#i would truly end it all if that happened

[viaviavie]

SEEKING DREAMLIGHT | PROLOGUE

in which you return to twisted wonderland. you remind me so much of poor alice who fell into the rabbit hole. except this time, it seems you stumbled into the same rabbit hole twice. i hope you remember this place, because it seems like this world might have forgotten you. you've forgotten how you even left? no matter, it will all come back to you. It will come back to them too.

SUMMARY: based on disney’s dreamlight valley. years after the ramshackle prefect had left twisted wonderland, former students suddenly find themselves back in night raven college with missing memories and dreams of a magicless student they were supposed to know. an older prefect finally makes a return to a shell of the fantasy you once lived, falling in love once more with what was forgotten.

[INDEX] [ NEXT ]

To think you would wake up again in a coffin, years after the first time it had happened. Despite how much you have grown since then, the coffin remains spacious as it did before. It is dark, and you continue to yearn for the light. With a heavy sigh, you find yourself pushing the opening of your coffin, greeted by the soft green glows. The room is in disarray, and it is evident you were not the first to emerge. Coffins surround you, all opened and disheveled without a care.

You recall this room, and it fills your stomach with dread. To think that you had ended up here again, not when you have finally convinced yourself that the memories you shared in this campus were only fantasies. The last thing you ever expected was coming back here, not that you ever truly remembered how you got out in the first place.

Wait, just how did you even return home to begin with?

Something stirs in your hands, full of light and warmth. The feeling of metal dances along your fingers as you glance down, eyes fixated on the slight shine.

It is a key.

Your thoughts are immediately torn from you as a yowl echoes throughout the room.

"Who's there?!" It's familiar. You felt as if there was nothing to fear as you rose from the coffin. It was akin to waking from a long sleep. Key in hand, you peer towards the singular entrance as the shadow of a small beast comes into view.

The beast halts on all fours, its blue eyes locking in onto yours. That gem on its collar, and that little bow—

“Henchman?”

A memory floods back into your mind. To think that the first thing you think of is the many cans of tuna, it perks up a smile from your lips. It is relief that fills your chest as you stumble out of your coffin and drop to your knees, arms held out open as the beast leapt up into your arms.

It's Grim.

“Henchman!” Tears immediately pricked at the corners of your eyes as a smile surfaced across your features, a bundle of fur crashing into your chest. It had been too long. Gently pawing at your face, the direbeast wept into your cheek and clung onto your shoulders. “I knew you’d come back! I was right! I believed when no one else remembered!” You never truly register his words as you recall the feeling of his fur across your skin, or the way his paws seem to cling onto your clothes. "Grim..." You whisper, only to be met by joyous yowls. "It's you, it's really you!"

Grim hesitates to pull away, but finds assurance in the way your hand gently held his paws. He has still taken shape of that same cat-like beast you had known and loved, only bigger now. "Henchman, you grew so big..." He marvels, bumping his forehead onto yours for a slight moment. You laugh, shaking your head as you attempt to resist the urge to weep. "So did you, Grim! The great and powerful Grim!"

It falls silent, save for Grim's hiccupped sighs. He paws at your sleeve, wiping his eyes at the fabric as he finally relaxed onto your lap. "I really really missed you." He whimpers before scowling, burying himself into your arms once more. Only then to you take notice of the room, along with its mirrors obscured with thorns. You pause, looking down at the direbeast with furrowed brows. "Grim, what happened here?"

The direbeast sighs, looking back at you with somewhat of a hopeless expression. "Something's gone really wrong here, Henchman." Grim takes a moment to hop onto your shoulder. You heave at the weight, no longer used to how heavy he had gotten. Nonetheless, you straighten your back as Grim settled himself. "I don't know when it started, but everyone all ended up back here."

Your memory feels fuzzy as you try and recall all the faces you used to know. "Everyone came back to the campus, but some of them are trapped in their dorms by those thorns. I tried breathing fire on them, but nothing works." Grim shook his head and scowled once more. "There are some students that are on campus, but... they're no help at all!" You glance at Grim, confused by his sudden outburst.

“Those idiots don’t remember a thing about you! Dumb and Dumber can’t even remember your name. Everything’s gone weird here, henchman. It’s like everyone got hit with amnesia and I don't know how to get them to listen to me!" Grim looks as if he were about to break into tears once more. The situation was confusing, nor can you comprehend what was to come.

All you could really do is pat the direbeast's head, providing him the warmth from your hand as you stood on your feet. The key remained clutched in your other fist, and you slowly began to walk to the only exist.

"No one to greet me, huh?" You murmur, abandoning your opened coffin as you make your way past the dark doors. There are thorns everywhere, plaguing the once lively campus. Oddly enough, it feels as if you had to play the hero again as you have in a distant dream.

And yet, something is off. You still don't understand how this came to be.

"Where to now, Grim?" Your voice echoes through the long hallway. Grim responds with a grunt of determination, followed by obnoxious laughter that you had come to miss.

"Ramshackle Dorm!"

TAGLIST: @jjsmeowthie @jjsmeowthie @hellfirestarter @thatpersonuouknow @knorreine @nerenda @goths4gambit @ghostlysyntaxed @blerp-22 @minkyungseokie @daeda21 @red1sg0n3

feel free to comment below to be added to the taglist!

(also for the tags that look inactive here-- i am determined to make it work on the upcoming post! i see yall, and i shall deliver!)

[stormcrow513]

I just want to add in, outside of my love of 22 episode seasons and how it is funner and and better story telling and ect,

During the worst part of my depression where I was in a truly bad place physically AND mentally and was suicidal almost daily,

Supernatural the TV show helped keep me alive, each week for a while, 'if I kill myself I won't know what happens next week' then the season ended on a really awful cliffhanger, so all summer as the heat was battering me to hell and I was literally half dead a couple times, 'if I give up I'll never know what happens next season'

Having something to look forward to can be literally life saving, I have no idea how I would have managed that particular year without those dumb boys

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part10

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning miscarriage, mentioning abortion, kind of depression, pregnancy symptoms, pregnancy cramps, mentioning blood, mentioning losing someone, daddy issues, mentioning violence.

Selly’s note: I cried while writing this. Sorry not sorry.

previous - next

Everything that happened was terrifying. Waiting for the ambulance while covered in blood, the fear of not knowing what would happen—it left you feeling like you wouldn’t be able to shake it off for a while. 

You were trying to piece your life back together. The loneliness here, the ever-present ache in your heart, had never really left you. Rafe wanting you to go through with the abortion, the struggle to embrace the idea of motherhood, knowing you’d have to do it alone, the hormones—everything about that time had been suffocatingly stressful. 

Moments where you felt normal were rare. You couldn’t even remember if there were any times you truly enjoyed this pregnancy. It was just stress. Always stress. 

You waited, you hoped for the stress to pass. You longed for a time when you’d leave it behind and start building better memories. But all that remained was the stress. And then you found yourself covered in blood, desperately searching for someone to help. 

You thought all that stress might have been for nothing. 

Was "nothing" even the right word? You hated yourself for even thinking about your baby in that way. But wasn’t it true? 

You’d left everything behind. Rafe, your friends, your family, your home… everything. All to start a new life with just your baby girl. 

Was everything you did leading to this—losing her? 

“Stop stressing out.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shut down the relentless thoughts. You couldn’t stop blaming yourself, your stupidity, your mistakes. Your hands instinctively rubbed your face, and for a moment, it felt like you’d never pull yourself back together. You felt like you needed a slap—maybe from yourself—to snap out of it. 

JJ’s grip on your arm didn’t loosen. His other hand rested against your back, steadying you. “I hate this,” you murmured. 

You felt drained. Your lower abdomen ached, waves of pain pulsed through your belly, and you’d lost so much blood. You knew you were on the verge of passing out but somehow managed to stay awake. The image of your blood on the floor was burned into your mind, dragging you back to that moment over and over again. 

“Everything’s fine. I told you. Just stop stressing out.” But a gnawing feeling inside you said otherwise. It felt like you didn’t believe him. Like they weren’t telling you something—that you’d already lost the baby. It was paranoia, of course. Your obsessive, overthinking mind had a knack for showing up at the worst possible times. 

Your hand rested on your belly. You wanted to feel her, even though you knew it was too early. Yet the faint swelling beneath your palm gave you some reassurance. “I can’t get it out of my head. It just—won’t go away. I’m scared.” 

Admitting it out loud was never easy. But it was true. You were scared. Terrified. 

You were scared you’d lose your daughter before you even had the chance to hold her. Scared that the life you’d imagined with her might never come to be. 

The sound of ambulance sirens carrying you away from your home to the hospital sent chills down your spine. Knowing it could all end in an instant consumed you. 

You hated it. You hated every ounce of it. God, you wanted this baby. You wanted to be a mother. You wanted to erase that brief moment when you’d considered an abortion from your memory. 

For the first time, you felt like you had something to hold onto. You felt what it was like to love someone without even knowing them, seeing them, or meeting them. Listening to her heartbeat, staring at her ultrasound image, you felt that love. You saw it. Not Rafe, not anyone else. You saw how happy it made you. 

You’d never felt so happy in your life. It was the happiest time you’d ever known. You loved your daughter unconditionally. You thought about her constantly—what she’d look like, her eye color, her nose, her tiny hands, how she’d look in the little outfits you’d bought—everything. 

You wanted her. With all your heart and soul, you wanted her. You longed for the days when she’d be in your arms. You wished time would fly so those moments could arrive. 

You loved someone without expecting anything in return. 

The idea that she wouldn’t give you anything was ridiculous. 

She was everything. She was already giving you the world. How could you not love her? The world might not revolve around you, but your world, your tiny, fragile world, was ready to revolve around her. 

Rafe’s betrayal, the inability to trust anyone enough to share this pregnancy, had already shattered you. You’d hit rock bottom. And the only thing that could pull you out was clear—your little girl. 

You lived for the thought of her. You woke up every day with her in mind. Even through the stress, you thought of her. Of your future together. 

In this place, she was the only thing you had. 

You couldn’t lose her. You didn’t want to. You were already bound to the idea of being her mother. She was the reason you got up every morning. 

You hated this. You hated everything. You hated everything that threatened to take your daughter away from you. You hated how easily she could slip through your fingers, how a single moment could take her from you. 

The hardest part was sitting in the hospital, bloodied and waiting for results. Your phone sat nearby, and you waited for any call other than JJ’s. 

You felt like throwing up at the thought of having no one else to call. The person you reached out to, the person who tried for you, had only been in your life for four months. You weren’t even close. Barely a friend, certainly not a best friend, and definitely not a boyfriend. 

He was just a kind-hearted guy. 

The Kook-Pogue divide was real for you. They had money, power, influence—whatever. Not one of them had been there to catch you when you fell. Not one of them had reached out a hand to help. 

What looked best on people, you’d decided, wasn’t jewelry or designer clothes. It was compassion. 

You didn’t want to call yourself helpless, but you were. Struggling was normal. Flailing, failing to stand, that was normal. Accepting help was just as normal. It didn’t make you look foolish. 

You didn’t regret calling Rafe. You weren’t even sure if you were angry at him. You couldn’t think about him when your whole body was screaming in pain. He wasn’t the focus. 

Your mind was on your baby. On the results. 

It took JJ two hours to show up. To be fair—this wasn’t to insult him—he didn’t have a penny to his name. Yet he still came. He left the island for you. You felt a twinge of guilt, but it blended with all the other things weighing on you. You couldn’t stop overthinking. 

At some point, you felt like you’d turned to stone. You couldn’t cry. You could only breathe, think, exist. Until you saw JJ. 

Was four months enough time to feel close to someone? You didn’t know. Especially considering the “friendship” you had with him. But the second you saw him, tears streamed down your face. 

Seeing someone who made you feel safe, someone you didn’t have to hide your fears from, made you feel less alone. 

In what felt like a moment meant to be, JJ wrapped his arms around you like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t say a word. As you sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, you didn’t care how you looked. You saw warmth and security in the embrace, and you dove into it without hesitation. 

Having someone there for you filled your heart with a quiet kind of comfort. 

You cried and sobbed in his arms without shame. JJ didn’t seem to mind. You couldn’t see his face or hear his voice, but you felt his fingers brushing through your hair, his hand moving gently across your back to soothe you. 

He held you. He didn’t let go. He just let you feel his presence. With every passing second, he slowly pulled the fear out of you. You didn’t need to say a single word—he understood. 

You didn’t need to speak. Your actions said it all. 

Crying in his arms during such a painful moment didn’t make you feel weak. Quite the opposite—it made you feel stronger. It gave you hope that somehow, everything would be okay. 

He held you close until you calmed down. Maybe it was gross—perhaps you smelled of blood—but he didn’t care. When your sobbing turned into a quieter, monotonous rhythm, he pulled a chair beside the bed. Sitting next to you, he stroked your arm gently. He made sure you felt his presence—not just physically, but emotionally too. Whether he did it consciously or not, you couldn’t tell. But you felt it. He seemed to have a natural ease about him in moments like this.

Finding out it wasn’t a miscarriage brought relief. Knowing your baby was still there, still growing inside you, gave you a renewed sense of hope for the future. But with every piece of good news, there always seemed to be a shadow of bad news lurking. 

The doctor explained that your pregnancy carried a higher risk of miscarriage. “It doesn’t mean you will,” the doctor clarified. “It’s just a possibility.” 

Even so, the news left your mending heart with a fresh wound. You didn’t want to go through that same pain again; the thought terrified you. JJ stayed by your side, his reassuring touch grounding you, his hand resting firmly on your shoulder.

You felt as though you were observing the moment from the outside, watching the tension in your body slowly unravel. Like the fear was being drawn out of you, little by little. 

The doctor’s words about potential causes lit up something in your mind. 

Deli meats, infections, alcohol and smoking, certain herbal teas— 

Your thoughts drifted to all those teas you’d sipped to ease your nausea. You felt like a complete fool. 

You tried not to dwell on it, but the guilt still gnawed at you. 

The doctor prescribed some vitamins to strengthen your pregnancy and support the baby’s health. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for the IV drip to finish. JJ insisted you try to sleep. You doubted you could, and you were right. You drifted in and out of restless slumber. 

By the time you left the hospital and arrived back at your house, dawn was breaking. 

“I’m throwing out all the herbal teas in this house,” you muttered, reaching for the flowerpot where you hid your spare key. JJ stopped you midway, brushing past to reach the pot himself. He dug through the soil, found the key quickly, and turned toward the door.

“I’ll take care of the trash,” he said, struggling to unlock the door while you lingered behind him, taking deep breaths and letting your eyes wander. It didn’t help. You just wanted to peel off the hospital clothes clinging to your skin and step into a shower to wash away the ache.

When JJ finally got the door open, your eyes darted skyward. The air was cool in a way you loved, and the crispness of the morning felt oddly soothing.

The sound of the door closing snapped your focus back to JJ. He was looking at you too. You opened your mouth to ask why he’d shut the door when you remembered what the inside must look like. There was probably blood on the floor. Maybe he was grossed out—

“Oh…” Your eyes widened as you reached for the key in his hand, but he moved it behind his back. “I—I forgot all about that. Look, let me—let me just… I’ll take care of it.”

You watched his face shift into something complicated as he blocked your attempt. “You sit,” he said quietly, his hands guiding you gently but firmly toward the steps. You blinked at him, confused.

You really didn’t understand.

“It’s not the first time I’ve had to clean up blood,” he muttered. When the meaning behind his words clicked, you tried to get up quickly but winced as a sharp pain cut through your abdomen. You slumped back down, clutching the nearest surface. You hadn’t even realized it was JJ’s arm. 

“Easy,” he said, crouching instantly to check on you. “Are you okay? I can take you right back to the hospital if—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, shaking your head even as the pain subsided. You exhaled deeply and leaned back. “I just forgot what the place looked like inside. If you help me up, I’ll go in and—”

JJ’s gaze stopped you mid-sentence. It was the kind of look that made you question whether he thought you were serious. His hands stayed firm on your arms, scanning your face for any sign you weren’t okay so he could haul you right back to the ER.

“Stop,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. It froze you in place. “Do you really think I’d let you clean that up? Not a chance.”

Your eyes flicked from the closed door back to him. You hadn’t realized his thumb was tracing a soothing pattern on your arm. “But when you closed the door, I thought—”

“I didn’t want you to see it again, that’s all.” His voice softened. “Just that.” 

It wasn’t something you were used to—this kind of kindness, this tolerance. As the silence stretched between you, you looked away, unsure of how to respond. His thumb kept moving in steady circles against your skin.

“Here’s the deal,” he said, his grip on your arm briefly tightening to get your attention. JJ took a deep breath and glanced at the key in his hand. “You tell me where the cleaning supplies are. I’ll go in, clean it all up, and you sit here until I’m done. Got it?”

Gentle parenting. Again. 

Your head nodded on its own, and JJ’s face lit up with a small smile. His dimples caught your eye before his touch slipped away and he stood.

“Under the kitchen sink,” you murmured. JJ nodded as if committing your words to memory before heading to the door. “Be right back,” he said, disappearing inside and leaving the door ajar.

The feeling that bubbled up in you was impossible to describe. Strange. Having someone step in to help, to take charge of something for you—it was unfamiliar. JJ, of all people.

Sure, you were friends, but this? This was something else. You didn’t know how to feel or what to say, only that it left you warm despite the chill outside. 

You’d expected to clean up the mess yourself, even for a moment. You weren’t lying; the thought made your stomach turn. Cleaning someone else’s blood? That wasn’t your thing.

But your stomach hadn’t turned when it came to JJ. When he’d been lying in your guest bathroom, covered in blood, you hadn’t flinched. Bandaging his wounds, cleaning him up so he wouldn’t get an infection—it hadn’t fazed you. 

You found yourself wondering what he thought about you. You were just a kook girl—Rafe’s ex, rich, golf clubs, parties. You weren’t anything special. The most notable thing about you right now was being pregnant. 

It was weird that JJ would even want to be friends with you, that this was what had brought you together. Would he treat you the same if you weren’t pregnant? Would he still be so kind, so compassionate?

And what about you? 

Would you have been this open to befriending a troubled guy if your circumstances were reversed? 

The thought didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t fair to boil it down to pity or your pregnancy. Your friendship felt real. JJ wasn’t risking his neck for some random pregnant girl—he was doing it for a friend. 

JJ would do anything for his friends. That’s just who he was. 

And you were his friend. At least, that’s how you saw him. But what about him? Did he see you the same way, or had you misread everything? 

“Nice place you’ve got here.” His voice startled you. You jumped and turned to see him standing close, smiling faintly. “All done. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.” 

JJ held out his hand to help you up, and you wondered how long he’d been there. You didn’t hesitate to take his hand, and he quickly offered the other to steady you. “Slowly,” he said, helping you to your feet with careful precision. He didn’t let go, watching your face closely for any signs of discomfort. 

“You good?” he asked, his tone uncertain. His hands stayed firm, waiting for confirmation. His eyes were searching yours. 

You nodded. “I’m good,” you murmured. 

JJ’s face broke into a proud smile. “I left the place spotless. You could eat off the floor,” he said, chuckling as he released one hand to rest the other gently on your back. He guided you through the open door, and you couldn’t help but notice how clean the floor really was. Not a single stain remained. 

You let him lead you inside, wanting to thank him but unable to find the words. 

“Hungry?” you asked, desperate for a distraction. His eyes met yours, his brows lifting in surprise before he shrugged. 

“Not really. Are you?” 

You shook your head, but deep down, all you wanted was to find a way to repay him. 

JJ stepped back a bit and quickly shut the door. You watched him as he scanned the room. His eyes didn’t linger on you for long; instead, they wandered around your living room. “Nice place.”

You nodded in agreement. You liked your home. It wasn’t big, but it was enough for you. “I like it too.”

When JJ placed his hand on your back, you walked together. You needed a shower, but the dull ache in your stomach made you feel uneasy. “I’m going to shower.”

When you said it, looking at him, JJ quickly nodded. He stayed by your side as you made your way to the stairs, helping you up to the second floor. But a sharp pain in your stomach made you stop dead in your tracks. Your hand instinctively went to your stomach. Everything still felt terrifying.

