MUCH. We support you every step of the way ! We can’t not wait for you to have that damn degree in science that makes you cry on school night but brings a sparkle in your eyes the second a person asks you a question about it. Sometimes we push random people around you to ask about the likelihood of a cell in a decade body or something like that so we can hear you speak for hours. It gives you a glow. You aura shine so bright when you are in the lab. Even your teachers are in awe of your dedication. I know you keep reminiscing about the good old times. When having A’s in your fav subject was as easy as closing your eyes. Now you spend hours just to understand one slide in the professor PowerPoint. It is useless to beat yourself up. You are deepening your understanding about one subject at the moment. It is ok if some parts of it are harder to understand than others. I must warn you it will not be easy. You will spend more time in the library than with your friends. You will spend most of your time in the school year stuck in your room away from your loving family. But don’t hurt yourself with guilt. We are not taking your disappearance as any form of disrespect. We are so supportive of you. We never knew such a beautiful bundle of joy and knowledge would ever be born in our lineage. You know, we are a family of lawyers, business man, psychologist and philosoĥer. Your parents may not get half of that you're saying. Your brother may roll his eyes sometimes when you go on about one specific detail that sparks your interest but they are all amazing by the way your brain works. Let me tell you this, you will succeed. You will get it. We will be waiting at the finish line, with flowers and gifts to celebrate the day you will be walking on the podium. As proud as you, because we know how much work you put into every step of the way. The lonely nights, the hard exam and way too big project . Also stop procrastinating and start developing some discipline. You are not here to succeed in your exam but to prepare for your future career. Is time to build some stamina.Don’t worry, I PROMISE YOU: NOTHING BAD IS COMING YOUR WAY. It may get a little gray here and there but we are protecting you from any evil. You can calm your anxiety and enjoy the journey. I won't let ANYONE get in the way of my favorite prodigy. You may not be realizing it but are living in one of your prayers. 

I LOVE YOUR SPIRIT FAMILY. GOD ! They are amazed by you. Literally anything you do is an event that needs to be accelerated. Since you first breath they were going coco about you.  I had a clear image about your spirit team. I see 3 chair. A lot of wealth around them. One of the chairs is a throne where an older man sits in power. He was the one speaking but everyone else shared that feeling. 

So high - Doja Cat

BIG SALE (CAD$)

General: 22 $

Love : 33 $

Mystery: 41 $

Message me to have the whole run down. ONLY 3 SPOTS (ONE OF EACH)

[icyg4l]

PAC: Sister-to-Sister Messages

As promised, I said that I would post messages this weekend in regard to Women’s History Month based on the results of yesterday’s poll. This reading will be all about sister-to-sister dynamics. I am so thankful for the support that I have been receiving for these readings. It’s much appreciated! 🤌🤌 Anyway, today is the last day of the five dollar flash sale!! All readings will be $5 today! Come get it if you want it!!! Without further ado, choose your sister duo.

*** Disclaimer: These readings are meant to uplift, relate to, and/or inspire women!

Left-to-Right (1-3): Chloe and Halle, Beyoncé and Solange, Tia & Tamera.

Pile 1: If you resonate with the photo of Chloe and Halle, then this is your pile. First of all, your potential hasn’t even peaked yet, Pile One. Your sister wants you to know that you should continue to pursue your dreams. I feel like you have the tendency to start stuff but not finish it. What’s that about? She’s noticed this since yall were young but probably thought you would’ve grown out of it. But she still thinks that you will prosper. Those who resonate with this pile seem to be the baby in the family. You may feel like your sister acts too much like your mother, but she just wants what’s best for you. I feel like your sister is very successful/accomplished & you may feel that pressure to follow her footsteps. But in reality, she just wants you to be you. Be an individual, babe. And the last message that I got from this pile was kind of funny. Your sister feels like you work too hard. Where’s your boo thang? You need to let some stress off with a sexual partner chile, especially if someone’s been putting in effort to talk to you. Give them a chance! Maybe you can find a creative spark from messing around with them! In the end, your sister is supportive of your creative pursuits. She just wants you to put in more effort.

Cards Used: The Star: King of Wands, Four of Cups, Prince of Wands, Page of Discs (RX), 3 of Discs.

extras: “you’re being uptight.” “i’d put my life on the line for you.” spotlight. errands. ADD. chronic lip licker. “you stole my clothes.” new wardrobe. a kiss on the cheek. pillows. voluptuous. chanel. argan oil. tree climbing. golf. tennis. pierced earlobe. “i didn’t get you anything, sorry.”

Pile 2: If you resonate with the photo of Beyoncé and Solange, this is your pile. Damn Pile Two, you’re quite the looker aren’t you? Your sister sees the physical growth that you’ve made in the past two years and she is in awe of it! You’re absolutely flawless dear! But don’t forget to hold onto your vision. I feel like this pile is in high school? Maybe a freshman in college. But you have a lot of admirers. I feel like your sister is younger than you & they feel like you’re not paying attention to her as you as you used to. She feels like you mistreat her, not necessarily on purpose. It may be because you’re so busy. She wants you to not forget about them. Your sister is proud of your pursuit of higher learning (if you’re in college). She is going to follow in your footsteps because of this. But make sure you keep your promises, babe. Go to that yogurt shop with her. Go shopping with her at the mall. Go to the movies. Hell, go to the park with her. Paint with her. Spend quality time with your sister so she can stop feeling this way!

Cards Used: Nine of Cups, Ace of Discs, Four of Discs, Five of Swords, 7 of Cups (RX), Princess of Cups, 10 of Discs.

extras: strawberry & banana smoothie. teenage dirtbag. furry boots. sweet treats. calming down after nightmare. salad. elephant lover. french tips. sparkles. ribbons. bows. “speak up, honey”. abbott elementary. “i want more you.” “honesty is everything.” “keep my secret.” conceited by remy ma.

