#she finds out they’re gonna be separated and she raises them in secret

[nothing-but-flowers88]

Balance

[beababoobies]

Oh my stars so I saw your post for Hazbin hotel requests can I PLEASE get a reader w Sir Pentious who is low-key jealous of his crush on cherry but he ends up getting w reader in the end?

I would love you forever 🙏

yurp, I gotchu. I love cherpentious with my entire heart but anything for y’all 🫡

edit : THERE IS NOW A PART TWO!

Somethin’ Stupid - Sir Pentious

words : 1.77k, slight warning for ep 6 stuffs

God, this fucking sucked. 

Cherri, who was - and you don’t mean to be direct, or self-loathing - downright fucking gorgeous, had been bribed to take you all out to a bar - well no, that wasn’t the exact instructions, but it was clear enough that Charlie didn’t expect much more from her. So here you were, slouched back on a vodka-stained couch in the corner of this bar, Husk lounging beside you while Nifty giggled and played with his fur, and your oh so beloved Sir Pentious across from you. 

You kicked back another shot of whatever Angel had brought to you, pretending to find whatever Husk had just said funny (you were far too caught up in the way Sir Pentious was goo goo eyeing a certain Cherri Bomb.) and Husk spoke up, eyebrows furrowed. 

“What’s up your ass today, kid?” He said flatly with a swig of his beer, raising one of his eyebrows as you finally snapped your attention back to him, trying to smile non-chalantly as you watched your beloved little drunken ball of insecurity slither towards Cherri again from the corner of your eye. “ ‘ts nuthin, Husk. Leave it.” You say with an annoyed sigh as you watch Pentious stumble over his words to an annoyed and unimpressed Cherri. 

“- I’M HAVING SSSSEX WITH EVERYONE HERE!” He turns around and yells, which has both Nifty, Angel, and Husk snap their heads around with wide eyes. He gives you a sad look and you try to give him a reassuring one. That is until he gets dragged into a separate room, and you inhale sharply through your teeth, wincing at the way he screams before the door is shut properly. Cherri doesn’t even look like she cares. 

“Ah.” Husk says flatly, catching your attention again. “Should’ve guessed after your fuckin’ ramble last night. ‘But Husk he doesn’t even know I’m here!’ and all those fuckin’ ‘I’ve been here longer than he has and he won’t even talk to me!‘s. he’s just nervous around you, like he is with Cherri. Fucker has some self-confidence issues. Just do it already.” He says, looking almost annoyed as you flushed deep and slapped your hand over his mouth, which he quickly swatted away. 

“Shh! Jesus fucking Christ Husk, not so loud! Fuck!” You grumble as Angel giggles with a hand over his mouth from the other end of the booth, before taking another small sip of his cocktail. “Not a secret, toots.” He says with his casually shit-eating grin, gesturing to a very drunk Nifty who was giggling now too, nodding her head. Great. 

“Sometimes, when I’m out killing the bugs that think they’re all sneaky, and gross and cool at night, I walk past your room and you’re listening to super bad romance music. Which scares the bugs away and makes them surrender their lives. Which like, it’s supposed to be a fight! You’re ruining all the fun… ” She adds the last part with a annoyed grumble, but despite her unbelievably drunken state, she’s still speaking fast, high-pitched, and with the exact same creepy undertones. “And I walk past that bad boys room and he’s all rehearsing romance poetry he wrote. It’s so bad! Ehehe!” 

She giggles out, eyes falling on a bug on the floor, hopping quickly off of Husker’s head and falling face first onto the floor, before quickly picking herself back up and running after it. “Shit.” Angel groans, putting his cocktail down quickly and shuffling out of the booth. “I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t end up with some creep.” He grits out through his teeth, before disappearing into the crowd with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’d better help him out.” Husk says with a sigh as well as he placed his beer bottle down carefully, pulling himself up with a groan.