JJ’s protective instincts kicked in immediately. He stepped in front of you, holding your hand, leaning down to catch your gaze as if to check if something was wrong. “Shit…”

As JJ stared at you with wide, worried eyes, you squeezed his hand. It felt like a heavy period cramp, but after what had happened, you couldn’t treat it as just normal. “Shit. What do I do? Do you need me to do something—?” You shook your head. You opened your mouth to tell him you’d be fine, but JJ kept rambling. “Do you want to sit? Let’s sit. Or I can bring you water—damn it. Just tell me. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“JJ, baby is okay, calm down.” When you looked up and spoke, you met JJ’s worried gaze. He’d stopped talking, but you could still see the panic in his eyes.

You steadied yourself, gripping his hand for extra support, and took a deep breath. “I’m more worried about whether you’re okay.” JJ placed his hand on your back again, opening the bathroom door with the other hand, while his brow furrowed. The silence in the house as he moved around felt eerie to you. “I’ll wait by the door until you’re done, okay? Just call out if you need anything. I’ll be right here.”

He looked at you as if seeking confirmation. “Okay.”

Your response seemed to satisfy him. He quickly stepped back, holding the door. “I’m right here. Just say my name.” Then, he closed the door.

You weren’t sure how to feel. Honestly, you didn’t want to feel anything. This shower wasn’t about comfort; it was about necessity. It was a mission to wash away the filth you felt clinging to you.

So the shower was quick.

You cleaned yourself up and stepped out, wrapping yourself in a robe. Before leaving the bathroom, you caught your reflection in the mirror one last time. Your face was almost ghostly pale.

When you opened the door to leave, you found JJ sitting on the floor across from the bathroom, leaning against the wall. He was nearly dozing off, but the sound of the door opening made his eyes snap wide open. He rubbed his face quickly and pushed himself up with the wall for support. “You okay?” he asked the moment he got to his feet. He was standing right in front of you.

You nodded. “I’m going to set up the guest room for you.” You didn’t want him sleeping on the floor or wherever he might end up. You both needed rest. He’d stayed awake the entire evening. You’d tried to sleep but hadn’t really managed to. Rest was overdue for both of you.

As you crossed your arms over your chest and took a step toward the guest room, JJ’s hand on your arm stopped you. “I’m fine. I don’t need to sleep.”

Liar. He looked like he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to sleep too.” JJ shook his head as if he didn’t hear a word you said.

“Doesn’t matter. You might need me. What if I don’t wake up? What if I don’t hear you—” JJ ran his hands through his hair, glancing around, visibly anxious.

“I’m going to sleep too. If I need anything, I promise I’ll call for you. Please.” Your words, especially the plea, seemed to break through to him. He dropped his gaze to the floor, weighing your words.

“Fine,” he mumbled, his tone almost defeated. Then, he looked up at you. “But only after I know you’re asleep.”

You had no idea where this sudden surge of protectiveness had come from, but—it wasn’t unwelcome. Damn.

You were surprised he gave in so quickly. You thought he’d argue longer. Nodding, you agreed. “I’ll show you your room.”

He followed you to the guest room silently. Afterward, you didn’t exchange many words. You went to your own room and shut the door.

The doctor had mentioned there might be some light spotting for a few more days. It was unnerving, but they assured you it was normal. Just small amounts, they’d said, but if it got heavy, you’d need to go to the hospital. That would be a warning sign.

You slipped off your robe and put on fresh undergarments. The mirror in front of you offered a full view of your stomach. Your hand drifted over the slight swell, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Knowing they were still there was everything.

And the small bump—it looked so perfect. You loved it. Pregnancy suited you in a way you hadn’t expected. You felt—beautiful. Just...different, but in the best way.

Was this a pregnancy kink? 

No. Definitely not. But seeing yourself like this made you feel strong. Attractive.

You pulled your gaze from the mirror and grabbed a T-shirt and sweatpants from your closet. After getting dressed, you stepped out of your room, wanting to check on JJ. “JJ?” you called out. His door was open.

“What happened? Shit—” A loud noise came from his room, and your brows furrowed. JJ rushed out of the doorway, looking frantic. “What’s wrong? God, did something happen?”

On any other day, you might’ve laughed at this, but now didn’t seem like the time. To calm him down, you placed a hand on his chest. “JJ, relax. I’m fine, okay? I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

JJ closed his eyes for a moment, realizing nothing was wrong. He let out a deep breath, shoulders sagging slightly.

With a grin, you teased, “Could you maybe dial down the panic a bit?”

JJ ruffled his hair. He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped, shaking his head. “You scared me,” he said finally, his voice serious enough to wipe the smile off your face.

His eyes locked onto yours, and you could hear the heaviness in his breathing. “God—you really scared me. I just—I don’t know. The thought of something happening and not being there...” His hands moved nervously, and he didn’t blink.

“Getting a call like that, in the middle of the night, from a friend—do you know how terrifying that is? Don’t expect me to be calm, not right now. Do you know what went through my head in those two hours it took to get to you?” His voice wasn’t angry, just filled with a kind of helplessness. You stayed quiet, letting him get it all out.

“Not being able to reach you during those minutes... God—when you told me you were alone here, my only thought should be to get to you. If I had been here sooner, maybe... maybe it wouldn’t have happened.” He shut his eyes tightly. You shook your head and grabbed his arms to stop him.

“This was my choice,” you said, watching the sorrow in JJ’s face like a weight pressing on your chest. “Moving here, deciding to be on my own—that was my choice.”

“As your friend, I shouldn’t have let you be alone. Especially now, when you’re so vulnerable. I should’ve checked on you—” JJ seemed bent on blaming himself. Despite knowing it was your decision, he couldn’t shake the thought that he should’ve been there for you.

As your friend.

You hadn’t expected it to feel this heavy. This feeling, of having a real friend—it was weighty in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Not painful, just...profound, because it was the first time you’d truly had it.

Having someone who genuinely cared—it was overwhelming.

“JJ, I chose this. None of this is your fault.”

“I should’ve been there.”

For a moment, you thought you saw JJ’s eyes glisten, but he quickly turned his head away. Even if he had been there, there was nothing he could’ve done, and he didn’t seem to understand that. You hadn’t fallen, you hadn’t hurt yourself. There was nothing to save you from.

JJ ran a hand through his hair, as he always did. “Oh God...” Then, you felt his hand settle on your back, pulling you into a tight embrace. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him.

When one of JJ’s hands moved into your damp hair, you closed your eyes tightly. For a while, neither of you said a word. You just stayed there, holding on. 

“You didn’t dry your hair again, did you?” His words came in one breath, followed by a small smile tugging at his lips. You pulled back slightly to look at him. JJ’s hand slid away from your hair, but the one on your back stayed firm. Your arms had loosened just a bit, yet the two of you remained close enough to touch. 

“Old habits.” You noticed his lips curling up too, though his eyes were a little red. 

“That’s a habit we’ll have to break. I’m drying your hair—no way am I letting you get sick.” 

You stepped back, nodding at him. When he gestured toward the bathroom with his head, you laughed and walked ahead, leaving him to follow. He really was going to dry your hair, huh? 

What a gentleman. 

You were too shy to offer, too worried you’d say something dumb and ruin the moment. But the way he acted—so considerate—made you feel seen. 

Maybe you shouldn’t let him. It felt like crossing a line. Then again, he’d called you his friend. Confirmed that you were his friend. 

“Would you stay with me for a few days?” The words tumbled out before you could overthink them. If you hesitated even a second longer, you would’ve said nothing at all. You’d only mull it over and eventually bury it in fear. 

JJ glanced at you while plugging in the hairdryer. “I’m not leaving you. Honestly, even if you hadn’t asked, I was already planning to stay.” His dimples appeared with his grin. 

Your lips mirrored his, stretching into a big smile. JJ turned on the dryer and began working on your hair. 

-

"Is this my shirt?" 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you quickly turned your gaze toward JJ. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding up a shirt—the one he had given you at the beach. That day you both fell asleep on the boat. 

"I figured you’d have tossed it by now," he said, spinning the shirt lazily in his hand, a grin tugging at his lips. Even from a distance, you could see his dimples. 

"That’s mine now." 

JJ’s eyes snapped to yours, his eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. He gestured at the shirt dramatically. "This? This has always been mine. And it will stay mine." 

Without a second thought, you placed the fruit bowl from your lap onto the couch and stood up. As you walked toward him, you couldn’t miss the playful smirk on his face. 

"Not anymore," you replied, yanking the shirt from his hands. After all, it was given to you, and you had no intention of giving it back. Besides, it was soft, and you liked it. That was that. Turning on your heel, you headed back to the couch, ready to resume eating your strawberries. 

"Possessive, huh? Hot." 

You paused mid-sit, narrowing your eyes at him, his mischievous smile still plastered across his face. "You’re disgusting." 

You settled into the couch, the sound of JJ’s laughter echoing as you tucked the shirt behind you, out of his reach. The fruit bowl returned to your lap, and you focused on the reality show playing on TV. 

A moment later, you heard JJ’s footsteps. He vaulted over the back of the couch and sprawled lazily a short distance away from you. Half-reclining, he tilted his head to look at you, propping it up with his hand. "You mad at me?" 

You shrugged as you pulled your legs up onto the couch. "What would I even be mad about? Don’t flatter yourself." 

Apparently emboldened by your response, JJ reached for the fruit bowl in your lap. Without missing a beat, you swatted his hand away. 

"Because you’re not worth it," you added with a smirk, knowing it would sting. 

JJ’s jaw dropped in exaggerated shock, his hand clutching his chest dramatically as he gasped, loud and theatrical. What a drama queen. 

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a smile, but it was hard—especially with him acting like this. 

JJ had been staying with you for a few days now—nearly a week. He’d told his friends he had "stuff to do," but really, his only task had been keeping you company. Not that he admitted it outright. 

The first few days had been awkward for both of you. You were tense, and he was, well, JJ. But by the third day, you’d fallen into a rhythm. 

Turns out your family hadn’t been ignoring your calls—they were simply on a flight. That made sense, so you didn’t hold it against them. You didn’t even tell them about the scare. You just mentioned a bad dream, said you’d worried about them. It wasn’t exactly true, but there was no point in alarming them over something that had already passed. 

So, you acted like nothing had happened. 

Talking to Rafe, though? That had been strange. Hearing his voice after so many months had stirred something in you—a wound you’d thought had healed. 

At first, you hadn’t planned on answering his call. You wanted to ignore it, let it ring out. But when he called a second time, you couldn’t stop yourself from picking up, even though part of you wanted to tell him to leave you alone. 

You didn’t regret it. Even now, if you were in the same situation, you’d do it again. It wasn’t stupidity—it was necessity. Back then, you’d needed all the help you could get. 

You’d lied to him, claiming you were drunk. It wasn’t the most believable excuse, given your condition, but it had slipped out before you could think. After that, you ended the call and prayed he wouldn’t bother you again. 

He didn’t. 

Rafe didn’t call or text again—not that he ever really had before. 

So, you pushed him from your mind, or at least tried to. You focused on JJ instead, and it helped. 

With him, you laughed, watched movies, and, for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel so alone. 

The sound of someone else’s voice in your house, the way he teased you, the comfort of knowing someone cared—it made you feel lighter. Happier. 

You even found yourself enjoying little things: the morning sounds of the TV downstairs, the smell of something burning as JJ attempted breakfast, the way his footsteps echoed through the halls. It felt… normal. Like how things were supposed to be. 

Could you manage on your own? Sure. But having someone there? That felt better. 

And the house was big—plenty of room for two. Maybe even three. 

In just a week, you’d laughed more than you had in all the time you’d lived there. Maybe it was JJ’s personality, or maybe it was simply having someone around. Either way, you weren’t complaining. 

You especially appreciated his presence during the harder moments. Like when nausea hit, or when you needed something and he showed up with hot chocolate instead of tea, filling the house with its sweet smell. 

It was a rhythm you hadn’t known you’d needed. Even mundane things, like ordering takeout because neither of you felt like cooking, or going on morning walks together, had a way of making everything seem a little brighter. 

You’d never spent this much time with him before. And yet here he was, nearly a week in, and it felt… easy. 

But there were moments, fleeting as they were, when you couldn’t help but wonder how he treated his other friends—John B, Kiara, Pope, and Sarah. You didn’t like the feeling it gave you. You weren’t usually the jealous type, but it burned in the back of your mind. 

Did he treat them like this? Were they as close as you two had been these past days? You hated the thought, not because it was JJ, but because you’d never had that kind of friendship before. 

That kind of closeness, the ease of it—it was foreign to you. And you wanted it, even if you hated admitting it. 

JJ poked your exposed stomach, snapping you out of your thoughts. His finger traced lazy circles on your skin as his eyes met yours. "Did I interrupt something?" 

You shook your head, grateful for the distraction. "Not at all." 

When you smiled at him, he grinned back without hesitation. JJ’s smiles were contagious, impossible to resist. 

"You were zoning out," he said. "I called your name a couple of times, but you didn’t answer." 

"I didn’t even notice." You straightened your posture slightly, meeting his curious gaze. 

JJ’s eyes dropped back to your stomach, and he smirked as he poked it again. "Your mom says I can’t eat the fruit. Hey, you hear me in there?" 

He was speaking to your bump now, as though he expected a response. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. 

"When will she start kicking?" he asked, glancing up at you. 

You pulled the hem of your shirt higher, resting your hand on your belly. "The books say around five months, so… anytime now, I guess." 

JJ nodded, his hand resting next to yours, a soft grin tugging at his lips. 

“Are you going to share your fruit with me now?” JJ smirked as he asked, and when you started laughing at his words, he straightened up, sitting upright on the couch. You adjusted your shirt slightly, and you could feel his eyes lingering.

You turned your head toward him. “Are you going to tattle on me to my daughter again?” You asked him seriously, raising an eyebrow. JJ shook his head dramatically.

“Not if you hand over a few strawberries.” With a sigh, you gave in, holding out the bowl in your lap. He snatched a strawberry quickly, as if he’d been waiting for it.

“You can be so stubborn sometimes.” You grabbed a strawberry yourself, mirroring him. JJ leaned over to grab the remote from the table, letting out a small chuckle.

“Me? Stubborn? Please. Not when you’re around—impossible.” He leaned back into the couch, flipping through channels like he wasn’t just going to end up opening YouTube anyway. 

The past few days, all he’d done was either watch movies or binge random YouTube videos. It was official—he was an iPad kid.

“Me? What stubbornness are you even talking about?” He finally turned his gaze away from the TV, arching an eyebrow at you. His expression practically screamed, ‘Seriously?’.

“From the moment we met, all you’ve done is argue about everything. Don’t even try to deny it; I know you too well for that.” His tone was calm, but there was a teasing edge to it, one he clearly added on purpose just to get under your skin. And it was working. You were sure of it.

“And all you ever do is... complain,” you shot back, saying the first thing that came to mind. JJ laughed dryly, his attention drifting back to the TV.

Of course, it wasn’t entirely true. Sure, he was as stubborn as you, but still. 

“This debate is officially over. You’ve lost. Completely.” You couldn’t help but laugh again before lunging forward, trying to snatch the remote from his hand. “Hand it over.”

JJ, startled by your sudden move, tried to pull away quickly, but he was already at the edge of the couch with nowhere to go. It didn’t take much effort to grab the remote from him.

He could’ve made it harder for you. He could’ve easily hidden the remote or kept it away. But you knew JJ well enough to know he’d never risk accidentally hurting you, not even slightly. Instead, as you leaned over him, he instinctively steadied you with one hand to make sure you didn’t fall.

“Whoa, claws in, tiger!”

With the remote firmly in your grasp, you plopped back onto your spot on the couch. You grabbed the bowl of strawberries sitting between you two and moved it to your other side for good measure before immediately exiting YouTube. “We’re watching what I want. You— you—”

“What about me?” JJ’s tone was playful, his eyes fixed on you with an amused look. He was clearly enjoying this—watching you get all flustered. You wanted to smack that grin right off his face. Preferably with the remote.

“You don’t deserve it.” JJ’s laughter echoed so loud you felt like it could’ve been heard across the whole street. It sounded... annoyingly fun. But you didn’t look back at him. You flipped through channels until you landed on some trashy reality show. That’s what you’d watch, whether he liked it or not.

“A dumb reality show deserves your attention, but I don’t? Really, princess?” You nodded furiously, biting into another strawberry for emphasis.

Damn hormones. They were driving you crazy.

“Alright, white flag. Let’s call a truce. Deal?” He extended his hand toward you, his grin still smug. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying messing with you.

For a brief second, you considered ignoring him. Leaving his hand hanging and pretending you didn’t notice. Just keeping your focus on the TV.

But it was only a fleeting thought. Before you knew it, you were shaking his hand. “For now,” you said, your tone warning. JJ just nodded, satisfied.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, your phone buzzed on the table, grabbing both your attention. John B’s name and picture lit up the screen. You pulled your hand back from JJ’s as he adjusted his posture, glancing at the phone for a moment before picking it up, slow and deliberate. Holding it in one hand, he rubbed the back of his neck with the other.

“I’ll take this outside,” he said, standing up and waiting a beat, as if for your approval. When you nodded, he gave a short nod back and headed for the porch.

You watched through the glass door as JJ paced back and forth, phone pressed to his ear. It was strange, watching him like this—like you were peeking into a part of his world you didn’t belong to. There was a tension in his posture, something that contrasted sharply with his usual carefree energy. 

As he talked, you busied yourself in the kitchen, cleaning up just to give your hands something to do. But your mind kept drifting back to him. Watching him through the door felt like glimpsing a piece of his life he hadn’t shared with you.

When you finished, JJ came back inside, closing the door quietly behind him. His eyes immediately found yours, and he hesitated for a moment, like he was trying to figure out how to tell you something. Hands shoved in his pockets, he took a few steps closer.

“What is it?” You dropped the cloth you were holding, giving him your full attention. JJ shrugged, his expression suddenly unreadable, but it gave you the sinking feeling something was off.

“John B and Sarah are getting married in two days,” he said finally, his voice low but clear.

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. “Seriously? I mean, I figured this day would come, but—cute.”

JJ nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. But there was something behind it, something you couldn’t quite place, like a shadow lingering just out of sight. “Yeah, John B proposed a while back. They had to delay it because of... stuff, but I guess it’s happening now.”

When JJ scratched the back of his neck, you could feel his unease, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. The news brought a strange ache to your chest—a reminder that you weren’t really a part of his world, his friends. You didn’t even know them. And the thought of JJ not being here... it crept in before you could stop it.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” The words slipped out before you could catch them, sounding more like an admission than a question, like you were bracing yourself for the inevitable.

You’d known this day would come. But still—whatever.

JJ looked at you, caught off guard by the question. He hesitated before answering. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” he said slowly, his tone hinting at reluctance. “But... what about you? Have you reached out to your mom? Can she come here?”

You shook your head, your hands gripping the marble counter instinctively. “I don’t know. I didn’t tell them about the hospital thing, so… they might find it weird.”

JJ nodded. His hands were in his pockets, and he nudged at the floor with his foot like he was playing with something invisible. He looked uncomfortable.

“John B still doesn’t know you’re not living with your dad?” The question slipped out before you could stop it. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked, but if he was planning to go back to the island, you had to know. You didn’t want him living on the streets—or worse, finding him bloodied and bruised again. Especially now that you weren’t there on the island, the thought of him sleeping out in the open sent a pang through your chest.

The silence between you was brief, but it hung heavy. JJ’s furrowed brow made it clear that he was just as unsettled as you were. He took a long breath, his head tilting slightly downward. “John B doesn’t know I don’t talk to my dad,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet but resolute.

His words tightened something deep inside you. When you looked at him, you could see the tension etched on his face. “Only Pope knows,” he added, his shoulders tensing slightly as if bracing for a reaction.

That revelation only deepened the stillness between you. Seeing the cracks in JJ’s life hurt you and confused you at the same time. But you didn’t want to make it worse by pointing it out. You held back, careful not to say anything that might hurt him further.

You hated the silence that lingered between you two. It wasn’t like either of you to leave things hanging like this during tense moments. It felt... wrong. 

“I could leave tonight if you want,” JJ said after a while, his tone still calm but firm. “Or… tomorrow. Whatever works for you.”