Pile 3: Last but not least, if you resonate with the photo of Tia and Tamera, then this your pile. Aw, Pile Three, your sister regrets the last conversation y’all had. I feel like this conversation could have been about how personal choices affect loved ones, i.e. bringing around terrible dating partners/friends, not paying off debts in time. It also could have been a conversation about codependency or feeling smothered. It feels like your sister understands why you left; you wanted to put yourself first. It took her some time to realize that y’all can be separate and still have love for you. Y’all need time apart to grow. Do you have a twin, Pile Three? Or were you extremely connected to your sister on a soul level at some point? There will be some time for y’all to reconnect but just not right now. There’s some stubborn energy between the both of you but y’all will reconnect once there is momentum in the both of you guys’ lives. She doesn’t hate you for being independent, but she does hate the way things ended, Pile Three.

Cards Used: Eight of Cups, The World, Five of Swords, Four of Discs, Two of Wands, Nine of Discs, Strength, 7 of Wands.

extras: “i have the balls, you don’t.” “it’s my prerogative.” oil and vinegar. liv and maddie. perfectionism. credit card debt. “drink up.” doodlebob. responsibilities. the old days. unplugged cords. cauliflower. fake vegan. bad eyesight. chloe bailey. drinking water. messy bedroom.

[pedriache]

GAVI! GAVI! GAVI! fluff to angst perhaps where it’s their anniversary but something comes up on his part where he forgets to tell her he can’t make it so she’s left at the restaurant alone.. PERHAPS A TWO PARTER???? Lmk.

Too much to ask — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was your first anniversary. You’d been gushing over it to your friends for the past week, and it was finally here. So why was he not? You waited thirty minutes.. an hour.. an hour and a half and yet he still hadn’t arrived. It’s not until you receive a text asking why you weren’t home that it fully clicks. He’d forgotten.

Word count: 1.12k

Disclaimer/s - Angst, hurt/slightcomfort, arguing, ect.

A/N: PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND REQUESTS! pt2’s are annoying so i just ended up making it a hopeful ending!

You’d been waiting approximately ten minutes for your boyfriend to show up. You had both agreed to reserve the perfect spot at the restaurant you went for your first date a whole year ago.

You sat giddily in your chair, thanking the waitress as she brought you wine and water as you’d asked. It was then you noticed he had yet to arrive and it was ten past six. He was late.

Brushing it off as traffic, you sip on your water, trying to swallow the bitter taste of unease. Surely it was just traffic.

Twenty minutes later, and he was still a no show. The waitress had come back twice in that time to see if you were ready to order which you’d had to promptly explain your boyfriend was running late. You’d sent him many texts asking where he was, all that went ignored.

You looked foolish. Being stood up on an anniversary date.

An hour now.

An hour he’d been late. Your mind ran to the worst possible scenario’s, so you nervously pick up your phone and open the Find My app.

Clicking on his location, your eyebrows furrow. He was at practice still? Your body stiffened as your brain wracked itself trying to find an excuse.

Maybe he was just taking a while to get ready! Wrong.

A text appears at the top of your screen, making your whole heart shatter.

Pablo❤️: I’m just leaving practice some of us guys stayed late.. Where are you?

Your eye twitched. Genuinely twitched. Because what the fuck?

Ignoring his text, you stand from your table and motion the waitress over, explaining in short sentences why you needed to pay and leave as quickly as possible. She understood completely, the look of pity on her face only fueled the tears that slipped from you eyes the second you stepped back into your car.

Staying there for a few minutes you try to recollect yourself when you get a phone call. Glancing at the caller ID, your annoyance only grows as you press decline, knowing if you answered now you’d say things you’d later regret.

The drive back to yours and Gavi’s shared apartment was fifteen minutes and the whole time you practiced things you’d say to him without losing your cool. Of course the second you did see him, you’d forget it all.

The elevator moved slowly the second you got into it, as if it knew you needed that extra time to cool off. The put-put pace only pissed you off more as you just wanted to go inside, shower, and sleep.

Unfortunately, none of that was going to happen as you come face to face with your boyfriend the second you open the door.

A look of annoyance flashes across your face when you see the concern in his eyes briefly dissipate when his eyes roam your outfit.

“Shit.” He mumbles, realization hitting him at full force. “Babe—“

“Oh save it.” You scoff, rapidly taking off your heels and throwing them aside as you storm toward your bedroom, ignoring the pleads of your boyfriend behind you.

Your name slipping past his lips in pleas the further you walked away, only stopping when you swivel around on your bare heel. “I don’t want to fucking hear your lame excuses.” Your chest heaves and falls as you collect yourself. “Do you know how stupid I looked? Being stood up like that? Do you?”

Pinching his lips together, Gavi’s eyes dart to his feet. “I’m sorry! I forgot to tell you I couldn’t make it.”

“How do you just.. forget that? Is it too much to ask for you to simply care?” You scoff, venom dripping from your every word the more you spoke.

Taking a few steps in your direction, Gavi looks back up at you with those big doe eyes that you’d fallen in love with, that you continued to fall in love with despite how many times he pushed your buttons.

Before he can speak, you cut him off. “Whatever. I’m going to shower.” You snap, turning back around only to be stopped by a firm hand grasping your wrists.

With all his strength, he pulls you back to him, his hand letting go of you only to wrap around your back. At first you’d tried to squirm out of his grasp, but clearly to no avail as his grip only tightened. So there you stood, fuming silently with your fists clenching at your sides as one of his hands rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs over and over again. His head dipped near your ear as he speaks. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. I’m over it.” You huff, prying his arms from you. Taking the new freedom, you make your break for the bathroom, sending him a short glare as if to silently force him to stay away.