He turns back to you for a second, just looking over his shoulder, before smiling. “You should start considering the possibility of Cherri being a distraction.” He says, humming softly before he adds one last thing. “Please do check in on the awkward fucker though, I don’t know what kind of shit he’s got stuffed in him or is stuffing at the fuckin moment.” Husk says with a sigh, disappearing right into the ground of flashing lights and bumping bodies right after Angel. 

You took the last courage swig of your drink and stood up, doing a little tipsy stretch as you got up, before dejectedly walking over to where a very, very exhausted Sir Pentious was sitting, hyperventilating and sweaty. You let out a soft sigh as you walked over, kneeling in front of him and taking his hands away from his face, holding them softly in your hands, looking up at him with furrowed brows and concern.

“Hey Pentious, that was a lot wasn’t it?” You say softly and he nods, refusing to make eye contact with you. He looks grossed out, ashamed, everything. You let out a soft sigh and rub small circles into the back of his palm with your thumb, doing your best to comfort him in the loud and overstimulating bar scene. 

“They were very kind - I jusssst, kept ssssssaying yessss. I don’t know why.” He says softly, and you nod, standing up and helping him up too. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, ‘Kay? You can take a nice hot shower and go to bed.” You reassure quietly and he finally looks up from the ground, smiling at you quickly before nodding, but as soon as Angel catches his gaze again, he’s out of your grips and right back to focusing on Cherri. You grimace softly as you watch him rush up to angel and ask where Cherri is. You watch as he groans in defeat as she goes into another room with a random guy. 

Some part of you feels happy, relieved of some jealousy. Another part of you feels bad. That was all he was doing the entire night, trying to get her attention. You shook it off and walked over to where everyone had re-grouped, giving them a tired wave, and getting one in return. You let out a small gasp as you saw the dried blood from Angels’ nose all the way down or his lip, his new black eye. 

“Oh dear, what happened?” You cooed softly, reaching up to wipe some of the blood of his face, and he softly moved away, shaking his head in a polite ‘thank you, but not right now’ way, and you nodded. “It was just a run-in with Val.” He says with a sigh, wiping another fresh stream of blood from his other nostril onto the back of his hand. “Let’s get going - I’ll tell you when we’re back at the hotel, Toots.” 

An unceremonious end to the night; but not exactly the end to yours. Even when you got back, debriefing everything that happened with Husk and Angel while Nifty snored on the couch and Pentious took a shower, even when you had finally wished them a good night and made your bed, sighing as you let your head fall to your pillow, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened with him. What Husk had said. 

“You should start considering the possibility of Cherri being a distraction.”

You repeated it in your head for hours while you tried to think about anything else, scrolling on your phone aimlessly through Hellflix, InstaScam, Crime Video, even YouCrude - there was no one to e-stalk, no new shows for you to binge, not even something you wanted to re-watch. No new uploads from your faves - just an endless amount of scrolling. 

Until about 3 a.m.

That’s when you heard it - shaky, nearly silent sobs from Pentious’s room, small sniffles. You checked the time, sighed, threw a shitty pair of smiley-face PJ pants Charlie had made for you on, and slumped over to his bedroom, knocking softly on his door. It went dead silent, not a mouse, no the small clinking or squishing of Nifty’s bug-killing sewing needle. 

“Who issss it?” He said in a shaky, tired, raw voice, and your heart absolutely melted, hand against the doorknob as you spoke. “It’s me, Pentious. I just heard you - uh - being sad. I know I’m not your favourite, but can I come in?” You say with a soft sigh, running your fingers through your hair tiredly. It takes him a minute and a soft hiccup before he rasps out a small “pleasssse, y-yeah.” And you open the door.

What you find is absolutely heartbreaking. Your favourite little serpent, curled in on himself, hugging his tail to himself, eyes red with tears that fall softly down his face, hat resting on his old worn down dresser, angry and frustrated swipes if his claws leaving him on top of torn up bedsheets and pillows, and you nearly cry with him right then and there. This sweet man who has been nothing but a pure angel, stuck with all the sinners, including yourself, down here. 