His words stung, fanning the ache that was already growing inside you. You knew he needed to leave, but you still wanted him to stay. You’d grown so used to having him around—spending time with him had been comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. The idea of him leaving now made something in you twist uncomfortably.

You closed your eyes tightly, gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. When you opened them and looked at him, you hesitated, weighing the words you wanted to say. Was it selfish? Too much to ask? What if he said no? You knew he had to go, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him to stay.

Taking a deep breath, you turned your gaze to him. “Maybe…” you started, your voice dropping to a near whisper, “maybe you could think about staying here after— wedding?”

JJ’s head snapped toward you, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to figure out what you really meant. The room was so quiet, you could hear the sound of both your breaths.

He said your name softly, like he was testing the weight of it. Then he paused, his lips parting as if to speak before closing them again without saying anything.

His surprise was written all over him. His lips slightly parted, his gaze locked onto yours, JJ looked completely unsure of what to do. Slowly, he pulled his hands out of his pockets, rubbing his fingers together nervously.

“I know…” you said, dropping your gaze to the floor. Your voice was shaky and gentle, laced with a vulnerability you weren’t used to showing. It felt ridiculous to even have this conversation. You hadn’t realized you could be this bold. “I know you have to go. Your friends are waiting for you. But… if you wanted to, I mean—” You hesitated, your words barely audible now. “I’d be happy to have you stay here.”

JJ stayed quiet for another beat, his expression distant but conflicted. Whatever you’d said had clearly struck a chord with him. The idea seemed to catch him off guard but also made him think.

He said your name again, softer this time. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he hesitated for a long moment. “It’s… not that simple. I mean…” His hand went up to his hair, fingers pushing through it as he rubbed the back of his neck. “My friends are there. My life’s… there. You know?” He exhaled deeply, clearly struggling to find the right words.

Seeing the indecision in his eyes made your chest tighten. Am I asking too much? Am I a burden? The thought of him choosing you over everything else felt naïve. Not that it was about choosing you exactly, but still… expecting him to stay felt foolish.

His friends had been his whole world for years. Would he really leave them behind just because you asked? Would he abandon everything like you had, even for a little while?

For JJ, staying meant leaving his friends behind. Watching everyone’s lives from a distance instead of being part of the chaos. And coming back afterward? It might make things even messier.

But then again… he knew things weren’t the same anymore. They weren’t high school kids chasing trouble anymore. They’d grown up, and with that came responsibilities. Responsibilities that seemed to pull them all in different directions, slowly but surely.

Pope and Cleo were working for Pope’s dad, figuring out their own lives while enjoying being together. Kiara was helping her parents with the family business. John B and Sarah were preparing to start a family. And JJ… JJ felt like he was drifting. Like the ties that once bound them together were fraying. 

“They all seem to have something,” JJ said suddenly, his voice distant. He wasn’t even looking at you now, his thoughts clearly spiraling. He didn’t know what answer to give you. Honestly, he didn’t even know what he wanted for himself. He just… didn’t want to keep drifting.

“You have something too,” you said firmly, your tone gentle but sure. “You’ve been here for me. You helped me when I was alone. When I was scared… you were here.” When you finished, you looked at him, watching closely for his reaction.

JJ shifted uncomfortably at your words. His eyes seemed to weigh them carefully. There was still hesitation in his expression, but something else was there too. Maybe guilt. Maybe understanding.

He didn’t really have anywhere to go. His relationship with his dad was a disaster, and he had no intention of fixing it. He couldn’t crash at John B’s place forever—gosh, the guy was getting married. Sarah would probably put a lock on their door. He couldn’t just hang around like their adopted kid. 

Pope’s house? Already too crowded, with Cleo practically living there at this point. And Kiara’s parents? Yeah, they absolutely hated him. Living on the streets forever wasn’t an option either...

The silence stretched on. Time seemed to slow, pressing down on the two of you like an invisible weight. The only sound was the faint rustling of the trees outside in the wind. JJ looked at you, and when his eyes met yours, something inside you cracked. Asking him to stay felt like you were adding to the burdens he already carried. But it wasn’t selfish—you weren’t demanding or desperate. There was a fragility in the way you asked, a quiet understanding between the two of you. In that moment, JJ realized you were just as lost as he was.

“I’ll stay,” he said finally, his voice quiet and hesitant. “But—” He paused, his gaze locking onto yours again. “It’s not forever. Just… for a while. We’ll figure out what comes next together.”

The wave of relief that washed over you was overwhelming. A grin spread across your face, and you shifted in place, resisting the urge to throw your arms around him. 

JJ deciding to stay wasn’t just about his circumstances—it was about trust, about the connection you shared. But you could also see that it wasn’t an easy decision for him. He felt alone, in a way that mirrored your own loneliness. 

He leaned against the kitchen counter, staring into the distance for a moment. “Sometimes,” he started softly, “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. So… maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.”

You smiled at him, your lips trembling slightly at the edges. “JJ,” you said gently, your voice steady but warm, “We’ll be okay.”

JJ didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He shook his head lightly and said, “Yeah. We will.” There was something different in his eyes this time—something warmer, more at peace.

You couldn’t put into words the happiness you felt in that moment. This was what communication was about. If you hadn’t asked, you would’ve been left feeling miserable, JJ would’ve walked away, and you’d have been alone. But now… 

He was staying. With you. 

[auroracalisto]

to call you mine.

anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 2.4k words summary: anthony comes to the realization that perhaps he needs you more than just a few times a month. can be read as a standalone, but it is a continuation of this short fic here. tw: reader comes from a poorer background which is discussed in the first half of this, mentions of scandals, anxious thoughts, idk man i don't think there really needs to be a tw for this. not really edited though so there may be a few mistakes i missed on my initial two read-throughs. :-)

"I beg you," you softly said. "I beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow." He looked back at you as he finished buttoning up his shirt, grabbing his trousers from the end of the bed and pulling them on rather quickly. "Y/n, you know I can't do that," he said. "As much as I wish I could." He crossed the threshold to be beside of you, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I do wish I could. But it's not going to happen. Not today." read the full blurb here.

Scandalous. Unworthy. Only the words of a scandalized mind haunted your every step.

Compared to your lover, you were a simpleton—gullible, unready for the truth that the world was so willing to give. The truth that you weren't worthy of Anthony Bridgerton. A Viscount. Someone of your status wouldn't come close to being with a Viscount, no matter how much pining you did to try and get him to stay with you longer than the early hours of the morning.

You knew this. And yet, your heart pined for him. Your heart ached for him.

Day in and day out, you wished for him to stay just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, in your arms. In your bed. In the warmth of your embrace.

Oh, God, what you would give to have Anthony until your dying breath.

But the world wasn't fair. The 'ton did as it would, and if any suspected Anthony had been with you, the repercussions would be immense. Perhaps not for Anthony, but for you.

Your family would never hear the end of it. You would be scandalized until the end of your days.

You would be happy just to be beside of him. To breathe the same air as he.

We never get what we truly want, do we, dear reader?

The sanctity of your bedroom, despite how run down in may be, was all you'd share with Anthony. It seemed as if that was the only moment in time when you could share your body with his, your thoughts with his, your heart with his.

It would never be enough.

You came from a less than savory background. Your mother married for love instead of status, and married a simple printer from the slums of London.

Happy, yes, but the money wasn't what your mother was used to. At times, it seemed to go up and missing, and it would lead to arguments between your parents. As much as they loved each other, it did not help that they could not agree... financially.

But nonetheless, when the time was right and your mother was able to scrounge together enough money for a new dress and a new set of clothes for you, the two of you walked through the 'ton. She'd go and visit her mother, whom would accept her with open arms unless her father was around. She'd walk the same path as the Bridgertons' and Featheringtons' and ignore the questioning looks that were sent her way. She was after all a mysterious woman—to them, at least.

A woman who married for love. A woman who married a printer. How incredulous to think about for those of the 'ton. When it first happened, the scandal was immense.

And now, it seemed, you were in the same boat. Not wanting to marry for money but wanting to marry for love.

Love of the one and only Viscount Bridgerton. The one who could hardly look at you in the daylight, only seeking your comforts when the moon was high in the sky.

Today was one of the days that your mother finally had a new dress. It was quite charming, the deep green fabric complimenting her skin quite nicely. Your outfit was equally charming, in the color of your choice.

"Darling," your mother said, grabbing onto your arm as the two of you walked the path through the 'ton. You could remember the last time you had walked this path, nearly two months ago.

How time had flown since then.

The time spent with Anthony not only haunting your bed but your heart as well.

"Look," she said, squeezing your flesh with warm fingers. She doesn't point, but she nudges you and motions with her head.

Your eyes flickered towards where she directed, and you could feel your heart plummet.

Anthony Bridgerton and his family were out for a stroll. His brother seemed rather amused over something, even going as far as calling his brother's name.

You looked at your mother, feeling rather... ridiculous for how nervous you felt.

"We should keep walking, mother," you said.

"Nonsense! Long ago, I was quite close to Violet Bridgerton. I'd like to say hello, Y/n."

"But mother—"

"—it is not often that I allow myself a stroll through the 'ton. The carriage out is an expense in itself, Y/n. Please. Allow me to say hello to an old friend."

You paused, a soft frown on your lips. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry mother."

She let out a soft sigh and patted your arm, giving a small nod. She continued to walk forward with you.

When Violet Bridgerton spotted the two of you, she began to smile.

She called your mother's name and immediately left her children's side, coming to the woman she had once called a dear friend.

"Oh, my, how lovely you look!" Violet hugged your mother tightly once she had let go of your arm.

You stood to the side, eyes flickering from your mother to Violet. Then, when you believed it was safe, you glanced towards the bane of your existence—Anthony Bridgerton.

He was looking.

Your eyes widened a bit and you quickly looked away.

Just a few nights before had he been in your bed, looking at you with those delicious brown eyes. Just a few nights before had he ravished your body, looking at you as if you were the diamond he had been searching for all his life.

You could barely look at him without becoming flustered.

As Violet and your mother spoke, you hardly paid attention. Only when your mother said your name did you properly look to them.

"Remember Y/n?" your mother asked.

Violet smiled. "Oh, my," she said. "They certainly have grown, hm? I remember when they were just a little thing. How old are you, now, dear? Close to Daphne's age, yes?"

You blinked slowly and mutter out an answer.

Violet heard anyway. "Well," she softly said. "You are a beauty, through and through. Your mother was always quite beautiful growing up. You are lucky to have that with you, dear."

You weakly smiled. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."

Violet smiled softly at your politeness. She looked back at your mother. "Come. Walk with my family. There is much I'd like to talk to you about before you go and hide for the next few months, friend."

Your mother didn't look at you as she happily agreed. You would have protested, but the excited look on her face made you hesitate.

You could deal with being near the one you secretly loved if it meant your mother would be happy, even if momentarily.

The sun is high in the sky as the two of you walk towards Violet's family.

You see as Anthony's brother, the one you believe to be Benedict, nudges him rather roughly. Anthony looked to you, face paling at the sight of you.

He had promised you only nights before that you would see him again soon. You supposed he kept his promise, if not crudely done.

You could hardly look at him as you walked along with your mother, looking anywhere but him.

His sister, Eloise, is the one who comes to stand beside of you.

"You are Y/n," Eloise blurted, looking at you with wide, curious eyes. It wasn't often she met one of her brother's conquests—hell, she wasn't even sure if he knew she had found out. Eloise is rather... studious when she wants to be, when it comes to her brothers.

You blinked slowly as you looked at her. "I... I am, yes."

Eloise let out a soft hum, looking over her shoulder. Anthony is staring, saying something out of earshot to Benedict. Eloise then looked out towards the path as they walked.

"It is nice to have a name to the face," she said. "It is often that I only hear your name and have nothing more to go by."

You blinked slowly. "How did you—"

"—he speaks of you," she quickly said. "Often."

"He does?"

Your voice is small—weak, even. As if you couldn't believe the words you were hearing.

"Yes," Eloise said, a humble smile on her lips. "He does."

Benedict Bridgerton looked to his brother, a not-so-subtle grin on his lips. "You act as if you have never been in love, brother."

"I haven't," Anthony said, walking along the path. He looked towards Y/n and her mother as they walked alongside of his mother.

"Why do you lie?" Benedict teased. "It is as if you have never been so in-tune with your own feelings than now. You know you have been in love. You are staring at the very object of your affections, and yet you are letting them slip right through your fingertips."

He looked back at his brother, going to protest, but it dies on his lips. He knows he is right.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he would go back to them—that he would see them soon enough, that he would ravish them on another night.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he needed to return to his family before morning.

He was a Viscount, for god's sake. He could do as he pleased.

But something within him didn't want to do as he pleased just because of that. He wanted more. He wanted more from Y/n, from himself. From the love he knew he could create with them.

He would be better. For them. For himself, and for his family.

Days passed by rather quickly. It was as if your lonely nights had blurred into one. Not that you were complaining. How could you? The longer time passed, the sooner you would see Anthony once more.

In the early hours of an especially difficult night, the knock at your window is unmistakable.

How childish it was for him to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention. It was as if he hadn't grown, despite being at the right age of nine and twenty.

You go to your window and look down, seeing none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You open the window to peer down at him, a deep frown on your lips.

"Anthony—"

"—please, Y/n," he said, almost desperate. The way he says your name makes you melt. "We need to talk. Now."

You blinked slowly and stared at him for almost a solid minute. You reach over and grab a shawl to keep over your shoulders as you walked to the back entrance, where Anthony would greet you like he did so many other times.

But this time, the greeting was a deep and hungry kiss, hands cupping your cheeks as if he'd not had a comforting touch in a hundred years.

You let out a noise of surprise, nearly losing your grasp on your shawl as you kiss him back, eyes fluttering shut.

When he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he spoke.

"I need you," he said.

"Anthony..."

"No," he said. "You do not understand what I am saying, Y/n. I need you like I've—oh, I've never needed anyone as bad as what I need you. Not just your body. Not just—not just your lips, love. I need—I need all of you."

You stared up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"The last you saw of me. I said you wouldn't be happy with me. I—I hope that it is merely a lie of mine. The way I would burn the 'ton to the ground just to have you by my side—you have no idea what I would do for you."

You just listened as he spoke, wide eyed and breathing heavily.

"You asked me to stay. Stay 'til tomorrow. Y/n, I... I cannot do that unless you become mine. Completely mine. And I—I do not wish to part from you. Parting from you is like parting from a vice that I didn't know I needed. I need you more than I ever believed possible." Anthony licked his lips, looking down at you. His hands cupped your cheeks once more, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "I do not wish to be parted from you any more than I have been."

"And how will you do that?" you asked, gently grabbing onto his forearms as he looked into your eyes. "You said it yourself. You cannot stay with me."

He shook his head, resting his forehead against yours. "I will make it work. I am a Viscount, and my sister is the Duchess of Hastings. The things that I can do will solve all the problems we may face... if you'll have me, of course."

You swallowed nervously as you watched him. "But the scandal—"

"—to hell with the scandals, Y/n," he said. "I would face a hundred of them if it meant that I could see your face morning, noon, and night. I would face a hundred more just to be able to call you mine."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Not as desperate as the one from before, but still just as powerful.

"Please. I know what I said, and I am sorry for being so foolish. You are the one I want, the one I need. My heart yearns for yours, Y/n."

"What are you asking me, Anthony?"

"I am asking you to marry me, Y/n. Marry me, and I will never leave you alone. Not like I have."

"You wish for me to marry you?"

"More than anything I've ever wished for," he softly said.

"Even though I am not of... of proper standing?"

"You are proper enough," he said, a small smile quirking on his lips.

You let out a soft huff, eyes searching his, before you find yourself nodding in return.

"I will marry you, but only with one condition," you said.

His eyes widened a bit. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

"Do not leave my side. When we are together, do not leave unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not know if I could handle it if you were to leave me to my lonesome," you said. "You have already done so, far too many times."

He smiled down at you, pressing yet another kiss to your lips. "I promise."

"No. Swear it."

He pulled back, tilting his head. "I swear it, Y/n. I will do no such thing for as long as I breathe."

tagging: @captainsophiestark @fall-outgirl219 @bowti3esrc00l

[hoshizoralone]

a post where i separate every woman in smash by how i would categorize them in relation to samus if she had a dating sim and they had to be assigned a character type (that im saving here in case i ever want to go back to think about this) . and other samus & smash girls shipping thoughts

firstly i originally posted this on bluesky so if you’re not following me there.. go do that!! @hoshizoralone.bsky.social

explanations for the tropes are as follows:

childhood friend - palutena (kid icarus and metroid game overlaps of which there are many. like come on man... this is a nobrainer)

energetic cute girls - peach/daisy/pyra (daisy is jock leaning)

jocks - wii fit trainer/alex/mythra

mysterious transfer student - sheik/mii gunner/rosalina/lucina (though samus is not in school. but i'm not sure how else to explain this trope. maybe just "mysterious character")

the love interest that openly flirts with the mc - bayonetta

(varying degrees of) nerds, the smart girls - byleth/robin/zelda/isabelle (like lets say they were put into a scenario with samus. they would be the brains of the operation. robin would have had the adam stuff in dread solved immediately)

i don't care - corrin (i really tried to think of what trope she could be but i don't even imagine samus would like her)

not viable (teenagers). these two become a background couple - min-min/leaf (well, i had thought this, but after making the post on bluesky someone told me leaf’s canon age is 11. i had thought she was nebulously teenaged…. so either age her up here, or forget this tier exists)

not viable (babies) - villagers/inklings/wendy/nana

i do think the idea of creating a sim revolving around samus would be fun, only issue is the pression has truly kicked my ass this year and i really am all out of writing ability. i have two other games already sitting in my drafts half finished…