Gavi’s lips form a thin line, his doe eyes narrowing into frustration. “Baby, please don’t do this, let’s talk.”

You were already halfway down the hallway by then, hesitating slightly before you open the bathroom door and lock it behind you.

Later, while cozied up in bed, you finally feel the weight of your boyfriend behind you. There’s a distance between you two, one both uncomfortable but also needed. Your eyes clamp shut tighter in a weak attempt to fall asleep.

You feel his eyes boring holes into your head, which makes it all the harder to fall asleep. Gavi shifts about a dozen times, not used to having to sleep without you near him.

He whispers your name, beckoning you to look at him. “Come on, don’t fall asleep mad.” Gavi begs, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth.

Shifting around to face him, your eyes narrow. “Now why shouldn’t I?”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He says, eyebrows knitting together in worry. “Anything you want is yours. Anything.”

You really wanted to stay mad. You deserved to stay mad. “Anything?” You repeat.

“Anything.” He nods, a small sense of hope flooding him. “Just name it.”

“Date night, once a week for the next month. I don’t care how busy you are. And! You bring me to the book shop at the mall and you get to buy me any books I want.” Your eyes narrow into slits, “then, we can talk about forgiveness.”

Gavi suppresses a smile, “consider it done.” He waits a moment, “so can I…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn over. “Yeah, I suppose.” Before you could even finish your sentence, he’s pressed against your back, arm draped around you, and pulling you impossibly close. Sleep calling to him far quicker than it did you.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl !

[reveluving]

hold me closely ; rick flag x reader

summary: 'cool, calm & collected' is how many describe the Flags, and they're right. to a certain degree, at least. (a.k.a some of your & Rick's favourite convos in the family group chat)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff & humour (ft twin sons Ethan & Richie, daughter Irene & Tofu the cat!)

a/n: made sumn for my rick babes (+ s/o to my girl @lacontroller1991​ for the cutest hubby rick ask??? ily) so enjoyed imagining what it’s like to be his wifey and mother of kids eeee <33 love y’all!! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

disclaimer!! despite the face claims (joy from rv btw) & running theme here, you are highly encouraged to imagine yourself or your oc as the MC however you see fit!

» wanna read more rick flag fics or anyone by joel kinnaman? check out my j.k. m.list!

↳ january 19th ༉‧₊˚✧

me 🌸 : how's Tofu, kids?

richie : [ sent 3 photos ]

mister e : pretty gud mom

me 🌸 : ??? the last photo??

my beloved ❤️ : @.mister e what did we tell you about putting Tofu on your head

mister e : i told richie it was a bad idea but he didn’t listen 😔

richie : ??? u literally suggested the idea??? 🤨

↳ march 21st ༉‧₊˚✧

me 🌸 : have u guys seen the package i brought in this morning? i ordered a pillow for your sister

richie : [ sent 3 photos ]

richie : dw we gave it to her already

mister e : Tofu also conquered the box just so you guys know

↳ june 5th ༉‧₊˚✧

my beloved ❤️ : store’s got vanilla ice cream but it’s not the one you asked for. is it still okay @.me 🌸?

me 🌸 : more than okay! tq ❤❤

mister e : nvm we bought like, 9 different kinds

mister e : [ sent 3 photos ]

me 🌸 : ? how???

richie : dad drove us to four different stores lol

my beloved ❤️ : i still don't think it's enough

↳ july 4th ༉‧₊˚✧

richie: [ sent 3 photos ]

[ my beloved ❤️ reacted with a ‘ ❤️ ’ ]

[ mister e reacted with a ‘ 🎉 ’ ]

[ you reacted with a ‘ 🥰 ’ ]

↳ july 22nd ༉‧₊˚✧

richie : what do you guys call a fake noodle?

me 🌸 : what?

richie : an impasta

[ my beloved ❤️ has removed richie from the group ]

me 🌸 : RICK

my beloved ❤️ : it’s a little funny, i admit

mister e : heh

my beloved ❤️ : you wanna join your brother, too?

mister e : no sir 🚶

↳ august 6th ༉‧₊˚✧

mister e : [ sent 3 photos ]

mister e : richie, irene and i @ the aquarium + ice-cream and bookstore after

[ you and my beloved ❤️ reacted with a ‘ ❤️ ’ ]

richie : hope the dinner’s going well!

me 🌸 : [ sent 2 photos ]

my beloved ❤️ : [ sent 2 photos ]

my beloved ❤️ : it's going amazing. thank you boys 😌

» juuust in case you're still confused: 'my beloved ❤' is Rick, 'mr e' is Ethan & 'richie' is, well, Richie!

» ❛ fun lil’ trivia about the flags ༉‧₊˚

Irene and the twins have an eight-year age gap!

Richie’s full name is Richard Flag the Third.

Although identical, Richie has certain mannerisms that resemble his father. The same case applies to Ethan, the younger twin, who picks up more of your quirks. Despite that, Richie, usually the photographer of the group, encourages (and even adds to) Ethan’s odd photo ideas.

Sporty ahh kids. All three of them. Need I say more?

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[kckt88]

Take My Breath Away VI.

Summary:

A new Targaryen is born.

Warning(s): Swearing, Angst, Child Birth, Complications, Choices, Threats of Murder.

Word Count: 3111

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Tag List - @a-beaverhausen, @ammo23, @immyowndefender, @watercolorskyy, @toodlesxcuddles

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Some dialogue/scenes from Dynasty have been reused.