it could make for a fun rom hack though. Maybe instead of the chozo giving you power ups its the other girls . And at the end you have to Save The Girls not the animals. Someone make that happen.

~~~~

the above isnt arranged by how much i ship it but the below is. imagine gandrayda (of metroid prime 3 fame) right under samus and then a massive powergap and then the rest of the chart:

two professional girlfailures are facing off head to head in this 500 chapter slow burn sam/palu fanfiction - palutena (palutena is a girlfailure at everything but samus only falls into that category for women. it would be an extremely long time for samus to realize palutena likes her . could they make it work when they're both so busy? read my nonexistent fic to find out)

samus has a one sided crush - peach/rosalina/wii fit trainer. (samus will never confess. peach has mario and samus isnt messing w that. samus thinks she's not cool enough for rosalina. wft is already in a relationship consult the lone wii fit trainer lore)

(in my head samus’s one sided crushes are justified like this:

peach - she is literally so pretty it’s blinding. peak femininity is making samus short circuit

rosalina - parentless lady from space who has been left alone/feels lonely resonates hard

wft - she gives constant positive feedback which i think samus is starved to hear)

i used to love sam/bayo but bayo3 sucked so i kinda dont care about it anymore - bayonetta. sad day.

one sided crush on samus - alex/robin/zelda/lucina

samus-neutral - sheik/byleth/isabelle/gunner/pymythra/daisy/corrin. (they probably wouldnt pass up the opportunity to kiss samus if given one but they're not having their thoughts occupied by her)

one sided childhood crush (thinks she's cool) (not reciprocated) - min-min (samus is sort of like a celebrity. it's sort of like having a crush on zac efron when hes 18 and youre 7)

i consider samus in her 30s so every teenager and baby who doesn't have a cute unreciprocated crush is out of the running - leaf/villagers/inklings/nana/wendy

someone had asked… where’s dark samus. for me as one of the five samus x gandrayda shippers, i think if there was a dating sim and dark samus was in it samus would immediately halt the events of the dating sim to go hunt her down as repayment for everything + the whole killing her girlfriend thing. like she cant exist in this world.

the only other samus thing i ship that isn’t mentioned here already is samus x cortana. it could be cute. i do Naut ship her with any guys. lesbian samus for life

aside from samus x gandrayda which will probably always be my ride or die ship, i think the ship with the most interesting stuff to explore is samus/palutena… they aren’t alike characterwise at all, but it’s just that their series are linked in a metatextual sense, so its fun to imagine them together. in a “we’ve been hanging around each other for a while!” kind of way. well, opposites attract..

anyways that was my post. If you read this and have thoughts let me know. Maybe i’ll draw some stuff in my freetime. Cool thanks love ya bye.

[thepowerofswayze]

the best kind of trouble

pairing: fiyero tigelaar (wicked, 2024) / f!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings & info: 18+, straight smut, edging, sub fiyero, praise, handjob, reader described as beautiful, fiyero calls reader a lady, made up professor name lmfao

summary: Fiyero gets himself into an interesting situation.

note: :]

☆

Fiyero’s mouth was always getting him into trouble.

Most of the time, it wasn’t a problem- he couldn’t care less about whatever “I’m not mad, just disappointed” lecture he was given or what school he was sent to next. Life would go on, wouldn’t it? Everything would start over and he’d just do it all again. Occasionally, he landed in such hot water, he truly did feel a twinge of regret- even if he put on a brave, thoughtless face about it.

This was a bit of both.

Here he was, lying on your bed, hands all but glued down at his sides. His jacket was lost somewhere on the floor, shirt unbuttoned, pants pushed down just far enough for you to get your hands on him. Fiyero couldn’t for the life of him straighten out his expression- brows drawn, mouth open, panting as if he’d run a mile. He couldn’t decide whether he should thank Oz for the feeling or curse his own big mouth for ending up in this position, so close yet so, so far. He couldn’t think much of anything at the moment.

If you asked him to remember what he’d said to get here, he couldn’t tell you.

That morning, Professor Fenneman had paired the two of you for your midterm- a diorama or presentation or something artsy (Fiyero had forgotten already). You’d seemed less than thrilled to be his partner- and you had told him as much, hugging your books tight to your chest as you led him through the halls. You went on about how you knew this wasn’t ideal for him, either, because you were going to put him to work, but that you would be cordial if he would put in a little effort for once, or something like that.

Fiyero had to admit, he hadn’t completely been listening. Not for lack of interest, but rather because you were so distracting. The sun was tangling itself in your hair, illuminating your skin every time you passed a window- he found himself just looking at you, as he often did when he got bored in class. It wasn’t that you were doing something more entertaining than the lectures- you were studious, you took notes and paid attention and, occasionally, raised your hand- but you were much more interesting nonetheless. Your endearing mannerisms, the way your hair shifted as you moved, your obvious beauty- it was all well worth looking at. He’d tried to flirt with you before, believe him, but you’d kindly made it clear you were entirely uninterested. He was an annoying and persistent person, but even he at least had the decency to stop making his infatuation your problem.

“My roommate is out for a couple days,” you’d been saying, walking up to your dorm door and taking out your key. “We can work on our project here, so I can store it safely.”

He’d continued being annoying, of course, once you had settled onto the floor and he’d made himself at home on the end of your bed.  You were a lot more relaxed out of the classroom, he realized, meeting his constant jabbering with quick wit and humor. It only added to his interest in you- he was truly never going to get over whatever this was, especially after this.

“Hands.”

Fiyero snapped back to the present, realizing he’d lifted his hands from his sides, reaching toward his now neglected dick. He quickly dropped them back, gasping softly.

Your smile was sickeningly sweet, a stark contrast to the way you were torturing him. “Good job,” you cooed, wrapping your hand around him once more and settling into a quick rhythm. “What happened to that big mouth of yours, hm? You’re listening so well for me.”

He couldn’t help the whine that slipped out of him. It might have been embarrassing, but he’d said and done arguably worse in the last hour since you’d put your hands on him. You played with the pace at which you touched him, watching him oscillate between whined yes’ and pleading whimpers.

“You’re going to kill me,” he managed to gasp, watching your smile grow as you swiped your thumb over the tip of his cock. Oz, he was close- 10 more seconds, maybe, if you let him have that long. Fiyero’s head was growing light, his stomach tightening as-

You answered by stopping completely, then resuming, slowing your pace down considerably. You watched his face fall as he groaned in protest. How many more times were you going to do this to him? “Come on, now,” you murmured, your free hand resting on his leg and tracing circles into his thigh. The sweet touch made all this worse, somehow. “You’ve done so well, Fiyero.” The way you murmured his name went straight to his groin, making him whine again, furrowing his brow. “Just a little longer, yeah?”

Before you’d even finished your sentence, Fiyero was voicing his dissent, gripping the sheets like they were all that was grounding him. “I can’t bear it,” he said simply, watching you through a haze.

You tsked at him, your own eyes cloudy as you pressed a kiss to his stomach. “I don’t believe that,” you murmured, the sensation of your breath fanning against his skin making his eyes flutter closed. “But I’m feeling rather nice today. So, maybe if you ask nicely…”

Fiyero groaned, eyes screwed shut. “P-please.”

Another condescending noise, mimicking the cadence of his plea. “Please what, darling? I can’t read minds, now, can I?”

You slowed your pace impossibly further, an excruciating drag up and down his cock, drawing a rather undignified sound from him. “Please, let me cum.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Wh-” Fiyero’s eyes shot open, brows furrowed in alarm. “I’ve been good! You said so yourself- I’ll- I’ll stop being such a nuisance, I swear it. Please, please-”

He cut himself off with a moan as you picked up the pace for the last time. “Begging is generally not befitting behavior for a prince, but I must say… it looks very pretty on you,” you teased, watching as he got closer and closer to falling apart. A kiss to his chest, a few to his neck, a nip at his ear. He felt like he was going to burst at the seams. “Go on then, Fiyero. You’ve earned it.”

His pleas grew louder, all his effort going to keeping his hands to his sides- he couldn’t ruin this when he was so close. Finally, the tension in his stomach snapped, and Fiyero bucked into your hand, letting out a long, drawn out cry as he came.

Swears spilled from his lips, stars dancing behind his eyelids as you murmured your approval- a soothing stream of “that’s it” and “so good for me”. Fiyero blindly reached out and pulled you down by the back of your neck, panting and whining into your mouth as you continued stroking him until he’d come down from the high.

He was utterly wrecked, lying there on your bed as you let him go and grabbed a tissue. You cleaned off your hand, then, almost painfully gently, wiped him clean as well, tucking him back into his pants. His stomach was still settling, chest heaving as he watched you move.

“Need a minute?” You asked, your tone the same light, teasing thing that had been tormenting him this whole time.

Fiyero shook his head. “Many minutes. Hours.”

You raised one eyebrow. “Hours? I guess I’ll push our studying to tomorrow, hm?” You sat on the edge of the bed, stretching your arms over your head before starting to stand.

Fiyero pushed himself up to sit, reaching out to take your hand. “Wait,” he started, watching you turn to look at him in surprise. “If we have until tomorrow to study, then… surely we should take advantage of the rest of the day, yes?” An easy smile slid onto his face- the charming smooth talker was back. “We wouldn’t want to waste our time, would we?”

You couldn’t help the chuckle you let out, or the flustered expression on your face- it was almost silly, he thought, how easily you two switched places. Wasn’t he the one laying vulnerable on your bed just a moment before, begging you to show a little mercy? The contrast sent electricity down his spine.

“Really, Fiyero,” you were saying, “it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to tire you.”

He was shaking his head before you’d stopped talking. “Tired? You underestimate me, love- I don’t think I could ever be tired of this.” He let his eyes trail over you before meeting your gaze again. “Of you.” Fiyero rose to his knees, shirt still hanging open as he pulled you along so that you lay where he’d been on the bed. You followed his guidance, biting your lip as he hovered over you, one of his hands supporting him by your head, the other playing with the buttons of your blouse. “What gentleman doesn’t ensure he’s taken care of a lady?”

He waited, toying with your blouse, eyes trained on yours. He could see the gears turning in that magnificent brain of yours before you grinned up at him. “Well, then,” you whispered coyly. “Show me what a gentleman does, Fiyero.”

Fiyero didn’t need to be told twice.

[darnell-la]

Hey, i was wondering if y'all could do part of this fic? if it is okay to yall!!🫶🏻 https://www.tumblr.com/darnell-la/762462804871610368/possessive-logan-x-shy-human-readerlike-shes-a?source=share

note: this is a part two of this post since we were asked for a continuation. we love you all. keep suggesting whatever it is you’d like us to write!

———

It’s been a week since the night with Logan, and y/n has been keeping as much distance as she could. She had to lie to Scott and tell him she got cold feet, and of course, he was understanding.

Y/n hated it. A part of her hoped he’d drop her, but instead, he forgave her and has been coming to her room every day to have a movie date.

Y/n saw something about Scott and had fallen closer to him over several days, but she couldn’t stop thinking of Logan. What if Scott found out? What would he say to her? What would he do to Logan?

“Been havin’ a good time?” Logan asked Scott as he entered the kitchen. “Actually, I have,” Scott grinned as he packed a basket full of snacks and drinks to take up to y/n.

“I know you and you have never gotten along, but life has changed. I thought maybe after Jean, you’d change like me, but — it seems like you couldn’t keep your hands off of what’s mine,”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Bub,” Logan smirked. “Yeah, well, when I came back to her in her room, I smelt your so so shitty cologne on her. She’s not obligated to tell me what happened, but I know she still wants me. More than Jean did when you came in the picture,”

Logan leaned back against the kitchen wall as he watched Scott move around in the kitchen, unbothered. He hated it.

“At the end of the day, she’s been in her room, and away from you. We’ve been gettin’ closer too. Might even make the move tonight,”

Logan’s eye twitched slightly at the man’s words. Logan knew anyone would fall for y/n, but it seemed like most of the feeling Scott had for y/n was to have been instead of Logan.

“Your luck ran out, bud,” y/n picked up the full basket he had in packed. “Maybe it’s time for you to understand that I won, and there’ll be no coming back after tonight,”

Logan wanted to attack the man, push him against the wall, and maybe even throw him around for using y/n.

Logan knew the motivation to get y/n was more serious when Scott stepped into the picture, but at least Logan truly wanted her. It seems like Scott wanted her to keep her from Logan, whether he knew what by heart or not.

“Ssh, I know — I’m huge,” Scott grinned down at y/n who struggled to take what Scott was giving. For the first few seconds, y/n thought to herself how huge these men in the mansion could be.

“It feels good, hun? Oh, I know. Can tell the way you squeeze my dick,” Scott let his cockiness take over his mouth. He could only think about the way Logan had her. He wanted to be better. Little did he know, she didn’t like Scott when he was cocky. She liked the sweet Scott.

“So damn wet, I could hydrate for days. Might needa get a taste of this every day, hm? Ain’t that right, baby?” Scott asked y/n, who looked up into his eyes. She wanted him to maybe calm it down, but it seemed like his words and thrust got harder.

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you’re all innocent. I know what you did,” y/n kept her face the same to show no reaction, but in her heart, she knew what he was talking about.

“Yeah, you thought I would’ve known. It’s okay though, babe. He always gets what he wants. Women these days are easy, but guess what? I’m willing to keep you,”

Y/n felt embarrassed but continued to look up at him with those eyes, begging him to go easy on her, but that was the last thing on his mind.

“You can take it. You took Logan, so I know you can do me,” Scott felt anger run through his veins as he thought of the ways Logan could’ve touched her.

Scott pounded y/n for as long as he could before he released her. She enjoyed the slight dominance but could stay awake after. She was beaten and needed to rest.

Scott kissed the young lady's forehead before he left her room. The smirk on his face as he entered his room, made him know he was better than Logan. He had to be. So he thought…

Y/n slowly woke to a tingling feeling in between her thighs. She had thought her panties had maybe gotten twisted, so she reached down to fix them. That’s when she felt him, Logan lapping his tongue away around her folds.

“L-Logan?” She asked but knew it was him. Logan ignored her questioning and continued to dive deeper between her legs. “L-Logan, wait,” y/n said, remembering that Scott had come in her.

What if Logan gets angry if she lets him continue. Why does she even want him to continue? She just had her actual date with her. Logan tied her down. Why didn’t she think to kick him off because she didn’t want this?

“Logan, just get off real quick-“ Y/n cut herself off with a moan as the man tugged his tongue in her entrance, exploring her walls. “Please, Logan, just- just give me a second,” y/n begged.

If this was Scott, he wouldn’t have listened. He’d want control over y/n to show who’s better, but Logan? Logan actually cares for y/n. He wants y/n because he’s in love. That’s why he stopped.

“C’mon, baby, you were so close. I could tell,” Logan spoke as he hovered over Y/n’s face as juice dropped from his chin. “Logan, I — Me and Scott, we-“ y/n went to say before he smashed his lips onto hers for just a few seconds.

“That’s why I’m getting him out of you. Don’t need that dickhead lingering around in what’s mine, mhkay?” Logan asked. Y/n stayed silent, surprised that he’d do such a thing.

“He wouldn’t do this for you. He’s not a man. He’s a little boy. I’ve lived more lives than he could ever live, Bub. I know what you need. I know what I need, so don’t stop me again,”

Logan moved back down towards y/n’s heat and went at it, causing her to roll her eyes in an instant. Logan groaned as her hips rolled against his face, telling him she wanted more.

“Don’t worry, Bub — I’ve got you,”

[pmbueckers]

— for evermore

chapter one ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift

pairing – paige bueckers x fem oc!dorothea greene

summary – they’ve been at it since highschool, this back and forth, but what happens if and when paige and thea finally realize this hometown situationship might be worth something more?

word count – 3.7k

warnings – idgaf abt punctuation, language

links – masterlist , series masterlist

authors note – find all the information abt this fic with the link above! tried my very best to line it up with the ttds lyrics but giving it my own twist/meaning. it makes sense to me but thats coming from a chronic swiftie so idk if its gonna be confusing for others or not.. pls lmk but be nice lol

dorothea greene pov, december 2023

if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while i was gone i would have asked you 

its been three years since we graduated and no matter how much i told myself the throwing of our caps in the air was it, the symbolic end, i knew myself better than that. i knew her better. i knew us better. because you never truly escape paige bueckers. shes like vines, and once youre in, youre in. bringing us to now. im going home tonight, to celebrate the holidays with my family and hometown friends, but the odds that i dont see her are slim to none. and shes all i can think about as im trying to pack. everything im throwing in my bag, a reminder of her. the shoes she got me for my birthday years ago, my favorite t shirt to sleep in that may or may not be hers. even what im wearing to the goddamn airport, a sweatsuit i bought at the mall of america with her, and a necklace she gave to me before we graduated that i cant muster the strength to give up. i know i dont mean anything to her anymore, honestly i dont know if i even meant that much to her back then, but i cant help but be conflicted myself, why is it the whole year im fine, “cured” of paige bueckers, but the second it hits december and i know snow is falling back home, i need to be back in hopkins wrapped up in her arms? she probably has someone else by now. no, she definitely has someone else by now. ugh this shouldnt be so hard. okay. just go home, dont get drawn back in. easy right?

im loading all my things into my car, this car, damn we did it in her car too didnt we? see, what did i say? constant. reminders.

its the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass but i felt it when i passed you 

fuck, “snap out of it” i murmur to myself over and over while loading my bags. its not too many bags so im just piling them into my passenger seat as im paying to keep my car parked at the airport while im gone. i head back up to my apartment to lock it up then im pulling out of my places parking ramp and am on the freeway to the airport, a peaceful car ride, that is till i get a notification that makes my heart jump and car nearly swerve off the road. and i know its abt to begin, im abt to fall back in, but i cant help it.

paige bueckers

Hey

Whats your break schedule

read 6:21 pm

dorothea greene

hi.

ive got the next four weeks of classes off but im only going to be home for abt two.

deciding to only stay home for about two weeks to minimize the amount of damage i can do involving her, but i keep that part out.

Cool

When’s your flight?

in two hours actually

im on the road rn

Don’t crash pls

I prefer you alive

i roll my eyes and let out a little snicker, thankful she cant hear, but typical paige having to sneak at least something in. im glancing up and down from my phone to the road, dont text and drive is repeating in my head in my moms voice, but its paige. the exact reason why im afraid to go home.

funny

Its the truth

So your landing in 6 hrs then?

At 12?

nice math

Alr alr chill 😂

How you getting home from the airport its gonna be late

Prolly like 1 am

yeah ik

thats what ubers are for paige

Nah uh no way

What if its a creep

I’ll come get you

no

i cant ask u to do that

u wont get home till like two

(a lie, im overestimating, but i really wasnt intenting on seeing paige this early on my tip back home.)

U aint askin im offering

Plus I want to

hm yeah right why is that paige

Aint it obvious comon

I miss you Thea.

read 6:43

theres an ache in you put there by the ache in me but if its all the same to you its the same to me 

and just like that, those three words, eight letters. that i so wish were three different ones, eight different letters, that im sure shes said to someone else, someone new in connecticut, but i cant bother to care about right now because at least i got something, something to show that maybe she still cares a little bit. a little bit about me. and i dont know if this is a mistake, even though i think i do. i know i do. even though i just told myself a couple of hours ago i wasnt going to do this. but hell, going from trying to not see her at all to her being the first person i see is almost comical. 

okay.

im going to be in terminal one

gate G20.

Damn was kinda hopin for a diff kinda rsp

Guess that’ll do…

you’re so pushy omg

i miss you too p.

That’s more like it 😊

i hate you sm

Nah

You dont.

read 6:49

paige is right, which she knows, and i hate that. that i dont hate her, i never could, and i dont think i ever will. that is what hurts the most. no matter how much i have to remind myself of the routine and how much this will never go anywhere, how her words are empty, only sounding full and meaningful for the week or two we are in the same city, i dont know how to stop. bc its her. its paige. my paige.

the rest of my travel night goes by in a blur, i paid for my car to be parked in the garage, i checked my bags, went through security, waited at the gate, and am now on the plane where i would normally get a nice four hour nap in so the ride would go by quicker, i dont, because i dont know if im prepared to land, to see whos waiting for me once this plane lands in minnesota. but just like that it does, it lands.

thankfully im seated near the back of the aircraft so i have a little bit more time wasting im able to do, i find myself walking to baggage claim extremely slow its almost comical, praying my bag isnt one of the first ones out, but of course it is. curse you universe. im plotting on how im gonna look lost outside, how i purposefully cant find her car like i have no idea what it looks like, like i dont have her licscene plate number memorized. like we havent done unspeakable shit in that car, unable to wait a ten minute drive home from a random bar. that is until i look up from my phone, suspicious because she hasnt texted me about her whereabouts outside yet, and i spot a little ways down the strip of the airport, a strikingly bright blonde head of hair that i would recognize anywhere. my pace, unbeknownst to me, picks up, and as i get closer i can make out that shes holding up a sign. not huge and flashy, but modest, smaller, she begins to walk towards me as well with what i can make out so far as the biggest grin on her face i have ever seen. that im sure my own face is reflecting. the closer she gets the more clear her sign becomes, that reads, ‘welcome home thea’ as she flips it to back that says ‘ive missed you most’. at this point ive completely ditched my bags and have just jumped in her arms, a giggling mess. god im a child. my arms are wrapped around her neck, hers around my waist, lifting me up off the floor slightly, breathing into my neck, a couple of hours ago i said i wasnt going to get drawn back in, now im in the middle of the airport looking like a lovesick idiot. 