Seeing Vaeryna wife grow round with their child gave Aemond a sense of happiness that he’d never known before. He marvelled how her body changed and the feeling of their babe moving was something he would never forget.

The mood swings however were something else entirely.

Sometimes Vaeryna would scream and cry at him whenever she felt uncomfortable, she would rage and order him to stay away from her, only for her to come to him in floods of tears and drag him back to their chambers and beg him to fuck her.

Often there were times where she would wordlessly sink to her knees and tear open his breeches, only for her to stuff his cock down her throat and torture him as she sucked and licked his hard cock until she’d milked every last drop of seed from him.

Quite the predicament, that of course his brother Aegon found extremely amusing.

“You do realise that she’s already with child. You don’t need to keep sticking it in her all the time” said Aegon smirking.

“That makes a change from your orders to bed her every night or they’ll be consequences”.

“Well, it’s different now, she’s actually with child” replied Aegon.

“I just can’t help myself. Seeing her belly round with my child, knowing that it’s my seed that’s taken root. Drives me mad with desire” replied Aemond honestly.

“Drives your wife mad with desire too from what I’ve heard” said Aegon.

“Hm” muttered Aemond.

“Heard she was ordering you not to touch her anymore, only for her to find you training with Ser Criston and without skipping a beat she dragged you back to your chambers and neither of you were seen for the rest of the day” laughed Aegon.

“I had my husbandly duties to perform” retorted Aemond.

“We all know how seriously you take duty little brother” exclaimed Aegon.

Aemond rolled his eye and turned to face Vaeryna who was sitting with Jaehaera in the gardens, they were singing some kind of nursery rhymes.

It made Aemond’s heart burst, just simply watching how Vaeryna was with his niece, she would be such a good mother.

“He will be so pretty” said Jaehaera.

“Who?” asked Vaeryna.

“The babe” replied Jaehaera as she placed her little hand on Vaeryna’s round stomach.

“Oh, so he’s definitely a boy then” mused Vaeryna.

“Yes, he will look a lot like uncle Aemond, but he will be sweet like you”.

“How do you know that?” asked Vaeryna curiously as she stroked Jaehaera’s soft silver hair.

“I have dreams-I saw him flying on a dragon with uncle Aemond” replied Jaehaera.

“On Vhagar?”

“No, he will fly my mama’s dragon” said Jaehaera.

“Dreamfyre” exclaimed Vaeryna, placing a hand on her stomach as she felt the babe kick.

“Yes, they will be good friends”.

“Will you be ok with that?” asked Vaeryna.

“Dreamfyre loved my mama very much, but she’s sad and all alone. Dragons shouldn’t be lonely”.

“No, they shouldn’t” said Vaeryna softly.

“Besides the others will fly too”.

“Others?” mused Vaeryna.

“Your other children-silly” said Jaehaera.

“How many others?”

“Seven, one for each of the gods” replied Jaehaera in a sing song voice.

“I don’t think that’s accurate” gasped Vaeryna, not knowing if she should feel horrified or not.

“I saw them all, even the boy surrounded by snow” replied Jaehaera.

“The boy surrounded by snow?” asked Vaeryna.

“Yes-the boy with the wolf, don’t worry auntie Ryna, I won’t tell anyone” whispered Jaehaera.

“Jae-“ said Vaeryna nervously.

“It’s ok, I promise I won’t tell-” muttered Jaehaera.

“-Promise you won’t tell what?” asked Aemond.

Vaeryna looked at Jaehaera who smiled sweetly and patted the grass next to her. Aemond smiled as he sat down next to his niece.

“The seven” muttered Jaehaera.

“T-The seven?” asked Aemond furrowing his brow.

“All the children were going to have, Jae said she saw them in a dream” replied Vaeryna.

“One for each of the gods” said Aemond smiling.

“That’s exactly what Jae said-you don’t seriously want seven children” gasped Vaeryna.

“I don’t know, might be interesting. Who knows” replied Aemond shrugging.

“Your not the one that will have to give birth to them” snapped Vaeryna.

“No, but I’m sure I’ll have fun making them” said Aemond smirking.

“Your such an arse-honestly, no way am I birthing seven babes” muttered Vaeryna shifting uncomfortably as the babe currently inside her began to kick.

“Yes, you will” cheered Jaehaera as she picked up a ladybird from the grass and took it to the bushes.

“Thank you for listening to what she says, usually people either don’t understand or they think she’s mad” whispered Aemond.

“I would never think such a thing” replied Vaeryna taking Aemond’ hand and placing it on her stomach.

“The child is very active today” muttered Aemond.

“Indeed, he kept me awake most of the night” replied Vaeryna.

“If your tired, let me escort you back to our chambers, if you cannot sleep, then you should rest” said Aemond as he stood up and offered his hand to Vaeryna.

“Ready and pull” exclaimed Vaeryna as Aemond hauled her off the floor.

Vaeryna brushed the grass of her skirts and smiled at Aemond who was gazing at her with such fondness, that it made her blush.

“-And where are you two sneaking off to, not more marital duty?” asked Aegon.

“My wife is tired, so I’m taking her to rest, is that ok with you” snarked Aemond.

“Of course, the health of my heir is important” said Aegon as he reached out to lay a hand on Vaeryna’s stomach, but she stepped away.

“Do that again and you’ll lose it” snapped Vaeryna.

Aegon didn’t answer, he simply smiled and watched with mild curiosity as Aemond wrapped an arm around Vaeryna’s back and guided her inside the Red Keep.

Aemond didn’t know how much longer he could stand listening to Vaeryna’s pained wails, as he paced back and forth outside their closed chamber door.

Vaeryna’s labours had begun during the night and Aemond had been ushered out of their chambers, as a flurry of Maesters and midwives surrounded his wife.

“A-Aemond,” cried Vaeryna.

Aemond had been ordered to remain outside as the midwives claimed the birthing room was no place for a man, let alone a Prince of the realm.

“I want AEMOND” screamed Vaeryna.

Aemond couldn’t stand it anymore, so he took a deep breath and barged into his chambers.

“My prince. You should not be here. It is not proper” urged Maester Munkun.

“I don’t give a shit what’s proper. My wife needs me. I’m staying” snapped Aemond.

“B-But my Prince”

“Do not attempt to remove me again Maester, or I swear to the seven I will throw you out of that fucking window” shouted Aemond.

“P-Please. Aemond. I need you” sobbed Vaeryna.

“I’m here ābrazȳrys” (Wife) exclaimed Aemond as he knelt down beside the bed and took Vaeryna’s hand.

“It hurts so much Valzȳrys” (Husband).

“I know. But you can do this. I know you can” said Aemond, doing his best to reassure his wife.

“No, I can’t” wailed Vaeryna, grimacing in pain as a contraction ripped across her stomach.

“Yes, you can Issa prūmia. Squeeze my hand as much as you want” (My heart).

Maester Munkun instructed Vaeryna to take a deep breath and push.

“That’s it. Issa dōna, keep going” encouraged Aemond (My sweet).

Aemond had no idea how much time had passed since Vaeryna was instructed to push, even as the labour tired her, she kept going. Her red face covered in sweat and tears.

But it soon become clear that things were not progressing as they should, especially when Maester Munkun and the midwives were sharing looks of concern and began whispering to each other.

“W-What’s going on?” asked Aemond as one of the maid’s quickly left the room.

“My Prince, may I have a word” urged Maester Munkun.

Aemond nodded sharply and pressed a quick kiss to Vaeryna’s sweaty head before standing up and following the Maester.

“Unfortunately, My Prince, the babe isn’t coming and with every second that passes we risk losing them both” said Maester Munkun.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” gasped Aemond.

“You need to make a choice My Prince, there is a procedure we can perform to bring the babe out, but-“

Suddenly the door burst open and Aegon lumbered inside. He reeked of stale wine and his eyes were completely bloodshot.

“I received word that are complications?” asked Aegon.

The maid who had left the room, shrunk into the corner as Aemond glared at her, no doubt one of his brother’s little spies.

“Yes, Your Grace, I was just informing Prince Aemond that there is a procedure we can perform to bring the babe out”.

“Well then. Do it” urged Aegon.

“You must understand Your Grace, the mother would not survive such a procedure”.

“WHAT?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Would the babe live?” asked Aegon.

“There is a chance Your Grace” replied Maester Munkun.

“Well then, do it. I will not risk my heir-“

“-Aegon. No-” urged Aemond shaking his head.

“I am the King. You will perform that procedure” snarled Aegon desperately.

“A-Aemond” whimpered Vaeryna.

“Go on, get on with it” said Aegon waving his hand dismissively.

Aemond watched as the Maester rummaged around in his bag, before he pulled out a small sharp blade.

They were going to cut her open, she was going to die. No, he couldn’t lose her, not now.

With a ferocious roar of rage, Aemond surged forward and shoved the Maester away from Vaeryna.

“Have you lost your wits” yelled Aegon as he too was buffeted out of the way.

“You will not touch my wife” snapped Aemond as he stood over Vaeryna protectively.

“We can’t risk the babe, the Maester needs to-“

“I swear to the seven and every single god in old Valyria, if your obsession with having a male heir costs Vaeryna her life, I will slit your throat from ear to ear” raged Aemond his hand moving to the dagger at his hip.

“I am the King and-“

“That is my wife, and I will not have her butchered for the sake of a babe” said Aemond as he turned his back on Aegon and took Vaeryna’s hand.

“Aemond-what’s happening-I’m scared” sobbed Vaeryna.

“Your going to dig deeper than you ever thought possible and find the strength to deliver our babe. Now come on” muttered Aemond as he kissed Vaeryna’s hand.

“I-I can’t”

“Yes, you can. You are Vaeryna Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and the Rogue Prince, you are the rider of the Cannibal the most feared dragon in all of Westeros. Now show everyone in this room why you are the true blood of the dragon” urged Aemond.

Vaeryna nodded slowly as she took a deep breath and pushed.

Never had Aemond seen anyone display the level of strength that Vaeryna currently displayed, she must have been exhausted but she didn’t give in.

“I-I don’t believe it, M-Maester the babe” exclaimed a midwife.

“That’s it Princess. I can see the babes head” said Maester Munkun.

“You can do it my love. That’s it. Keep pushing” urged Aemond, grimacing slightly as Vaeryna squeezed his hand tight.

“Keep going Princess. Your doing so well-“

“The head’s out. Now just wait until the next contraction and push”

Even though her strength was waning, Vaeryna took a deep breath and gave one last push.

Then an ear-piercing cry shattered the silence of the room. 

Aemond’s heart swooped at the sound, his lips parting in amazement as he watched Maester Munkun, cut the umbilical cord and quickly wrapped the babe in clean cloth.

Vaeryna whimpered next to him, her eyes shining with relieved tears. 

“Well, what is it?” asked Aegon.

“A boy. Your Grace” said Maester Munkun.

“My heir” shrieked Aegon excitedly as he held out his arms expectantly, but before the Maester could place the tiny squalling babe in the Kings arms, Aemond abruptly shoved Aegon aside and snatched his son from the Maester who made a rather hasty retreat.

Aemond passed the baby boy to Vaeryna who held the babe against her bare chest. Her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Aemond. Look, our son” gasped Vaeryna.