so we could call it even you could call me babe for the weekend 'tis the damn season 

“hi baby” she mumbled against my skin and heart just about burst. i missed her so much. i pull back to look at her face, i just want to look at her face, i could forever. with my hands cupping her face. her rosy cheeks from being outside in the minnesota weather all cold, trying to warm her up. and as shes setting me down shes wiping hair out of my face, off of my forehead, looking deep into my eyes with her ocean blue ones, “god i missed you.” she whispered, quiet enough to be heard by just us, like a secret she didnt want anyone around us to hear in fear of it breaking. “so ive heard” i say back to her, moving my face closer to hers, with a smug but playful grin on my lips. and my arms are right back around her neck as im saying into her ear “i missed you too p.” scattering small kisses across the side of her head. on her ear, hairline, neck, temple. i know better. but at this point, theres no going back. and its not on her lips, so what damage is it really doing? i back away and intertwine my hand with hers while looking into her eyes, “lets go home, k?” i say while nodding my head in encouragement, “okay” she mumbles, while squeezing my hand, and grabbing my bags for me off of the floor. shes perfect, for these next two weeks shes going to be perfect. 

write this down, im stayin at my parents house and the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you in my hometown 

im in her passenger seat, like ive been in drastically different situations many times before, as we’ve finally made it out of the god awful airport pickup zone. ive been day dreaming out this window for who knows how long about her of course. because when im with her as happy as it makes me, it only confuses me more. and it drives me insane. thats when i feel her right hand creep up on my thigh from the drivers side in soothing circles, “thea? hey did you hear what i said?” my eyes jerk down to her hand and then towards her eyes. “sorry p, whats up?” because i genuinely did miss her question, but theres some look etched on her face one i havent seen before, and it makes me take a big gulp of water thats been sitting in her car for possibly ages, as im all of a sudden afraid of what shes gonna say. her hand continues to rub soothing circles on my thigh while her eyes i swear are staring into the deepest parts of my soul, i should be worried considering shes currently driving on the highway but i cant seem to care, the way she looks at me makes me feel like im the only person in the world. “hey are you okay?” she says sincerely, “what?” i say almost too loudly, “sorry, yeah no im good p”, safe to say that wasnt what i was expecting her to ask. i dont know what i was, but it wasnt that. not something that made her seem like she cares deeper than the surface level. actually able to tell when somethings going on with me. whatever, its probably nothing. “alright thea,” as her goddamn hand is almost territorially sitting on my thigh now, like shes trying to protect me from the heat coming out of the ac in the car, “you never told me where im takin you.” she states, looking at me with her cute but smuggish at the same time grin. “yeah right, sorry, uh im staying with my parents. i’ll send you the address.” i ramble, trying to get this car ride to go by quicker. i swear shes driving slower on purpose. just to see me squirm. i see out of the corner of my eye as im going to send her the address her hand coming up to my phone, shes setting my hands down in my lap, and then turning my chin to face her, “thea. enough with the sorries. and i know were your parents live baby you dont need to send me the address.” she lets out a chuckle, but not one making fun, a light hearted one, as her hand moves to find mine and intertwines our fingers in my lap. but i know paige better than anyone, before we were whatever this is, we were friends, bestfriends. so of course she lets no teasing opportunity pass her by. “damn,” she says, looking down at my phone, that has our messages open, “my full legal name as the contact name is lethal” she says, looking up at me with a smirk, i shove her shoulder trying not to give her the satisfaction of a laugh and am then playing with the rings on her fingers. “alright p i would like a better suggestion. your name as your name in my phone makes complete sense to me. now i dont even wanna know what you got me as in yours,” i say with a chuckle, but also leaving it on a hint, i do wanna know. its probably nothing special, but paige is right, anything other than my full name would be special. “oh really?” shes looking at me with that smirk, god it kills me. shes pulled out her phone and opened it up to my contact, 'thea 💚'. it really seems like nothing special to the blind eye, but it is to me. not even my full first name, my nickname, with a heart that just about makes my own heart burst. and not just any heart, one of my favorite color, that ironically is the same as my last name. no words are exchanged just two pairs of eyes looking deeply into one another, faces with the biggest grins on them, while the rest of the car ride was silent. the center console of her car jabbing into the left side of my rib cage so my head was able to lean on her shoulder with her hand in my lap the whole way home. our hearts beating almost too romantically in sync the whole way to my parents house.

paige, despite what i knew she wanted to do, dropped me off at home. she pulled into my parents driveway with her headlights off, sure to not wake them, and though the door wasnt even twenty feet away, “im still walking you to it” she insisted, while grabbing my bags from the backseat. i unlocked the door, placed my bags inside and turned to the tall blonde, looking up into her icy blue eyes. “thank you for getting me p. and bringing me home,” i whispered the last part as i reach up to place my arms around her neck, as her arms find their familar home around my waist. i couldnt tell you how long we stood there for, swaying lightly, not wanting to let one another go, with my front door wide open letting all the cold minnesota air in but i finally pulled away looking into her eyes, mumbling “but i cant let you in. i want to, but i cant, p.” paige sighs, looking down at our feet, then back at me, “i know baby, its okay.” she spoke while wiping baby hairs away from my face and once again scooping me up in a hug. her breath warm agaisnt the left crevice where my neck and shoulder meet. i want to let her in so bad, but i cant because i know myself. i know her. i know us. and she knows it too. one thing will lead to another. and i need to try to hold out for as long as possible, as much as its killing me. as paige pulls away she leaves a kiss on my cheek and mumbles, “i’ll see you soon. get some sleep okay?” looking at me with questioning eyes and a raised eyebrow. god shes so cute. “okay.” i breathe out, reaching down to grab both of her hands. till she starts to back away, i find myself trying to hold onto the tips of her fingers for as long as possible as shes whispering goodbye and just like that her car is backing out of the driveway, and im standing under the porch light. alone. i know this scene all too well. we arent in highschool anymore, i have to remind myself, so i turn around and head inside before i overthink, again.

i parkеd my car right between the methodist and thе school that used to be ours

with playlists blasting in my ears, im unpacking my bags in my childhood room, tidying it up because my mom has turned it into her own personal closet while ive been gone, finding little knickknacks that meant everything to me as a kid. i stumble upon a hopkins basketball sweatshirt on my closet floor, i wonder who that belongs to? a cross on my wall from our communities church event. from the same church i went to every sunday that i would always find myself sitting next to paige at. and cleaning my bathroom i so luckily have attached to my bedroom, putting away my toiletries, opening a drawer that still has some of her things in it from when she would stay over almost every night, as im about to get in the shower before i finally try and get some sleep. thats when my music pauses to signify a ding of a notification. its paige. of course.

paige bueckers

U up?

read 2:13 am

thea 💚

nope

Alr 1 ur mean 2 I thought I told u to sleep

one you love me

two shouldnt u not be textin me then?

Damn u right on both tbh

But nah yk I cant leave u alone

read 2:17am

overthinking is my speciality, but am i doing that right now? because in all of our years of even just being friends we expressed our gratitude for one another, but since we’ve been whatever the fuck this is, flirt, hookup, ghost, paige has never even said the words “i like you” to me. we both know we care so deeply for one another, possibly more, but its complicated, our lives never worked out together that way, never overlapped, so we accepted the mutual heartbreak but kept pushing forward with this toxic cycle anyways because neither of us could bare not having the other in our life anymore. did she just admit that she loves me? nah. no fucking way. we say shit in playful tones like that all time. oh you love me this you love me that. but shes never admitted it back, not like that. what is going on. god its late, get out of your head thea. play it cool.

yeah ur lowkey annoying

highkey actually

Alr get out

U love me back dw ik

mm debatable 

Ouch

Wyd tmr

i dont know actually

my parents arent awake to make any plans with lol

Oh so I get u first

ok who said that??

You basically 😊

paige madison omg

Hey that reminds me

You change that contact name yet??

that rlly buggin you huh

Maybe

then i might just keep it

Thea istg

alr alr chill i will change it 😂

dorothea greene changed paige bueckers contact to 'paige 💜'

And I will pick u up at noon?

where tf did i agree to that?

Would you rather meet somewhere?

i dont see where i agreed to do anything with you

I want to see you

paige.

you just saw me not even an hour ago

I miss you

you cant possibly

How do you know that

You dont know I feel

I miss you

I miss you

okay will you shut up if i say yes

Um only if nice Thea shows up

okay sorry p 😂😂

Never be sorry

Sooooo I will pick you up tomorrow at noon?

you will pick me up tomorrow at noon.

Goodnight baby sleep well

Actually sleep please

read 2:35

that damn petname, nickname, wtv it is it fucking kills me and she probably has no idea. no she definitely knows and thats why she uses it. thank god she cant see my face right now because its full blown red, completely embarrassed post screaming my lungs out into my pillow.

i will

goodnight p

see u tmr.

i just snickered to myself after sending paige those last texts. almost shameful of myself. i dont know what im doing. or maybe i do? i think its safe to say my winter break is gonna go different than i planned, but the same way as it always was. whenever i dare to mix myself with paige bueckers and my hometown.

the next chapter will be finishing out the lyrics of ttds (in blue) which will be linked in the masterlist once finished! - im gonna try and make this into a full blown series incorporating other songs from the album 'evermore' going back in time as well to give some background information on their relationship, etc. we'll see how it goes...

reminder: my box is open for all requests ⋆˙⟡

[squishyneet]

reblogging to tell you a couple quotes from JJBA Part 6 Stone Ocean that this reminded me of if anyone's interested. sorry it's long:

"From here on out in the story, I would like you the viewer to be the judge in deciding who is the one who has committed a sin. Was it the mother who had sinned for having switched the babies? The parents? Enrico? Or was it Weather, who didn't know a thing?"

"In the end, who was the one truly being punished in all of this? Was it Weather? Perla? Perhaps, all anyone did up until this point was love someone with all their heart. The only truth that can be found is that love brought about the worst case scenario."

"Why in God's name? Why? Why did it have to end like this? Why did I even want to become a priest in the first place!? Why does fate bring two people together!? If they hadn't met, none of this would have ever happened!!"

"Please, don't let this be the end! Don't take her life away! None of this was Perla's fault! All she did was fall in love! I'll do anything that you ask of me! Just please, bring her back!! If anyone should be damned for this, then it's me!-"

"Do you believe in gravity between individuals . . . ?"

lookism inherently being a tragedy is so dear to me.

the existence of good people who will do good unconditionally (sinu, seongji, daniel's mom, vin's mom) wasn't enough to offset the evil that had corroded their surroundings, their kindness didn't save anyone they wished to protect not because it wasn't enough but because they were doomed from the beginning to fail, and thus fuel their beloveds' rise to infallibility.

that post which goes "the love was there. it didn’t change anything. it didn’t save anyone. there were just too many forces against it" , but lookism.

sinu choosing to help johan only for johan to lose everything eventually. jake choosing to spare olly the torment of living like a thug only for olly to perish more painfully. eli choosing to leave hostel only to end up becoming like the very man he despised, upon his return. seongji rejecting james' proposal to become a part of charles' grand design because he never wanted his kids and those of others to be brought to harm only for vin to end up becoming a murderer. gun choosing loyalty over his closest friendship only to embark on the path of complete, irreversible annihilation and being the only one who survives as everything he holds dear turns to stone...

the tragedy occurs because the person making the choice has been doomed from the very start. it matters not how much they loved because their love was never meant to endure.

every choice they made is irrevocably wrong but ultimately made out of love. these are unfixable mistakes but they happened only because someone cared too much.

[bdafic]

Solas and Elgar'nan's psychic slapfight

(including an attempt to translate the Elvish)

From the 'Blood of Arlathan' quest

Pt. 1

“Elgar’nan! Brother! You are a false god. Are you in need of [my] guidance?”

Pt. 2

Either, "You'll have no peace! Swear [to me], Fen'Harel!" or, "You remember wrong. [She] swore [to me], Fen'Harel!"

Pt. 3

Pt. 4

Pt. 5

Full breakdown under the cut.

Please remember that the Devs have said DA Elvish it’s more cipher than conlang — a truly vibe-based language — so meaning varies pretty widely with context, subject, and intention. I’m no expert (that title goes to [ Fenxshiral ]), I'm just taking a crack at it.

Solas' initial call for attention: "Elgar'nan! Lethallin! Ma banal'evanuris. Ma salin ar ghilana?"

Lethallin = kin, friend, or family. I've also seen it used as “brother in arms”.

Ma = you

Banal = nothing, nothingness, destruction, false, void, etc. Evanuris = ‘honoured ones', leaders, gods. From ‘evanura’, to

honour. The ‘is’ suffix may make this closer to “forever honoured”. It's not capitalised here, which implies it's being used as a descriptor instead of a title. Pairing it with banal changes it to, “Without honour”, “honourless”, “you destroyed your honour” or with a bit of a poetic license, “false god/leader”.

ar = I

ghil’a = to guide, which I believe is using -na as possessive pronoun, which would make it “your guide”, “guidance” or "help". Alternatively, ghilanas can mean ‘luck’ and ‘fate’ so a case could be made for ‘lucky’ or 'fortunate'.

Salin stumped me. It's in a number of other words and phrases but none of them give any insight into what it means on its own. For instance, if your Rook is Elven, Isabela will mix up ‘emma salin’ (which apparently means “I want you within me”) and ‘enasalin’, which means victory or congratulations.

Reverse engineering ‘emma salin’ gives us emma = mine/my, and the suffix -in = within. Lasa or lana are typically used for 'want', with isala used for sexual want, so if it's some form of isala they’re dropping the ‘i’ for whatever reason. “My lust within” almost makes sense, and if you treat ‘emma’ as a compound of ‘em’ and ‘ma’ you'd get you+me+lust+inside, which is pretty close to what Rook says it is.

Reverse engineering enasalin gets some combination of:

ena = to emerge/appear

sa = one

lin = blood/person (masculine person)

sal = again

sal' = soul

-in = dwelling, inside, within.

Sal'in is also used to mean 'head' (lit. dwelling of my soul).

A case could be made for ‘emerge from blood’ as 'victory', but I’m starting to think salin may be used to indicate a feeling or state of mind. The feeling of emerging from the blood. The feeling of needing another person within you.

If we go with it we’d get is something like, “Elgar’nan! Brother! You are no god. Do you need guidance?” which is a delightfully bitchy way to start the conversation.

After they start fighting about Mythal and end with this exchange: "But you were always stubborn, Fen'Harel. Insubordinate. Unmanageable, even by Mythal's reckoning." "You have lost the right to speak her name." Elgar'nan resumes the fight with, "Ma vallas ban! Shev gar, Fen'Harel!" It rankles Solas enough to immediately counter. "The only reason Mythal joined you was that she knew the monster you would become if left unchecked."

Given that the previous lines were about Mythal, and Solas responds with a defense of Mythal, I'm pretty comfortable saying whatever Elgar'nan is saying here is about Mythal.

Ma = you

vallas = writing; or val = memory, las = hope/anticipation/ambition. A hopeful or positive memory — nostalgia? Peace?

ban I can’t find anywhere on its own, but it appears in compound words that all mean some variation of dark, nothing, black, ruin, rot, destroy etc

gar = root form of gara (come/arrive/happen/get/occur), which can also describe the previous word in terms of timing or as an event.

Shev I also can't find anything on, not even as a compound, which makes me wonder if it isn’t a misprint of shiv or shiva (duty/oath/swear)

If we go with the 'duty/oath' assumption, we might get something like, “You have no peace. Swear [your oath] to me, Fen’Harel”. But like I said, I'm pretty comfortable interpreting the line as being about Mythal, so I think this is closer to, “You're blinded by nostalgia" in meaning, and then, "She swore to me”/“She made an oath”

[homesick4la]

complicated — hamzahthefantastic

5. apocalypse

contains: sfw content! fluff!

summary: hamzah takes you on date woohoo

a/n: the ending of this part just felt like the song apocalypse by cigarettes after sex so that is where the title is from!

last part: stay here forever

the second that hamzah had left your apartment that morning, you decided that it was time to officially end things with matthew. you couldn't keep leading him on- not when you knew just how infatuated you were with hamzah.

as much as you wanted to simply send him a text or a have quick phone call, you decided that telling him in person would be best. in your teenage years, you would’ve happily ghosted him. now that you were older, you realized that meeting face to face was the most respectful way to end your relationship with him.

you texted him asking him to meet you at a nearby coffee shop. and now, the two of you were sat across from each other in the nearly empty cafe. the room was eerily quiet as he studied your face, a look of confusion over his.

“so..” he spoke, “are we planning our seattle trip? i was thinking we could leave early in the morning on friday.”

“actually, that’s what i needed to talk to you about.” you explain before taking a sip of your latte.

his brows furrow slightly, “what do you mean?”

you take a deep breath. “i can’t go on that trip with you matthew and i- i don’t think we can keep seeing each other.”

his lips part in disbelief, an upset expression creeping onto his face.

“i’m so sorry matthew.” you apologize.

“where is this coming from?” he questions, his voice harsh. “what happened?”

“it’s not you- at all.” you hated how cliche you sounded. “you’re amazing like truly- you’re one of the most respectful guys i’ve ever met and you’ve been so sweet, i just-“

“you what?” he cuts you off, “you don’t want this?” he says, motioning his hands between the both of you as he refers to your relationship.

“listen, i thought i was ready to move on from my last relationship but i’m just not ready. that’s all. i need to work through some things before i’m ready to get into a new relationship.”

maybe you were lying to him just a little bit. but he didn’t need to know that the real reason you couldn’t move on from your last relationship was because you just can’t seem to stay away from your ex.

“you’re seriously still hung up on your ex?” he chuckles as he shakes his head angrily.

you weren’t sure how to respond. you sat there speechless as he spoke again.

“wow. that’s great. so this entire time that i’ve been doing everything to make you happy, doing everything to build this relationship with you— and you’ve just been thinking about your ex?”

you’ve been doing worse than just thinking about him, you thought.

“no, no- listen, i wasn’t trying to lead you on or anything. i really did like you- but my head isn’t in the right place yet and it isn’t fair to you for me to keep pretending that it is.” you explain, your chest tightening. you hated this.

"you could've told me sooner." he sighs, "instead of letting me believe we were actually forming something here."

you look down, "i'm sorry, i just didn't realize it until-"

"until what?" he cuts you off, "until you hooked up with him?"

fuck. you let out a harsh breath, looking away from him.

"nice, y/n. well, i hope it was worth it. i was ready to fully jump into a relationship and you were off fucking your ex." he whispered angrily.

"c'mon, you're being overdramatic- we only dated for a couple weeks." you roll your eyes at him. you knew he'd be a little upset but you could've never predicted this kind of reaction.

"no- fuck you y/n. i thought you were different." he says while standing from his seat, grabbing his cup of coffee and stomping towards the exit.

you prop your elbows on the table in front of you, bringing your head to your hands as you take a moment to process what just happened. the conversation didn't go exactly as planned, but at least it was over.

and now you could focus all your attention on rebuilding what you had with hamzah.

…

the next day was spent feeling embarrassingly excited over your date with hamzah. before he had left your apartment the other day, you two decided to unblock each other’s numbers. the “no contact” era was officially over. and god, you were happy about it.

he texted you telling you to “dress up pretty.” and that he was picking you up at seven.

so now, at five o’clock, you were already doing your makeup. you couldn’t help it. you were so excited.

you were sitting on your bathroom counter, applying each product while singing along to cheesy love songs.

after, you carefully curled your hair and slipped into a long, silky black dress. it was simple but it fit you perfectly- made you feel sexy.

as you walk outside your apartment building, you feel the crisp night air hit you, bringing goosebumps to your uncovered arms. he looks over at you from his spot in the driver’s seat and smiles before climbing out of the car. he walks over to the passenger side, holding open the door for you.

you sit down on the seat and hmazah shuts the car door before leaning his elbows onto the open window, quickly pressing his lips to yours.

he smiles as he pulls away, “hey pretty girl.”

his eyes scan you up and down, his smile never leaving his face. the way he looked at you made you feel like the most attractive woman alive.

“hi.” you respond, unable to contain the excited grin that crept onto your face.

he walks back around, climbing back into the driver’s seat and starting the car. he drives you to the small italian restaurant you two had frequented often within the duration of your relationship.

it was the restaurant you two went to for every anniversary, any sort of celebration, or birthday. there was a piano player that played quietly in the corner. the room was illuminated with candlelight among the tables within the room.

everything about the place was beautifully warm. it’s why it was your guy’s go-to fancy dinner place.

the owner, antonio, spotted the two of you from across the room. quickly walking over to your table.

“my favorite couple!” he exclaims, arms reaching out to gesture towards you two. “finally back together!”

you turn your head away, laughing at antonio’s familiar boldness.

“you miss us that bad?” hamzah asks, grinning.

“miss you? no- i missed the drama. every time you two came in it was like watching a movie. much more entertaining than the dirty dishes.” he laughs.

“mhm, thank you for the warm welcome.” you say, stifling a laugh.

“as always.” he responds quickly, “i’m guessing that you two want your usual?”

“yes, please.” you answer him, smiling at him as you hand over the menu that had been lying on the table in front of you.