“He’s perfect” whispered Aemond in awe. His heart bursting with love at the sight of his newly born son in the arms of his wife.

“Jae was right, he looks like you” said Vaeryna happily.

The babe had a full head of silver hair, never in his life had Aemond ever seen so much hair on a babe.

“Would you like to hold him?” asked Vaeryna.

Even though he was nervous, Aemond nodded eagerly. His heart bursting with every single ounce of happiness and love as his son was placed in his arms.

“What’s the boy’s name?”

“The honour belongs to his father” muttered Vaeryna.

“Are you sure?” asked Aemond as his wife nodded slowly, Maester Munkun and the midwives were busying themselves with the delivery of the afterbirth and making sure Vaeryna was ok.

Aemond looked down at the small babe in his arms and smiled.

There was only one name he could think of. A name that he’d picked out after Vaeryna had told him that she was carrying his child.

“Rhaegar” whispered Aemond.

“I had thought to name him Aegon, after myself of course. He is my heir” said Aegon.

“He might be your heir, but I am his father and any decisions regarding him shall fall to me or his mother” snapped Aemond.

“Aemond your not being fair” argued Aegon.

“Get out of my chambers. You are fouling the air with your stench” snarked Aemond.

“You dare speak to me like that” exclaimed Aegon.

“I shall speak to you any way I please and if you don’t listen, I shall be adding Kingslayer to my repertoire”.

Aegon must have realised the seriousness in Aemond’s threat as he quickly vacated the room.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, but at last we can be alone”.

Vaeryna smiled widely, she had birthed their son, and gone through immeasurable pain, yet she had never looked more beautiful.

Aemond leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaeryna’s lips.

“Avy jorrāelan” whispered Vaeryna as her eyes began to close (I love you).

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat, she had never said that to him before. But she was clearly exhausted and needed to rest.

Long after the Maester’s and midwives had finished taking care of Vaeryna, and the maids had ensured there were clean sheets on the bed, Aemond cradled his son in his arms and simply watched over Vaeryna as she slept.

Never in his life had he been this happy.

Vaeryna slept on and off for almost two days before she regained some semblance of strength and energy.

A wet nurse had been helping to take care of Rhaegar and Alicent would often visit, of course still held a slight disdain for Vaeryna given her blatant rudeness, but there some modicum of care.

Aemond wondered if maybe his mother still harboured some warm feeling towards Rhaenyra and now that she was gone, she had come to care for Vaeryna as a way to make up for what had happened during the war.

What ever the reason, Aemond was glad for it. Despite his initial feelings towards Vaeryna when she first arrived, she had completely woven herself into his heart and breathed new life into every fibre of his being.

A soft knock at the door broke Aemond out of his reverie, he gentle placed Rhaegar in his cradle and opened the door to his chambers to find Aegon standing nervously in the corridor.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you” snarled Aemond as he went to close the door.

“No. Wait. Please brother just hear me out” begged Aegon.

Aemond really did contemplate slamming the door in his face, but he’d come here for a reason and judging from the red handprint marring his cheek, he’d been commanded by their mother.

“H-How is Vaeryna?”

“She’s sleeping, but she’s ok” replied Aemond bluntly.

“I-I wish to apologise for my actions. I was wrong”.

“You were willing to have my wife sliced open” retorted Aemond as he stepped out into the corridor and pulled the door shut.

“I-Its just the council kept going on about the importance of me having an heir, and I tried to suggest naming Jaehaera but they refused, saying they could in could conscious allow such a thing because of what happened with Rhaenyra and-“

“Well obviously, it would make us look like hypocrites, and would most likely incite another war” said Aemond sternly.

“The point is, I shouldn’t have said what I did”.

“You know the only reason you’re not dead, is that I do not wish to have our mother suffer the grief of losing another child, even if you are a wastrel” said Aemond.

“Ok I get it. I’m unworthy. Must you constantly remind me how much of a disappointment I am” muttered Aegon.

“No, I don’t think you get it at all” snarked Aemond.

“I didn’t even want the fucking crown in the first place, do you remember that. How I begged you to let me sail away and never return, yet they forced that fucking thing upon my head”

“You are the first-born son” replied Aemond.

“Our grandsire claimed crowning me would prevent a war, but it only succeeded in causing one. Was it all worth it Aemond, tell me brother, the people we’ve lost? Grandsire, Daeron, Helaena, both of my sons. Look at Vaeryna and the people she’s lost” said Aegon the tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

“No, it was not worth it” muttered Aemond.

“Our house has almost fell to ruin because people would rather see a man on the Iron Throne, we cannot carry on like this brother or else we will wither away and die”.

“You think I don’t know that. The whole reason you had me take Vaeryna to wife was so we could further our line” said Aemond.

"You love her though?"

"Yes I do. More than I've ever loved anyone" said Aemond.

“Do you think we’ll ever recover?” asked Aegon quietly.

“Only time will tell” replied Aemond as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.

“I am sorry you know I just-“

“I think in all honesty Aegon, it’s for the best that you stay out of my face for the next week. I can’t deal with your shit. I need to be there for Vaeryna and our son” said Aemond firmly.

“O-Ok” stammered Aegon.

“Goodbye. Your Grace” said Aemond as he opened the door to his chambers and disappeared inside, leaving Aegon standing alone.

[lilyofthesword-writes]

What Should Be - Part 3 (Batman)

Summary: You have a loving family, a cozy home, a great job - What more could a person ask for? But what do you do when an injured man dressed as a bat shows up in your home in the middle of the night?