he nods before walking back towards the kitchen.

hamzah looks back towards you as antonio walks off, “he totally missed us.”

“he missed being nosy.” you correct him, giggling.

hamzah laughs with you. as the laughter dies down, his eyes lock with yours- a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you question, a hint of sass in your tone.

“just wondering how you get even more beautiful each time i see you.” he replies, reaching his hand across the table to interlock his fingers with yours. his thumb rubbing gently across your skin.

“oh, stop.” you look away, trying to hide your blushed cheeks and uncontrollable smile from him.

“you’re still the worst at taking compliments.”

“mm, maybe i’m just not as conceited as you are.” you tease.

“conceited? nah. it’s just confidence, baby. you think i’d be able to pull someone like you without it?”

you shake your head at him. you remember just how charming he was the first time you two met. you were taken aback at first- his confident demeanor being a stark contrast from the awkwardly funny character he portrayed online. his flirty personality had caught you by surprise and reeled you in.

"you could pull anyone you want, hamzah. i mean- look at you! i know you've seen all those edits of yourself." you ramble, trying to emphasize just how attractive he was.

he laughs, "people just edit to edit- it's a creative outlet. it's like an art form."

"no, no- they edit you because you're gorgeous."

you watch his mouth upturn into a sweet smile. "thank you," he pauses, "see how easy it is to accept a compliment?"

you laugh in response. soon, antonio brings out your usual order. you two continue talking about anything and everything while sharing the pasta and sipping on your glasses of wine.

he was absolutely in his element. making witty jokes while slipping in the occasional compliment. retelling stories you’d heard a thousand times and making it just as interesting as it was the first time. you were so effortlessly drawn to him.

and he truly looked beautiful. the candlelight illuminated his face in way that made him look almost angelic. you could tell he took extra time getting ready- each curl laying perfectly on his head.

he was wearing a black button up, sleeves rolled up his forearms. the sight of the undone top button bringing indecent thoughts to your mind. you imagined unbuttoning all those buttons, sliding his shirt off, running your hands along his biceps…

“you ready to get out of here?” he asks, snapping you out of your fantasies.

“yeah.” you smile, collecting your purse from off the ground.

as you walk out of the building, you turn to him, “did you want to come back to my apartment?” you ask, hoping your fantasies would become a reality.

“nope.” he grins mischievously. you feel disappointment bubbling inside you until he continues. “not yet—i’ve got plans for us. what does nicki minaj say in that one song? the night is still young?”

you chuckle, "that's a great song! we're listening to that in the car." you demand as you two approach the car.

he doesn't tell you where you two are headed during the drive, explaining that if he told you, it would "ruin the surprise." you guys ride with the windows down. you stick an arm out the window- the crisp air hitting your skin in a way that was refreshing.

you two blast music during the drive. you forced him to listen to your corny pop songs and he unashamedly sang along with you. his hand finds it way to your thigh. his fingers dance along the silky material of your dress. his touch brings butterflies to your stomach.

you were on the outskirts of the city now, driving through tree-filled hills. where was he taking you?

finally, the car approaches a parking lot in front of a dome shaped building. the architecture was breathtaking. but you still wondered why he had taken you here.

"what is this place?" you ask, stepping out of the car.

"an astronomical observatory. you always talked about how sad it made you that we couldn't really see stars in the city, so i wanted to bring you to the stars." he answers, walking toward you. "and i know how into constellations you are, so i just thought-"

"hamzah." you cut off his rambling. you step closer to him, reaching your arm out to place a hand on his cheek. his eyes are locked on you, scanning your face. he looked as if he was trying to read your expression- have better insight into your mind.

you inch your face closer to his. your noses touching as he brings his hands to your waist.

you close the gap between you two, colliding your lips with his. the kiss was slow, passionate. you pull away, keeping your hands on his face as you say, "you're so sweet. thank you for taking me here."

you loved how thoughtful he was. he noticed each intricate detail of you, and remembered each one. it felt so good to be seen in that way.

he interlocks his fingers with yours as you walk into the building.

you enter the main hall. the building was even more beautiful on the inside. the navy blue walls were lined with glowing dots in the formation of constellations and images of various planets. there were numerous signs with information on astronomy and interactive stations.

"this place is cool." he exclaims, "you like it?" he looks down at you, grinning.

"i love it." you smile at him, giving his hand a quick squeeze before pulling him into a room full of projectors.

the dark room had a projection of a star's life cycle, showing the star's evolution from a nebulae into a massive star that eventually ends in a supernova explosion.

hamzah's eyes watch the projection curiously. "the explosion at the end is quite dramatic." he comments.

"stars are very dramatic. they burn so bright- they essentially destroy themselves in the end."

he turns his head toward you. "very poetic."

"it's just science," you laugh, "they run out of hydrogen fuel."

he smiles at you, "you make science sound like poetry."

you give him a soft, shy smile before dragging him to the other side of the room where constellations were projected along the large wall and the ceiling above you.

"alright, smarty pants- what's this one?" he points to the constellation directly in front of him.

your heart warms at the sound of the familiar nickname. "that one is orion. it's supposed to look like a giant hunter holding up a sword." you explain, using your pointer finger to trace the outline. "oh! and that one over there- is scorpius. the scorpion that was supposedly sent to sting hunter orion after he said that he could defeat any beast. "

"woah, i didn't know constellations had crazy lore like that."

"yeah, and that's just one version of like hundreds of different stories across different cultures- it's really cool."

he looks at you sweetly, "that is really cool." he says. and you can tell that he means it.

you stay in there a while, explaining the lore behind each constellation hamzah pointed to. eventually, you two make your way up towards the outdoor observation area.

this was a large outdoor balcony filled with multiple large telescopes leaned against the metal railing along the edge.

you make your way towards the first telescope you see, quickly bringing your eye to the lens.

"it's so pretty! look!" you move to the side, letting hamzah take a peek.

after a while of taking turns looking at the stars up close, you two find a bench, sitting down while still looking up at the night sky.

"tell me some more star facts." he requests as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer toward him. his warmth comforting in the cold night air.

you think for a second. "in ancient times, people thought their entire fate was predestined by the stars."

"really?" he asks, and you nod in response. "what do you think?"

"i think that the idea that our lives are sort of 'written in the stars' is kinda comforting. but sometimes, i think it's silly to put so much faith into bundles of burning gas." you laugh.

"i think those bundles of burning gas are doing something right." he responds.

"yeah? how so?"

"because they brought me here. with you." he glances over to you.

you meet his glance, "are you saying we were written in the stars?"

"yeah." his lips turn into a soft smile.

"you're such a romantic." you laugh, playfully hitting his chest with your hand.

"hey! i can't help it! you bring it out of me." he chuckles.

you sit in silence together for a moment. you rest your head to his shoulder as you continue staring up at the stars in front of you.

the observatory was far enough from the light pollution of the city that you could actually see stars. many of them.

you notice hamzah's head turning side to side- as if he was scanning the area.

looking around with him, you realize you two were alone out here.

he stands from his spot on the bench, stepping in front of you and reaching a hand out.

"are we leaving?" you question.

"no, no- just c'mere." he says, reaching his hand closer to you.

you take his hand and he leads you to the middle of the rooftop.

he stops. he takes both your hands in his and places them on top of his shoulders. after, his own hands find their way to your waist.

"dance with me."

"hamzah, we don't have any music." you giggle.

"just follow my lead." he chuckles, moving his feet and swaying your bodies together.

you move together in the middle of the observation area. the only source of light coming from the moon and stars above you.

you snake your arms around his neck as you continue swaying with him. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to him tightly. you rest your head to his chest- the sound of his heartbeat bringing you peace.

you feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you dance.

this moment must've been written in the stars, you think. you were always meant to be here- to be with him.

a/n: we r so back. if my star lore is wrong im sorry.... blame google....also i think the next part is going to be smut.. unless yall dont want that then i will think of something else lol so let me knowww also i did not proofread bc im tired

k bye muah

[theagstd]

One Night Stand ; 41

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter forty one ; wc | 9.5k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Your mother is an angel; she's not just a mother. She's everything to you, and you're more than just her world—you're her entire universe. If there's a word or phrase better than that to express how much you mean to her,

she would use it. She's raised you in her own special way, where love, kindness, and security thrived in her care. She has a unique way of being strict, yet her warmth and kindness always shine through.

She truly is the best person you could ever have in your life, the best mother anyone could ask for. Her endless gossip might get on your nerves, but you tolerate it because she once patiently listened to all your teenage dramas in high school—now it's your turn to return the favor. You wouldn't call it a favor; you'll say it's a duty now, which at the end of the day, you like.

You wouldn't say that to her, though—she'll be over the moon about it. But it's not about all that right now, because she's standing in front of you, her eyes wide like saucers and lips slightly parted, struggling to speak but unable to, and the sight leaves you breathless. Because your grip on Jungkook's

hands has tightened so much, he's beginning to wonder if his bones might break. You want to greet her, hug her, but as you lift your foot to step forward, your mother speaks, "What the hell?!" Her voice rings out, loud and full of shock. Both of you flinch at the sudden outburst, and you instinctively take a step back, startled by her reaction. The tears pour down her face, you watch her, and burst out in tears too.

"M-mom—" "What the hell is this—" she murmurs and covers your mouth with her trembling palms. "I-I can expla—" "There's no need for explanation! I see it all!" She speaks, her tone laced with embarrassment over her daughter. You can't bring yourself to meet her eyes, shame washing over you for letting her down.

Yet deep inside, you know you love your child unconditionally—nothing will ever make you feel ashamed of that. This feeling only exists because of your mother's judgment, not your own heart. Her eyes move from your bump to the man beside you, her lips parting even more as the minutes pass. You want to hide from her and everyone else, from the world.

Jungkook beside you isn't doing anything at all, and that's because he's afraid of what would happen if he speaks. The situation isn't calling for him, so he'd rather keep quiet than make things worse. Your lips tremble as you try to hold back your sobs and tears; your mother can't collect herself, so she zones out as she tries to think about it. Jungkook shifts uneasily,

aware of how long the two of you have been lingering at the doorway, but he can't bring himself to say anything. Relief and anxiety churn inside him as your father appears, walking toward you both. "Who's at the door, darling?" he murmurs, his voice steady as he steps closer and pushes the door open wider. You freeze in place, your hand slipping from Jungkook's grasp without thinking.

Your father's gaze locks on you, his expression unreadable as he scans you, then shifts to the boy beside you. He says nothing. The silence is suffocating, heavy enough to make your heart race. A pit forms in your stomach as regret seeps in—you wish you hadn't come back home. Your sobs get uncontrollable, and your cries get loud and heavier than they were.

You've never cried this hard; the last time you did was when you found out about your pregnancy—never again. "D-dad—" You're gasping for air, crying so hard it feels like you might break. Jungkook's starting to panic, his worry mixing with anger. Why the hell are your parents just standing there, letting this happen at the doorway, when you're a total mess—and pregnant?

His jaw tightens, grabbing your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he turns to face you. "Hey... hey," he whispers, trying to pull you back from whatever's breaking you. His voice is soft but shaky, desperate to calm you down, because this isn't just crying—it's something deeper, and it's killing him to see you like this, and he can't take it anymore.

Your parents watch the scene unfold, their frowns deepening as they notice the stranger holding their daughter. "Y/N, shhh," Jungkook whispers, his voice soft but strained. He's desperate to calm you down, his worry growing with every shaky breath you take.

You're such a mess, and he's terrified this much crying might make you sick. You cling to his hand tightly, trying to steady yourself as you gather the courage to speak. But before you can, your father cuts in.

"Come inside," he orders, his tone sharp. Jungkook stiffens, startled by the sudden authority in his voice, and you flinch. You glance at your father as he pulls the door open wider and steps inside. That tone—it's so unlike him. He's never spoken to you like that before, and it only makes the tears flow harder.

If Jungkook had a choice, he wouldn't step inside. It's not about his pride—it's about you. Sure, you're their daughter, and he gets that they're shocked and struggling to process everything. But making you stand at the doorway for over twenty minutes, crying your heart out while nosy neighbors peek from behind curtains? That's where his patience runs out.

The sight of you breaking down like this, with no one stepping in to help, fuels nothing but anger in him. You deserve better—pregnant, vulnerable, and hurting—and the fact that they can't see that makes his chest tighten with frustration. He gets it—it's not an easy situation. This isn't some casual introduction of your boyfriend. You're pregnant, unmarried,

and with a man they know nothing about. Of course, it's hard for them to take in—it's overwhelming, even. But still. At the very least, they could take you inside first. Let him stay out; he doesn't care about that. What matters is you—giving you a seat, letting you breathe. Watching you cry like this, standing in full view for the world to see, feels unbearably wrong, and it only adds to the weight in his chest. Jungkook holds your arms as he helps you walk inside slowly.

He focuses on your feet and sobbing, all he wants is to make you sit down on a couch. That will ease him. Your father sits on his maroon armchair, which looked worn out, like it's been used for the past 15 years. You sit on the larger couch as Jungkook rubs his hand on your hair, looking at your face with a frown.

"Stay here, I'll take our luggage inside, mm?" he whispers to you, not wanting your parents to hear his voice. You tug at your nose and nod at his words, unsure of what else to do. He casts a brief glance at your mother, who glares at him as though he's unwelcome in her home. Without a word, he carries the luggage inside, setting it against the wall.

Yours, he moves closer to the stairs, a quiet act of care. His own, he leaves untouched, off to the side. It's clear he has no intention of staying the night—or perhaps he knows better, judging by the sharp chill of your parents' silent judgment. He walks back to stand beside you, not wanting to take a seat because it's obvious that no one wants him here.

Your mother sits in front of you. She doesn't speak a word as she tries to collect her thoughts first. Your father, on the other hand, does not seem very angry as your mother does; he looks disappointed. "Can you explain this to me?" your father speaks up as he communicates with his eyes, moving from your bump to the man beside you. You gulp, nodding.

You wipe off the tears that run down your cheek and pull your nose. "I w-will!" You sit up straighter, trying to claw back the confidence you'd built over the past few weeks—the same confidence that crumbled the second your mom opened the door. Jungkook looks like he wants to reach out, maybe grab your arm to let you know he's there, but he doesn't.

Not with the way your parents are glaring at him like he's the worst decision you've ever made. You take a moment, your eyes darting around as you try to gather your thoughts, piecing together words that refuse to come out as sentences. "I..." you start, your voice faltering, stammering under the weight of the truth. How do you explain something so unreal?

That the man standing beside you was once a stranger, someone you hooked up with, only to discover later he was your boss. That the pregnancy you never planned became a mistake you embraced wholeheartedly. And now, here you are—hopelessly in love with both him and the life you're creating together.

It would sound completely like you've taken it out from a film, but it's the raw truth, and you just can't seem to find a way to explain it to them. Jungkook sees the struggle; your parents see it too, and it only makes them fear for what they must hear next.

"So I..." This time, Jungkook doesn't wait; he places his palm on your shoulder so he can speak this out. He doesn't want to put the whole burden on you when he was an equal part of this.

"Please don't take it out on her. This... this whole thing was a mess, and if anyone's at fault, it's me. More than her," he says quietly, his voice steady despite the weight of your parents' piercing gazes. You stay silent, your words stuck in your throat.

The way he steps in, taking the blame for something that wasn't entirely his fault, twists something deep inside you. He's shouldering everything, trying to protect you, and it makes your heart ache in ways you can't put into words.

"No... don't do this, Jungkook," you murmur, and he looks down at you with a frown. You wipe your tears away, not wanting to cry anymore. You're determined to lay everything out for them, no matter how messy or awkward it gets. They deserve to know the full story—every detail, no sugarcoating, no covering things up.

You can't stand the idea of them hating Jungkook, and more than anything, you want them to accept the baby you created together. This little life means everything to you, and you need them to see that too.

"You don't have to take the blame on yourself," you say and pull his hand to sit beside you. You want him next to you and seated. He doesn't have to stand behind you like he doesn't belong here; he's yours and belongs wherever you are. He sits, with a fair distance between you two.

"This was all unplanned, and I promise you that it all began as a mistake," you start. You're aware of your parents' decency and how they don't interrupt. You're thankful that they are respectable and allow others to keep their opinions before they speak. They listen, and you know that they will hear you out no matter how messy and awkward this situation and story is. You look at Jungkook, who gazes at your bump with his eyebrows crossed together.

"We weren't together until a few months ago, and I know that everything is very upsetting and difficult to take in, but we both are taking our responsibility and... and we are trying to do as much as we can. I just want you and Dad to support me in this." You blurt it all out in one breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if bracing for the storm of their reactions. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably beside you, awkward under the spotlight that feels far too bright, his every instinct screaming at him to escape.

Your father lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifting away as he tries to process everything you've just dropped on him. Meanwhile, your mother sits stiffly, her anger still palpable, though she holds back from yelling. Her eyes, unblinking, fall to your bump, and something softens—though only slightly. She's clearly torn, her thoughts racing as she takes in the sight of you,

undeniably pregnant, and wonders how everything came to this. You look more beautiful than you ever have, but how can she admire you when you've so clearly hidden everything from her? She can't believe how her own daughter could have kept something so important, so life-changing, hidden for so long.

The realization hits her like a cold wave, and for a moment, she's at a loss for words. The hurt is there, buried beneath her frustration, but it's not just anger—it's disbelief. How could you have kept this from her? From both of them?

Your mother finally breaks the silence, her voice quieter than you expected, yet still sharp with emotion. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she asks, her eyes narrowing in both confusion and hurt. "This... this is a huge deal, and you've kept us in the dark all this time?" Jungkook, still awkward and tense beside you, looks like he wants to say something,

but he holds back. It's clear he doesn't know what to do, how to help, or how to ease the tension that's growing thicker with every passing second. You feel the weight of your mother's gaze, the expectation for answers. You want to explain, to tell her why you waited, but the words are stuck, caught between the truth and the fear of losing her approval.

"Why, Y/N?" Her voice trails as she asks you again. You hurt her so deeply that you can hear it. You want to cry all over again, but now's the time to talk and clear everything up.

"I... I was scared," you mumble under your breath, and you hear your father chuckle sarcastically, which makes Jungkook turn his head to him in confusion.

"Scared?" he repeats what you said. "I thought we raised you to tell us every. single. thing about your life. The silly, the happy, the worrying, the anger—and even the crazy things you've faced," your father says, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and hurt. His words slice through the tension in the room, a reminder of the trust and openness he believed you'd always share with both your parents.

Your mother's eyes are searching yours, waiting for some kind of explanation, some reassurance that this was just a mistake, a misstep on your part. But you know there's no easy way to make things right. You look down at your bump, feeling ashamed of hiding this big deal from your own parents.

Jungkook is taking notes on how each of your parents speaks. Your father speaks warmly, even if his words are limited and cold for the moment. He senses that he's still being delicate with it for you. He's also observed how your father is a quiet man who takes his time to give a reaction, in comparison to your mother, who has outbursts from time to time.

"We did not expect this from you, Y/N," your mother says as she looks at you with red eyes and trembling lips. It stings you in each layer of your skin and heart because you're well aware of this. You did not expect this from yourself either, and although you grew out of it with time, it resurfaces now that your mother says it.

"Enough, honey," your old man stops her from saying anything more, and Jungkook relaxes his tightened jaw when he hears it. He's glad that your dad spoke up because now's not the time to throw any more taunts. What's done has already been done, and putting you down is not going to magically make it all disappear.

"But—"

"They're tired. Let them rest. We can talk about this tomorrow," he says and stands up from his armchair. Jungkook does not know what to do, so he sits still.

"Have you both had dinner?" he asks, and you nod. You're not very hungry since you had your meal on the flight along with snacks that Jungkook got for you. The man beside you nods too, so your father hums.