Pairing: Batman x Reader (Platonic or Romantic)

Word Count: 1,024

Warnings/Disclaimers: Blood, injuries

Counterpart: Alchemy (Please read first)

Part 1 | Part 2 |  | Part 4 | Part 5 | Epilogue

Masterlist

When your family finished dinner, you picked up the dirty plates and made your way into the kitchen, fully intending to clean up after having cooked for everyone. It only felt right after napping the day away… And only waking up after your partner came home from picking Torrence up from the bus stop, something you were supposed to do, something you did every day. 

Your phone had shown no missed calls, but Torrence’s phone clearly showed outgoing calls to you and then Jesse when you didn’t answer. Your stomach churned with every step at the thought of, for all intents and purposes, forgetting your son. 

I shouldn’t be a parent… I’m terrible…

You bit your lip as you placed the dishes in the sink. Your limbs itched with a strangely familiar feeling to run. Run and no one will get hurt again. You shook your head vigorously. A pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“Babe, let me worry about this. Go relax. You’ve been moving nonstop since—”

“No,” you cut off your partner. “No, I just— I need to do this.”

They paused a moment before pulling your hands from the sink and turning you around, forcing you to look at them.

“Hey,” they started gently. “We’re not mad, you know. We’re just worried about you. Don’t beat yourself up over one day.”

You gazed into their eyes, hoping to see what made their words feel… Well, you weren’t sure exactly. They weren’t… It didn’t feel right. You couldn’t find it.

Torrence took this moment to fling his arms around you. “We just want you to be okay.”

A lump in your throat formed and bobbed. They were trying to make you feel better. But that was exactly it. They were saying what you wanted to hear but… It wasn’t… Wasn’t genuine. It was hollow, hollow like their eyes. 

You hugged them back. 

Later that night, you found yourself flipping the medallion between your fingers, attempting to let the cool clay ground your mind. You had made sure Torrence was tucked into bed extra well and teasingly did the same for your partner before settling into your office. You still had work to do. You had to finish this project and presentation. It was your chance to move up the ladder and be next in line for the Archeology Department Head.

But that dream…

Those two men, Nightwing and Red Hood. How did you know them? And who the hell was Batman?

No. Not the time for that. Focus.

Your thumb skimmed over one of the symbols, one of your nails catching in the grooves as you traced it. You know this, but from where? You stood and went to the bookcases and stacks to rummage through your collection again.

You checked the shelves one more time. Nothing. Stepping back to survey the spines, you jumped as a book stack toppled over. Dust plumed as the books hit the floor. Had this been in an office at the university, you’d be embarrassed by the mess. Sighing, you kneeled and began picking up the books. One of which caught your eye. A leather-bound tome laid near. You lifted the book into your lap for a better view. Your thigh twinged in response.

Could this be…

You stood, letting out a small grunt as you did. Your leg seared with the motion. You made haste to your seat. With the medallion in hand, you scoured the handwritten pages. Deep within the tome, you found what you were looking for: Symbols that matched the medallion, symbols that told its story. To you, it was more akin to an amulet.

Silence. Conceal. Shield.

The dull pain in your thigh surged into an electric shock. The amulet snapped in your grip. Its pieces fell to the table. You panted, clutching your leg, willing the misery to cease.

Just breathe… Deep and slow…

Your eyes clenched closed, and instead of seeing darkness, there was the inside of an old warehouse. In front of you, an older man stood grinning. His hair was shockingly white, and he had dichromatic eyes. There were patches of stitched skin running along his face. The most concerning part was the rusted scalpel in his hand. His name came to you in an instant — Doc Benton.

What is this? It feels…

The pain left as suddenly as it came, leaving only a ghost of its former self, and you were able to open your eyes. You flexed your fingers and massaged your thigh. Through your pajamas, you could feel a raised scar running down from your hip to your knee.

What? 

You wrenched up your pants leg to find nothing. Rubbing your fingertips against the skin, it was smooth. Other than some stretch marks that had grown over time, there was nothing. Releasing the fabric, your hands came up to cradle your face. Maybe you were getting sick. That had to be it. Right? You snapped the tome shut and left your desk. It was time for bed. 

As your fingers wrapped around the doorknob, you heard it. 

Clomp. CLOMP.

You shook your head.

No. Not this again. It’s not real.

You decidedly fling the door open. There was nothing to be afraid of. Unless you’re afraid of looming, bulky men dressed as bats.

There he was again, the man from the night before. 

“Batman,” you whispered the name echoing in the back of your mind. Deep down you knew it was right.

Your body froze while your mind raced at a staggering speed.

He’s not— He can’t be. But he’s right there. Can a hallucination be this realistic? 

You could see every spec of stubble on his jaw, hear every hoarse, heavy breath, smell every bit of sweat clinging to him. Overwhelmed, you stumbled away only for him to pull you back. Despite his beaten appearance, his grip on your wrist was bruise inducing. It grounded you.

He mumbled your name. It sent a shockwave through you.

With that, he warped into nothingness like before. And you fell into a heap on the floor, heart pounding as you tried to catch your breath.

[wrestlersownmyheart]

Hi. I love your stories. I have an idea for a ficlet. I would love one where Randy Orton and the reader go to a haunted house and he protects the reader from all the Scary things

Aww thank you so much sis! Hope you enjoy what I did! 🙂

Title: Haunted House Pairing: Randy Orton X Reader Summary: You and Randy decide to visit a Haunted House on Halloween night and you get so spooked he has to protect you. Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: None. Just fluff and an attempt at comedy.

NOTE: I have never done a Haunted House before, so bear with me. I hope I did this correctly.

Haunted House

“I don’t know about this,” you said, taking Randy Orton’s large hand. “I’ve never been in a haunted house before, Randy.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Randy coaxed, his bright blue eyes flashing. “It’ll be fun. Besides, you can’t go to a Halloween carnival without visiting the haunted house.”