"You can go to your bedroom, Y/N." You get on your feet with the help of Jungkook. You don't want to leave the room without completely solving everything, but you also can't take it anymore. You're in desperate need of rest, and you're not ready for a lengthy conversation yet.

Jungkook somehow feels something isn't right when he leads you to the stairs as you guide him up to your old bedroom. And he guessed it when your father says, "You can't stay with her," he announces, and you both stop in your tracks and look at him. You're frowning, and the guy next to you is biting his lower lip like he saw this coming.

"He can use the guest room, downstairs," your dad says, and Jungkook just nods. You don't say anything else. Honestly, with all the drama, you're just glad he gets to stay at your place, especially since your parents were so against him.

You lead him to your bedroom, and he helps you sit on your bed, removing the layers of coats that you put on. No words leave your lips, nor does Jungkook's, but surely the awkwardness floats in the air, and all you want to do right now is go back home and sleep in his arms. This doesn't feel like home, mostly because of the negativity that lies around. You hope it all clears when the day arrives. You pray for it, but right now, you both must accept this.

"Can you help me use the washroom?" you ask, and he stills at your question. He feels very aware of everything, like your parents are watching the two of you through the walls. You seem to figure it out and shake your head. "They might see us—"

"They won't... please..." you whisper, and he agrees. It's not that he does not want to help you, lord no. He'll do anything for you, but he's also developed a fear toward your parents with whatever happened a while ago. He helps to remove your socks and shoes, then leads you out of the room because your old bedroom does not have an attached washroom. He walks you and sees your father standing by the corridor, giving him a side-eye, which makes Jungkook gulp.

"I'll stay right here. Let me know when you're done," he says to you as he shuts the door and leans against it, not sparing a glance at the surrounding because he can see the old man by the corner of his eye.

You feel such relief after finally emptying your bladder. The tension from holding it in for so long is gone, leaving you feeling completely free.

"I'm done!" you yell as he nods and gives a tight smile when he meets your father's eyes. Jungkook walks you to your room and puts away all your coats. You both are quiet as he brings up your suitcase and places it on the couch so it's easier for you to reach your clothes. You notice how he looks irritated, his eyebrows creased, and his jaw tightened as he picks a pair of PJs for you to dress for the night.

You look at him curiously, wanting him to speak. You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows to signal him. He glances at you, then goes back to the clothes.

"Say something..." you whisper, and he sighs. You don't like his silence, and even though the matter is not solved yet, both your parents are mad at you, you don't want him to be angry at you either.

"Jungkook... are you mad at me?" you mumble under your breath, and he breathes deeply as he drops his hand and looks down. He doesn't want to tell you that he's angry and scared.

"I'm not, darling."

"Then why a—"

"I want to see you downstairs, not in her bedroom," your mother says as she stands by your door with her arms crossed. Jungkook clenches his jaw as he places your clothes on the bed and stomps out of your room without sparing a glance. You feel a twinge in your heart; you didn't want him to leave just like that. He didn't even say good night. You look up at your mother, then sigh.

"Mom—"

"I don't want to hear anything from you," she says as she steps inside, coming to a stop in front of you. Her arms remain firmly crossed over her chest as she fixes you with a stern gaze. You avoid her eyes, your attention wandering around the room instead.

She studies your face intently, taking in the soft fullness of your cheeks and the radiant glow that seems new and unfamiliar. You look so beautiful—pregnancy suits you in a way she never expected. You notice her staring at you, which makes you feel uncomfortable, but you don't address it.

"We will talk tomorrow. Get some rest now," she speaks, and you hum as she leaves the room after placing a bottle of water on your desk.

You sigh when the door closes. You look around your room and notice how everything is just as it was when you left. Nothing has changed, except for you. You feel lonely here, unlike before. You used to enjoy your own company, but now things have changed. You enjoy his company, and you can't wait to go back home and spend the rest of your nights with him.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is offered the guest room. He hesitates to suggest staying at a hotel—not because he wouldn't, but because he refuses to leave you. From everything you've told him, he expected your parents to be loving and accepting,

even though the situation is life-changing. That was the only reason the idea of a hotel even crossed his mind. But now? No way. There's no chance he's leaving you alone, not when your parents are this furious.

Your father stands by the door as Jungkook looks around the room and blinks. It's very different from his; the room is warm, homely, and has a touch of family in it, unlike his luxurious, cold rooms. "All good?" your dad asks, and Jungkook turns to speak. "Yes, thank you." He places his suitcase on the single chair and waits for your father to leave, but he doesn't. Instead, he walks toward Jungkook, leaving him nervous.

"I don't know who you are, but... you don't seem to be someone who would hurt my daughter," your father begins. "Until everything is clear, I don't want to see you around her. It doesn't matter what's going on between you two." Jungkook feels like his jaw might shatter from how tightly he's clenching it, but he forces himself to nod in response. He remains rooted to the spot, his fists trembling at his sides, until your father finally walks out.

The moment the door closes, he lets out a muffled curse under his breath. "Fucking hell!" His frustration boils over, and he stomps his foot in anger. Everything is a mess, and knowing how uncertain it all is from this night makes Jungkook fear for the future.

Jungkook ; Did you take your meds?

You grab your phone when you see the screen light up. Turning carefully to the side, you read his texts and respond.

You ; Yes, I did.

Jungkook ; Good. Are you okay?

You pout at his words, mostly at how cold they sound through the screen. You know he's not in his best mood, and neither are you, but it's not making you feel better, especially when you need him the most at this moment.

You ; Are you mad at me?

Jungkook turns to his left side and sighs when he reads your texts. He doesn't want to sound angry, but can he control himself? Definitely not.

Jungkook : I'm not, baby. I just don't feel okay.

You ; Can you call me? I want to hear you.

Jungkook ; No, not today. I don't want us to fall into trouble right now.

You agree. Now is not the time to call when everything is still heated, so neither of you reaches out, even though you both badly want to. The night is cold, much colder in the empty room you share. This was your bedroom, a place you spent your childhood and teenage years, but none of those memories matter to you now. You've had both happy and sad times here, but you don't dwell on them.

Instead, you focus on the future because that's what matters most—a future where you share every living moment with the man you love and the child you carry. Your parents beside you, supporting your decisions and being part of your life-changing experiences. That's what you think and wish for.

So you turn onto your side, trying to fall asleep, though it doesn't come easy. After hours of counting sheep, you manage to drift off, but it takes every ounce of effort. Meanwhile, Jungkook stays awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering about the "what ifs" and how he's going to face your parents in the morning.

He mentally prepares himself for whatever is left to come and thinks about how he'll protect you from all their questions.

Your parents aren't sleeping soundly either. In the quiet of the room they share, they collect their thoughts together. Last night, they couldn't sleep in excitement at the thought of seeing their only daughter again, but tonight, they lie awake in disappointment and shock that their daughter knocked on their door with a stranger and a pregnant belly.

;

Morning rolls around, and you wake up to the smell of fried eggs and bacon and—a couple of very uncomfortable movements and kicks. "Bun... where are you?" you whine as you try to sit upright and get out of bed. One palm stays on your belly, and the other takes support of the bed. Sometimes, just trying to sit up feels like a whole mission.

After lying down for hours, dragging yourself out of bed can feel like such a chore—especially when the baby's in some weird position, and you can't even tell if it's a hand or a foot giving you that little kick. You try to understand what's what, and by the time you do, there's a movement again.

You're tired at this point, can't wait for the baby to pop out because this does not feel like months—it feels like years since you carried this child. "You're being a pain today, I swear," you mumble as you stand up and take your clothes for the day. You walk out of your room to get to the washroom and meet your father along the way.

"Morning," he says, and you give him a tight smile.

"Morning, Dad."

He helps you with the door, and somehow you feel like the mood may have shifted since last night. He doesn't seem too mad, and he's also giving you a soft smile. Your father has always been a kind-hearted man. He doesn't lose his temper easily and has the patience to handle things calmly. He cools down quickly, which helps him empathize more easily—unlike your mother, who takes a bit longer to let things go.

You love that about him; it's why you like to share most things with him. You used to when you were back in high school and college. Things shifted when you got messy and became a woman. You got closer to your mom, but that doesn't change that you've always been a daddy's girl. Maybe you don't tell him everything now like you used to, but inside your heart and mind,

you're closest to him. That's why he feels hurt more deeply than your mother, even though he rarely shows it. While your mother expresses her feelings through words and actions, he lets his pain show in his silence. If you could look at him more closely, you'd see it all in his eyes—whether it's happiness, sadness, or anger.

It's also one of the reasons why you love Jungkook. His eyes hold galaxies just the way your dad's do.

You shower and walk downstairs carefully, holding the railing while you take each step. You come to face your mother and Jungkook already at the dining table. He has a blank expression on his face as he looks at the food on the table.

"Morning..." you murmur, and he turns his head to look at you. A shine radiates from his features, like you turned on a bulb in him. Your mother glances at you and mutters the same as she seats herself on her chair. You can still see that she's not very happy yet. Jungkook helps you sit and pulls the chair for you.

"I cooked your peameal bacon and pancakes," she mentions as she puts some on your plate, freshly cooked and warm.

You smile and nod. "Thanks..." you mumble. You four share breakfast in silence; only the clinking and scraping of your forks and knives fill the place. You had about four pancakes, two eggs, and a very long drizzle of maple syrup. Your parents glance at each other when you eat so much, making Jungkook feel uncomfortable because they gaze at him too.

He was used to seeing you gobble your food down, but they weren't. You barely ate before, trying to look good and in shape, but now... they feel happy too, seeing you eating so carefree.

"Where are the dogs?" you ask, curiously looking around. Your dogs would usually lie around here somewhere. "They are at Aunt Susan's place. She wanted some company since... Uncle Dan passed away." Your eyes bulge at your mother's words. "What?!" She gulps and nods like it's been ages since that happened. "He passed away a while ago now."

You couldn't believe it because Uncle Dan was someone who played a major role during your childhood. And although he wasn't really there for you after you turned eleven, he was someone special, so it hit you that he passed away not so long ago.

"Well, it doesn't really matter. What matters now is you two," she mutters as she gets up from her chair, screeching it and collecting the empty plates while you nervously look over at Jungkook as he freezes with his fork hanging in the air, waiting to be inside his open mouth.

"Mom... can you hear me out, please—"

"What? You're gonna tell me about this boy you've come with? Who is he even? How old is he? Twenty? And what's on his arm?! He looks unholy—"

"Mom, stop!" you raise your voice at her to stop her from talking rubbish about the man who sits beside you.

Your mother now does her chores with a lot of sound, proving to you that she's angry. You deeply exhale as you try to calm yourself down and not explode at her.

"He's not twenty; he's not a boy. He's a man, he's got his job, and he has a name for himself. If you don't know who he is, you should look it up."

You continue to speak, even though Jungkook gives you the look. He doesn't want them to know that he's a renowned businessman and all that. He doesn't like the boasting about himself. Even though that's not your intention, it puts him in the spotlight, which makes him uncomfortable.

"And about his ta—" Jungkook places his palm on yours to stop you from dragging this, but you don't buy it. "His tattoos don't change anything about him. I like them, and that sums everything."

You mumble and eat up the last piece of pancake before getting up from the chair and washing your own dishes. Your father looks down at his food and doesn't know if he should be happy about how you stand for the man in front of him or angry at how you spoke to your mother. 

"You need to stop talking to me like that, young lady!"

"Mom, what?" You chuckle and lean against the cabinet. "You don't want to hear me explain anything, but you also come up with assumptions? At least hear me out. I know you're mad and disappointed in me, but trust me, this was all unplanned. I... don't want to call it a mistake because I don't think it is one now. But... I promise you that none of this was in my plan or hands." You gently run your hand over your bump, smiling at how big it's gotten and how close your due date is.

Your mom slows her dishwashing, quietly listening to you talk. She's not mad at you about any of this—just hurt that you kept her in the dark all these months. You walk away from the kitchen to the backyard, feeling suffocated in the tension. Jungkook reaches for his plate, ready to wash it, but your mother gently takes it from his hands. He hesitates before speaking, his voice steady but full of sincerity.

"She's seven months pregnant, and... I know I'm still a stranger to you. I know you don't think I'm the right person for her, but I haven't left her side since the pregnancy. Even when we couldn't stand each other for months, I stayed. Things are different now. I really, really care about her. What she needs most is your support—that's what will help her feel better," he says as he backs away from the cabinet and walks to your dad. "Can I be with he—"

"No. I'll go."

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sigh as the conversation ends. Meanwhile, your father peeks outside and notices you sitting quietly on the step in the backyard. He walks over and settles beside you, his eyes fixed on the birds chirping on the electric fence. Neither of you speaks, and neither looks at the other.

You sit there together in heavy silence, your chest tight as you fight back tears. You never thought it would hurt this much, but everything feels overwhelming now. All you want is to go back home, curl up in the bed you share with Jungkook, and hold Bam close until the pain eases.

"Seven months, huh..." your dad murmurs. He smiles and looks up at the beautiful blue sky. "Boy? Or girl?"

"We didn't check the gender yet."

He nods, his smile only getting wider. "You know, when your mother was pregnant with you after three tries, we thought you'd be a boy. I was so sure of it! I got you blue clothes and basketball toys and spent bucks on all that, only for you to be born a girl." He chuckles as he recalls the old times.

"Were you disappointed?"

"Oh God, no. Never." He says with a gasp as his hand reaches to caress your face. "You're no less than a boy, if you ask me."

He chuckles, prompting you to roll your eyes, though a smile sneaks onto your face. Your father gazes at you with pure affection. He loves you deeply, enough to give you the entire world if he could. So, you made a mistake—what of it? At least you had the courage to own up to it, embrace it, and cherish it. He tells you that in his own words, and you feel much heavier than before. Because your father is so kindly accepting you, it fills your heart with love for him, even if the disappointment and agony inside you grow too.

"Look at you. He takes good care of you, I can see."

You blush at this and nod your head. Your father pulls you closer to him and caresses your arm.

"He does..." you whisper. Jungkook is everything you could have hoped for in this phase of your life. Even though he was part of this unexpected situation, he stayed—and that alone speaks volumes. Through all the ups and downs you've faced together, he never once walked away.

"He's the CEO of Jeon Industries, right?" You nod with furrowed eyebrows.

'So Dad googled him...' you think.

"How did all this... happen?" he asks, curiously.

And you explained it to him, leaving out all the explicit details. Your father didn't judge you or give you any looks. In fact, he listened with open ears and arms. Your smile faded while you explained the very beginning of the horrific news, but as you came closer to the incidents that took place recently,

your father noticed how your smile grew and how excited you were. Like you're living in the moment when you talk about Bam and how you both fought and how he made up for it. Your father noticed little details, like how you say Jungkook's name and your eyes sparkle. All that sums up to one question that he had in his mind.

"So, you love him?"

You paused at this. Your eyes blink a couple of times as you look around, trying to find a way to answer this sudden question. This makes him burst into laughter, resulting in your frown. "What, Papa??" you ask, your frown deepening.

"You love him, Y/N... oh, you love him," he says and gets on his feet, walking into the house, leaving you confused.

;

You've never felt so lonely in your home before. Your mom would entertain you, or you would be busy with a presentation to submit in a few days. Now you look at random objects and think of random thoughts with nothing to do. Your father didn't share everything you told him with your mother. He wanted you to tell her yourself. But he did ask her to be gentle with you and not lash out, even if she's more sad than angry right now.

Jungkook wants to be with you, sit next to you, but he can't. He doesn't want to disrespect your parents, so he settles inside his room, texting you or checking on his emails. He hates it here, but he won't tell you. You ask your mother if you could help her cook lunch, and she said she didn't want your help, which made you upset. You've got nothing to do, and it eats you up that you're just zoning out when you could be doing something useful.

"Mom, please, let me help with something," you plead, leaving her no choice but to hand you the chopping board.

You give her the side eye while you chop the vegetables for meat pie. You don't make an attempt to talk to her, but neither of you can handle the silence anymore, so she asks you, "How many months are you?"

"Seven..." She nods while she stirs the broth.

"Do you plan to deliver here or in Korea?"

The question stings a little, a reminder of how your parents haven't been as involved in your pregnancy as they would have liked. You don't want to answer and risk making her feel even sadder. Your silence speaks volumes, though, and she senses your hesitation.

"It's okay," she says softly, her voice understanding. "Just say you want to deliver in Korea."

She walks over to you and places her hand on your shoulder. "You don't have to think too much." She smiles, making you feel lighter instantly. "I'll take these." She takes the cutting board and gets back to work. You see Jungkook peeking at you from his room. He gives you a thumbs up, and you give him a flying kiss.

;

The day slips by quietly. You stroll through the neighborhood with your father and Jungkook, though he couldn't walk beside you like he wanted to—he had to follow behind, which annoyed him, but he went along with it anyway. Jungkook had not been feeling very well; he can't stand how he has to stand meters away from you when you're just around.

He wants to hug you, kiss you, and tell you how he feels, but he can't. You know that too. You see his frustration, and you feel the same. All you want to do is sleep in his arms, and you can't wait to go back home.

To your home.

You didn't talk much to your mother, but your dad did. He shared a few things with her, and it seemed to help her understand everything. Tomorrow, you'd be leaving, and she was trying to come to terms with it all, hoping to send you off on a positive note. She'd been watching you and your bump whenever you were busy reading a book, and she couldn't help but feel so soft at the sight of you and her grandchild.

She wanted to ask you about everything, buy baby clothes, pack up, and be ready to fly to Korea when you deliver. She wanted to do so much, and for that, she must talk to you. 

;

Lunch was quiet, and so was dinner. But when your mother approached the dining table with a bowl of warm apple cinnamon rolls, you swear you almost teared up on the spot. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," she says with tears in her eyes, and you shake your head, pulling the chair so she can sit in front of you. Your father signals Jungkook that they shouldn't be here, so the men get up from their seats and walk to the backyard together. 

"Mom, don't be sorry! I totally get why you reacted like that—anyone would've!" 

"But I should've checked on you first," she says, tears still falling. It hurts to see her cry.  "Hey, Mom..." you wipe away her tears and give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Let me tell you about the crazy journey I've been on!"  She nods quickly, letting out a little laugh, and you watch her, curious about what she'll say.

You shared with her how you and Jungkook were complete opposites and how everything between you was such a chaotic mess. You really thought it would never work out. But somehow, it did. As you recounted all the wild moments, your mom couldn't help but laugh along with you, even though she still had her doubts about Jungkook. 

He wasn't the man she had envisioned for you—she'd dreamed of someone entirely different. Jungkook, being the exact opposite, made it hard for her to warm up to him. She didn't understand what you saw in him. Even by looks, he didn't seem all that good in her opinion, and with those tats that she hated, it made it more difficult to like him. 

While you and your mother had a chat about the past few months, Jungkook and your dad had strolled out into the backyard. Jungkook felt awkward, like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin in the oppressive silence, especially with your dad shooting him subtle glances every few minutes. He wanted to have a conversation but knew Jungkook was nervous and uncomfortable. He wanted to break the ice, to talk to the boy and know him better, to know you better. 

Finally, your dad broke the tension. 

"So, Jungkook... tell me about yourself. Your family? What you do?"  Clearing his throat, Jungkook straightened up, trying his hardest to sound professional—he was too nervous to speak naturally. 

"I'm the CEO of Jeon Industries... I, uh... don't really have a family." 

His voice trailed off as he avoided eye contact, glancing around the yard as if it might offer an escape. He tried not to sound affected, but deep down, the lack of a family stung more in moments like this. Being with your tight-knit family made him feel out of place—ashamed, even—though he'd never admit it. He didn't know how to speak to your dad. The pressure of speaking *to* a father—something he'd never done before—scared him. 

"I like to think Y/N as my only family..." he mumbled under his breath, not wanting your dad to hear him, but he did, and he smiled. He liked that, a lot. 

"You don't have to be nervous, son." 

Jungkook froze mid-step when he heard the word *son*. It hit him like a wave, a word he'd never had the chance to claim as his own. The sound of it lingered in the air, sinking deep into his chest and settling in a place he didn't know was empty. For a fleeting moment, he wished he could hear it again, over and over, like a melody meant just for him. 

Your dad might've understood more than he let on because his eyes smiled warmly at Jungkook, even if his lips didn't fully follow. It was the kind of look that said he knew—he knew Jungkook hadn't heard words like that before and silently wished he could offer them more. 

"Can I call you son?" he asked softly. 

Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his round doe eyes speaking louder than any words ever could. 

"Can I—" 

"Y-yes, yes... please," Jungkook whispered, his voice trembling as a genuine smile spread across his face. He didn't realize how much he needed it until he heard it. 

Your dad opened his arms, his voice gentle but firm. "Come here." 

Jungkook stepped forward, his hesitance fading as he accepted the embrace. It wasn't just a hug—it was a moment that stitched together a part of his heart he didn't know was broken. Jungkook hadn't felt a male presence in his life for as long as he could remember—no father, no father figure to guide or comfort him. 

But this hug, this simple embrace, seemed to mend something deep within him. It was as if all the tangled emotions he'd buried over the years unraveled in an instant, leaving behind a quiet, unexpected sense of peace. It completed him in ways he didn't know he needed, filling a void he'd long ignored. And in that moment, all he wanted was to know what it meant to truly have a father—and to be one himself. 

You four sit together for dinner, and things have never been better. None of you are sulking, and there's no feeling of anger. All that's left is peace and happiness. 

Your dad strikes up a conversation with Jungkook about business, their tones shifting between casual and analytical, while your mom focuses entirely on you, piling more food onto your plate every chance she gets. She barely spares a glance at Jungkook, her disapproval lingering quietly, even as her husband seems to admire the man sitting beside you.

Despite your dad's growing fondness for Jungkook, your mom remains unconvinced, her gestures more protective than welcoming, as though silently questioning if this man is truly the right one for her child. 

You feel Jungkook holding your thigh and bump every chance he gets under the table. Since he's barely made any contact with you, he craves it so much more, and he can't wait to get back home and make love to you, skin on skin, with no one to stop or fear. 

After dinner, your mom gently suggested you head to bed early and even asked if she could join you. Her question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, unsure how to respond. 

Your dad, always observant, noticed the fleeting glance you exchanged with Jungkook—and how Jungkook immediately choked on his water, scrambling to cover it up by suddenly fixating on the slightly crooked frames hanging on the wall. 

Clearing his throat, your dad chuckled softly, pretending not to notice Jungkook's awkwardness. "Guess I'll fix those tomorrow," he said, his tone light, though his knowing glance at your mom betrayed his thoughts. 

"I can help you with that, Mr. Lee..." Jungkook began, but your dad quickly cut him off.  "Oh, shut it. Don't call me that," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Call me Dad."  Your mother whipped her head around at the words, her expression a mix of confusion and surprise, as if she was silently asking, *What on earth is going on?* 

You couldn't help but glance between Jungkook and your dad, wondering when exactly their bond had formed.  Jungkook, though clearly anxious, couldn't help the small warmth that spread through him at the thought of calling him 'dad.' Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly. "Of course! Come on," your dad said, his voice full of reassurance. 

Jungkook bit his lower lip, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to spread across his face. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at the sight of their unexpected camaraderie, even though your mom's quiet frustration was evident in the way she folded her arms, unsure what to make of it all.

;

"mmmm you look like you're having a boy..." your mother says with a smile beaming through her face as she hands you the pills and a glass of water, examining your belly while you lay on the bed. "Really? I wouldn't mind either way," you say and gulp down the vitamins. "Oh, I'm so excited for you! We can go out tomorrow if you wish... since you'll be leaving at night."

You nodded and handed back the glass, wiping off your lips. "Good night, Y/N. Call me if you need anything..." "Good night, Mom." She walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. You immediately grabbed your phone and texted him.

You ; Pstttttt wake uppppppp

Jungkook ; I never slept, darling

You ; Come out in... 10 mins

Jungkook; Why???

You ; I want to see you

Jungkook ; You saw me the whole dayyyy

You ; I want to touch you

Jungkook ; Don't talk unholy, Y/N!

You giggled at the reference to your mom that Jungkook typed.

You ; plssssssss

Jungkook ; If we get caught, Y/N, it would be bad

You ; They're probably asleep, we won't get caught, trust meeeeeeeeee

Jungkook ; Your parents strictly told me to stay away from you

You ; Either you meet me down, or I'm coming into your room, and we fuck

Jungkook ; What the fuckk!

You ; You heard me, and I'm hungry anyway.

Jungkook ; Stubborn.

You waited patiently, tapping your phone and looking around the room, finding the old posters of The Beatles so fascinating, like you're seeing them for the first time ever. You even put a timer on your phone because you're not waiting any longer than 10 minutes; it already feels like an hour. As soon as the timer says 1 second left, you get on your feet.

"Baby, you need to stop kicking me right now. I'm not in the mood for this pain. But I'm so in the mood for your father!!!!" You giggle and open your room door, peeking out to see if your parents are around. Then you tiptoe down the stairs very carefully because you don't want to roll down the stairs.

"Oh my god, Y/N, give me your hand!" he whispers as he comes up the stairs and slowly takes you down.

"Jungkook!!!!" you jump and hug him. You miss him so much, you would rip his clothes right this moment at how excited you are.

"Baby, I miss you." "I miss you so much moreeeee." "No, I do!" "Nope, it's me." You both fight as you stay in each other's embrace. You miss his warmth and just the feeling of him so much.

"I wanna fuck so badly." "Shhhhh, behave, Y/N." He covers your mouth, looking around just in case your parents hear you. "I don't want to behave," you whisper, your lips grazing his ear, a hint of mischief lacing your words. He closes his eyes at the feeling of your lips. He doesn't want you to behave either,

but he can't; you both must be cautious. You're not alone here. "Being on your best behavior gets you nothing. So why not be bad instead?"** Jungkook's jaw tightens, his dark eyes narrowing as he tilts his head to face you.

"You think being bad will get you what you want?" You smirk, leaning in closer. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like it better when you try to fix me." A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, but his expression remains firm. "Oh, I'll teach you how to behave when we get home."

"Yes, please, Mr. Jeon..." He arches a brow, his tone dropping an octave as he counters, "Being on your best behavior has its benefits, darling." "Then teach me, sir..." "Don't test me, Y/N. We're not home," he warns, his dark eyes flashing with intensity. You can't help but chuckle at how quickly he reacts, you intentionally edge him. "I'm hungry! Make me something..."

"This isn't my kitchen..." he protests, glancing around nervously. "I know, but do something," you reply, gesturing at the ingredients scattered on the counter. "Your mom will kill me if she sees this mess." "I'm giving you full permission to mess up my mom's kitchen. So just do it. Make me something," you insist with a playful pout.

He rolls his eyes but relents, pulling open the fridge in search of something quick and easy. After rummaging through its contents, he grabs crackers, peanut butter, and jelly—something simple that won't create too much chaos. As he starts preparing, you interrupt with a soft plea.

"Wait—come here. Help me sit on the counter, please.!"  "Y/N..." he sighs, but there's no real annoyance in his voice, just mild exasperation mixed with affection. He steps closer and gently lifts you, his hands steady as he sets you down on the cool countertop. You smile at him, swinging your legs slightly.

"Much better. Now I can supervise properly." "Supervise? All you're doing is sitting there and watching me," he teases, smearing peanut butter onto a cracker with deliberate care. "Exactly. I'm an excellent supervisor. And also—"You pause, poking his arm to grab his attention. "I like being close to you."

For a moment, his movements falter, and he glances up at you with an unreadable expression. Then he shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You're so annoying."  "Yeah, but you love it," you quip, making him chuckle as he resumes his task. Minutes later, he holds up a cracker sandwich triumphantly. "Here. Gourmet dining at its finest."

You giggle, taking the makeshift snack from his hand. "Who needs a five-star chef when I have you?" "Yeah, yeah," he mutters, turning away, but you catch the faint blush creeping up his neck and red ears, popping a cracker into his mouth as you pull his arm to make him get closer to you. "Stay close..." you whisper as you deeply exhale in his warmth. You miss him so much, you can't wait to be around him every second.

"I want to go home." You mumble while licking the peanut butter off your finger. "But you are home..." he says with a frown. "Home is where you are, Jungkook, where we both are together." This makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn't show it. "Yeah?" he asks, and you nod with an eyebrow raise. "Getting quite good with your words, huh?" "I've always been good with my words and actions."

"That, I know," he says with a smirk, scooping a dollop of peanut butter and playfully smearing it on your nose. "Heyyy!" you protest through laughter, retaliating by dabbing a bit on his nose too.

"Shhh..." he whispers, his chuckles melting into the quiet warmth of the moment. He cups your jaw gently, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leans in, resting his forehead against yours. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, eyes locked, the soft hum of affection filling the air. Neither of you notices the figures watching from just beyond the doorway.

"They really do love each other, honey," your dad says softly, his voice filled with quiet pride as he glances at his wife and wraps an arm around her shoulders. She smiles, her eyes glistening with emotion.

"I know... I know," she whispers.

next chapter ⇢

[oh-no-its-bird]

saw your kaguya/sakumo and raise you toneri otsutsuki being in love with kakashi instead of Hinata if only because i think it'd be really, really funny for the team to have to deal with the fact that a sorta god wants their sensei. and also for Hinata. like you go to rescue your sister only for her kidnapper to demand your hokages hand in marriage for her eyes and return. what the fuck do you do.

does this make sense? absolutely not. do i think it'd be funny anyway? absolutely yes.

I have NO idea who this man is but I am absolutely on board, 100000%, I love Kakashi crack ships. Kakashi gets his own space man !!! Good for him!

Looking him up and scrolling through his wiki rn, hes so cute?? I love his design wtf. Very fun story too-- was this a movie guy or part of the actual base anime? I dunno but Im a fan of him now, let him make Kakashi his attic wife, it'll be funny

I do think that objectively, the funniest thing u could do here is start off w the canon of him falling in love with Hinata, kidnapping her, all that-- but then he sees Kakashi and has Thoughts And Feelings(TM) and is now like. Conflicted.

This man does not know what polyamory is (and obviously neither Hinata or Kakashi would be interested either way, probably especially bc the other is involved bc that is weird and uncomfortable) and has never really faced what "love" truly is outside of this little box he has never been challenged ab

So he's like suddenly getting super in his own head ab what is love and if he's "cheating" on Hinata by feeling a certain way ab Kakashi (boy she dont even LIKE you) and he's never experienced sexual attraction before but oh man kakashi is DOIN smthn to him rn and he doesnt know whats happening

anyways he actually ends up getting totally distracted from his goal of killing all of humanity or whatever that's ab, because he then proceeds to kidnap Kakashi to add to his Moon Harem(tm) that he refuses to admit is a moon harem bc he condemns harems and looks down upon those with concubines and or multiple wives. But like thats for sure what he is laying in bed at night thinking ab. Im thinking like comedic christain guilt energy but also he is not christain and a moon man

Meanwhile Hinata and Kakashi are on the worst impromptu field trip of their LIVES and its made extra awkward bc like.

"Oh! Hi there, girl my students age who I occasionally interacted with as a literal child and who also looks up to me! I see that this alien has kidnapped the both of us-- you with the intent to marry and me because I apparently have triggered a concerningly intense gay crisis potentially linked to years of living alone on the moon w nothing but puppets!"

"It sure seems like that, semi-father figure to my boyfriend and also man w authority over me ,who is also almost twice my age, and who I may or may not be getting forcibly, indirectly married to! At least he's too busy having a crisis to remember that 'killing all of humanity' thing...?"

"I GUESS!"

Look on the bright side Hinata! At least you get to be the main wife!

Kakashi and Hinata get to bond over the fucking insanity of the situation and try to manipulate Toneri into letting them go (or, at minimum, encourage him to continue to be too fucking distracted having multiple crisis's revolving around them to get back on that killing humanity thing)

Meanwhile Naruto lost his fuckin girlfriend AND his sensei, this is literally the worst day of his fucking life

[austenpoppy]

Wally having beef with Roy over Dick leaving the Titans

Flash, vol. 2 #83

Flash, vol. 2 #96

I find this funny because it wasn't exactly Roy's fault and Wally knows it. The government was threatening to disband the Titans if Roy didn't take over as leader, and Wally was there when Roy very reluctantly tried to convince himself this was the right thing to do.

I imagine that what really got Wally angry is that Dick wasn't supposed to leave the Titans when they had that discussion. Of course, being told by Roy after all they'd been through that he had to step down as leader of a team he'd led for years did feel like a huge betrayal for Dick, and it's sure that the vote of no-confidence from the remaining teammates didn't help protect his remaining self-esteem.

Dick lashed out pretty badly at Roy because he was at the end of his rope emotionally (after Titans Hunt, the deaths of Charly, Joey, Raven, Danny, Arabella; the destruction of Vic's body until he was barely more than a walking machine; Clark disappearing; getting raped and sexually harassed by Mirage; getting dumped by a depressed Kory over it; the failed wedding with Kory getting attacked and having this thing hurting her so badly after... Who wouldn't ?). But immediately after he loudly announced that he was leaving the team and that he knew not to stay where he wasn't wanted, Dick admitted to Donna he'd been "acting crazy". And later on he never blamed Roy for what happened (that I remember at least) !

Wally had to hear the story, but he unanimously decided that it was the Titans' fault and that they were the ones who'd made Dick feel unwelcome (not entirely false, but certainly not the whole story), that they "ousted" him.

My guess is that this is partly because Wally has boundless faith in Dick (seriously, every time you have Wally's inner monologue mentioning Dick it's like Wally's talking about a Superbat); partly because he can't imagine a world in which Dick would willingly give up on the Titans; partly because he was angry at how badly it affected Dick - and he was one of the first heroes to see Dick after he left.

The truly funny part is that while Dick forgave Roy pretty quickly, Wally held a grudge for weeks if not months after. And as you can see, he moved on from seeing this as the Titans' fault to considering it was Roy's.

Usually, Roy and Wally are close friends, and they have a bond that exists outside of Dick, though ironically it's been partly built on not wanting to be bossed around by him. They share many personality traits : they have a carefree exterior, they're pretty easy-going, both can be show-offs, before Wally met Linda he was quite the playboy (though never as much as Roy)...

All of that went through the window (though fortunately not forever) when Wally decided it was Roy's fault Dick wasn't with the Titans anymore (and when you know Roy wanted Dick to come back later and practically begged him to stay it's almost sad). He wasn't Wally's friend anymore, he was "the guy who kicked [his] best friend off the team".

Yeah. Wally decided to have beef with Roy on Dick's behalf when Dick wasn't even angry at Roy and hadn't been for a long time.

If Dick and Roy ever had a huge falling-out, Dick's definitely getting Wally in the divorce.

[foureyedfella]

☆ I keep telling myself to leave time between posts but I get too jittery I wanna post everything all at once❗❗

☆ Here's a family photo of sorts of the Ryans!

☆ I can go on and on about headcanons but for now I'll leave this as is

☆ What I will do is sprinkle some dynamics between Aran and the rest of his family:

Alannah- seeing as she is the oldest, she is on his ass frequently 😭 when Aran was younger (12-15) he hated her, feeling that they both equally did stuff to contribute in the house but was patronized- he felt like his labor was overlooked by her and it pissed him off. By 16 his heart ripened a little bit and all it took was her helping him with a life threatening fever!! Wow awesome Aran!

Nora- closest sibling, that middle child bond runs between them HEAVY- she leeches onto him, to the pure anger of their dad, and tends to imitate him, for better or for worse 💀 while Aran is usually not even able to see his sisters all too often due to his job and his at home duties, when he can it will usually be with Nora.

Fiona- Aran is pretty protective of her, but she also gets under his skin. She is pretty much "daddy's girl" in the family, so she can and will snitch on Aran if need be. With that said, he can never truly be mad at her, she doesn't even know the true consequences that Aran gets from the snitching she just a baby. Aran will get the lights knocked out of him because of her but will still sneak her a cookie past her bedtime.

Kiera- has literally seen her like 5 times since she was born. Never has time to see her, since by 12 Aran was already given the house work and was working a job by 15. When he does see her, they just look at eachother like fish out of water.

Evelyn- despite the tough demeanor he wants to display, he is a big mama's boy. Aran was never a well behaved kid, but she always seemed to have patience with him when she was able to, and that in of itself was reassuring to Aran. Aran is only willing to help around in the way that he did because he knew it would lift a burden from his mom, who usually had to tend to her kids. He often felt himself keeping secrets from her because he didnt wanna hurt her. While he doesnt outright say it Aran loves his mom a whole lot and was pretty clingy when he was younger- when he got older, he would distance himself from her believing that the way he was would hurt her emotionally, especially when he would lash out during arguments.

Sullivan- ❗CW: verbal/ physical abuse❗ where do I begin 😭 Aran believes that his dad has a genuine grudge for him and him only, feeling that he is the only one in the house that gets punished for seemingly nothing (not that he wants his siblings to get the treatment he does, it just fuels his grudge theory). He is always at work, apparently. When he is home, it's to argue as to why Aran hadn't gotten anything done, why he is the way he is, and pretty much anything he could ramble on. There wasnt a discussion Aran had with his dad that didnt end in a screaming match, or if not, a physical altercation. He was often physically abusive too, instinctually hitting Aran with whatever was in his hands, or just his fist, when the argument occurs, usually doing field work. If it wasnt clear Aran hates this guy

☆Overall, the family became unintentionally neglectful of him, it kind of became easy to not think about someone as often when they're barely home, and with so much already happening in the house this made it even easier to forget about him

☆the reason the ages are dated so far back is because the last time Aran would see them all is when he is 17 years old, as he left the house to persue his boxing career in NY.

☆He still cares for his ma and sisters, he sends a real chunk of his paychecks to them, but cant bring himself to go back to Dublin, as he feels like he abandoned his family (Only Soda knows about this though, token drinking friend has all the knowledge)

☆sorry for the yap fest 😭 I got doodles

[elvhenquyen]

Datv spoilers ahead

Controversial take but I love the lich emmrich route potentially even more than the Manfred one.

I feel like people vilifying the lich emmrich route don’t quite understand what being a mourn watcher is (supposed to be) like. It is a completely different mindset surrounding death. I can see how people who don’t have this mindset would be put off by the lichdom route however. Maybe I can empathize with Emmrich on this aspect better because irl I am a mortuary student, so just like the mourn watchers, I too must make peace with others passing through death. It is not that they are ever truly gone, just a different existence. A beginning into something new.

That’s why it was so easy for me to choose the lich route - the inconsolable gnawing fear of death, I have felt it. Perhaps others hear his words but have not felt them. And let me tell you if there was a way to overcome that I would do anything. And to have spent his whole life working so hard to achieve his lichdom, I feel people overlook this too easily. Because yay skeleton son-

The Manfred ending does help emmrich overcome his fear of death and mortality but I believe the lich route does as well, maybe even more so. He not only goes through death during the lichdom rite, essentially overcoming his fear because remember- he knows the rite may not work. He knows he may truly die. But he does it anyway and is able to achieve his life’s dream - all while he has Rook by his side. He wants to protect the necropolis forever and I can’t think of anyone better suited. And MW rook could technically grow up to also become a lich, so that takes care of having to mourn rook. (Making peace with others passing through death does not mean not mourning them)

And while I love the happy family Manfred ending, I can’t help but feel it does some disservice to emmrich’s priorities. It feels like a big jump to abandon his life’s work and immortality for a wisp when he could potentially adopt another wisp later on in the lich route. It would not be Manfred of course, but watchers make peace with death. I’m genuinely sorry if this seems harsh at all, I do not mean it that way, I love Manfred and the Manfred route. But I believe the “making peace with others passing through death” aspect is overlooked by many.

I do find it endearing during his Manfred route that he says “I do have some regrets for what lichdom may have been … but I would not trade this for anything”. That scene was very touching, I just personally find it a bit unbelievable. His regret was palpable in that first sentence. I believe his regrets would only get worse with time and it would be hard for him not to think about it. Even though he’d have Manfred, he’d still have his fear of death (“sleepless nights .. in sunlit streets” it hits him unexpectedly, he says). His inconsolable gnawing fear would not disappear with age, I believe it would only worsen. This is mostly speculation on my part so take it with a grain of salt.

The only way I can wrap my mind around the Manfred route happening is if suddenly Emmrich’s priorities did change and he potentially cares a bit less about the watcher oaths and whatnot. And is also okay with giving up what he’s worked towards his entire life. And if he’s okay with feeling the inconsolable gnawing fear of death forever. And not caring about protecting the necropolis beyond his years anymore. Then yeah it works!

Bonus: you get to say i love you to emmrich twice if you do the lich route, plus an extra lil kiss

(That being said if I could remake the game I’d probably want the lichdom route to be a bit darker - maybe explore necromancy a bit more. If we’re gonna vilify the lich route let’s actually make it dark pls lol because currently it isn’t )