You were both dressed up for Halloween as Han Solo and Princess Leia from the Return of the Jedi. Your costume was complete with the golden bikini and a super long clip in braid.

“Yeah but they say this house is actually haunted,” you argued. “Like, for real. That’s like deciding to pay the Amityville house a visit! Are you crazy??”

Randy chuckled, and brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it softly. “Why so scared? I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t doubt you’d try,” you replied, “But how are you going to protect me from a ghost, or worse, a poltergeist?”

He chuckled again and led you up the walkway toward the house. “It’ll be fine. If it gets too bad, we’ll find the nearest emergency exit and leave. Deal?”

You nodded reluctantly, “O-okay.”

You went through the, what used to be, white gate of the picket fence which framed the large yard and walked toward the front door. A small group of teenage girls were behind you, already giggling hysterically. 

“Somehow, I think if we’re stuck in front of them the whole time, I’m gonna be ready to climb the walls before this is over,” you remarked, with a roll of your eyes.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be more quiet when they get scared,” Randy chuckled deviously. “And I can always scare them worse than this house would.”

You nodded your agreement with a soft hum of approval.

He was telling the truth. Randy was an insanely attractive man, but he could definitely turn into a scary lunatic when he wanted to–usually when he was wrestling or filming a segment for the WWE.

You stepped up to the first step of the porch, and–

“ROAAAR!!” A Freddy Krueger leapt out from behind the open front door.

At the same time, you jumped out of your skin and your hand shot to your chest as the teenagers squealed, and Randy laughed aloud.

“This is gonna be fun,” he exclaimed.

“If you say so,” you said under your breath.

You both stepped into the house, followed by the annoying teenage girls, and you were already cringing when a goblin flew by your face, shrieking in laughter, it’s ragged clothing brushing across your cheek.

“It’s just a bunch of jump-scares,” you griped to Randy. “Can’t we just forget about this?”

“Once you enter, you don’t exit,” came the killer’s voice from the Scream films. Right behind you. You turned and immediately screamed at seeing Ghostface run at you.

“How the heck did he hear me,” you demanded. “I wasn’t talking that loud. Randy, this is freaky.”

“Relax, babe, it’s just part of the show,” Randy said, leading you forward. “I won’t let anything touch you.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly, letting him take your hand and lead you further into the house.

You both turned down a hallway and immediately heard a door slam in the near distance followed by a woman’s scream. You couldn’t decide if it was sound effects or if the “for real” haunted house was beginning to show its true colors.

That thought nearly sent you into a panic. “Randy, I really want out of here. Please.”

“Okay, baby, we can leave,” Randy said, turning you toward the way you’d just come. He affectionately squeezed your shoulders. “We’ll go back out the front door since we already know what is lurking there.”

You nodded as he led you, and you immediately felt bad. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted to do this.”

“No worries, babe. It’s not a big deal. I just thought since you’d never been to one that it’d be fun for you. If it’s scaring you that bad I don’t want you to do it either.”

“Sir,” an authoritative voice said from behind the two of you. You turned and saw that “Freddy Krueger” was acting as hall monitor, so to speak. “Sir, you’re not allowed to leave back through the front door. I’m afraid you have to go through the remaining haunted house to get to the actual exit.

“Please,” you started. “I’m freaked out and I just want out of here.”

“There’s only a couple of hallways to get through ma`am.”

It was surreal for Freddy Krueger to be speaking so politely to you. But polite or not you wanted out of this house and you wanted out now.

“I don’t care. I’m not going and you can’t make me,” you said feeling childish, but nonetheless justified.

“Ma`am…”

“Look, Freddy,” Randy started sarcastically, popping his knuckles and clearly losing his patience. “We’re going out the front door. If you don’t like that, I don’t think there’s a lot you can do about it.”

“I can stop you from going through the door.”

Freddy was getting pretty snarky.

“And I can slap the taste out of your pizza-faced mouth,” you said in retaliation.

“Now listen,” Freddy started, pointing his finger blade at you. “I-”

“Don’t you dare point that blade at me,” you cried indignantly. You let loose and slapped him across the face.

“HEY!” Freddy was suddenly angry and latched onto your arm with his gloved hand. 

“OW,” You cried, as the metal of the glove dug into your skin. The blades were thankfully dulled down to where it didn’t actually cut you, but it still hurt.

“Okay, that’s it,” Randy said a second before driving his fist into Freddy’s face. 

Freddy was down for the count.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Randy said, taking your hand and heading for the front door.

You both hurried through the door and were instantly out in the cool night air.

“Thank you, baby,” you said softly as you walked away from the house and headed out of the carnival toward Randy’s car.

“No one's gonna put their hands on you on my watch,” he said, as he walked you to the passenger’s side of the large SUV. “No one.”

He opened the door for you and helped you into the seat, before gently closing the door again. Then he was jogging around to the driver’s side and getting in himself.

“I love you, Randy.”

He looked over at you and smiled. “I love you too.” His dimples appeared then. “In fact I was going to do this after the haunted house, but Freddy screwed it up,” he chuckled, pulling a velvet box out of his costume’s pocket. He opened the box to reveal a diamond ring. “Y/N… Would you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Randy! Yes!” You squealed the words and latched onto him kissing him passionately. “Yes,” you said again, as he placed the ring on your finger.

“I’m glad.” He said, reaching over and kissing you softly. “You’ve just made me the happiest man on earth.” He started the car as you admired your ring.

“And you’ve made me the happiest woman on earth,” you replied, gazing at him. “Let’s go home and celebrate,” he said with a wink.

THE END

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