You walked over to him, sitting beside him on his bed, hearing the old mattress frame squeak softly as you sat down, putting your hand on his, gently cooing him until he took big, deep breaths, gently and encouragingly rubbing circles back into the palm of his hand.

“Tell me, what’s up? I’m all -“ you start confidently, being cut off by an annoyed but desperate call from Pentious himself, pulling his hand away from yours and groaning into his palms, shaking his head. “that ISSSSS the problem! You’re the problem-  you’re so pretty I can’t think sssstraight around you! And now you think I hate you!” He cries out, looking at you with desperate eyes, like he wants you to say something - anything, really. But you really can’t.

You’re completely frozen, hand frozen in mid air when it was going to rest on his shoulder to comfort him, eyes wife, lips pierced together and all you can do is stare at him like some stupid idiot. You are at a mental battle of grabbing his face and kissing him until you can’t breathe or slowly talking it out. He sighs dejectedly.

“I want to get closssser to you. Wanted to be your friend, at leassst. But… then I’d go and ssssspoil it all by ssssaying ssssomething sssstupid like…” he stops for a second, swallowing thickly. “…I love you.” He looks up at you again, nearly desperate for an answer. You finally get some words out of your closed up throat -

“I love you.” 

~

Frank + Nancy Sinatra My Beloveds <;3

[musicalmoritz]

Ok ok I want you to think about swap terukane so like clock keeper Teru x exorcist Akane. And also like Akanes the super super popular school president. Yea so like thoughts/headcanons?? (I always cook up the most insane ideas in the middle of the night and I actually remember this one vaguely!)

Let’s talk about the Terukane swap au!! I’ve seen a few people write and draw for this but I’ve never rly read any of the fics or looked too much into it so I’m entirely making this shit up on my own, Ik this is a popular trope so I apologize if I miss any of the sub tropes that are included with it ;-;

It’s hard for me to separate Teru or Kou from exorcism since the Minamotos were a real life clan, but I don’t think I’d go about this in the “Akane is a Minamoto and Teru is an Aoi” way. I suppose for this au it’s most reasonable to say the Minamotos are a regular family and the Aois are the exorcist clan. That provides another fun question tho, are the Akane girls still kannagi?? Since this is strictly a Terukane swap au I’ll assume they are, though if we wanted to take it further we could swap Aoi with Nene or one of the other characters. It’s easier for me to follow strict guidelines tho so I’m gonna keep it at just Terukane being swapped

That alone changes so much of the story tho, it’s very interesting to me. We’ll say the Minamotos are still a strict/traditional family, so there’s still some pressure on Teru and Kou. Just not to the extent that there is in canon. And assuming their mom still died in due to complications from childbirth, their dad would still be absent and Teru and Kou will still have to grow up too soon by raising Tiara. But things would be significantly easier on them since they’d be taking care of the family together. Teru would learn basic life skills like cooking, which would take a load off of Kou. Then since the work would be split, they’d both have more free time on their hands. If one of them wants to hang out with friends, the other can take over cooking and cleaning for the night. Tho that would lead to numerous sibling arguments, since Teru is the oldest he’d probably push Kou around a bit when they’re younger lol. He’d run that house like the military

I want to say Kou is the one the Clock Keepers threaten him with since Teru is so protective of him, but that wouldn’t rly work since they wouldn’t be at school together during Teru’s first year of junior high. As an oldest sibling, Teru is very protective by nature, so they might be able to choose any random student. Once they have him where they want him, they throw in some threats aimed at his siblings to secure their chances of making a contract. So Teru ends up going down the same self-sacrificial route we see in canon, he becomes a Clock Keeper so that no one else has to do it

Without any siblings, Akane is the soul beholder of the family legacy. Self-sacrifice isn’t even an option for him, he’s the only one who can succeed his parents so he must do it. Then there’s Aoi, his childhood best friend. If Akane were an exorcist and they grew up together, Aoi would find out about supernaturals way sooner. Maybe he tells her himself, because he can no longer carry the burden alone. And he knows she’s a kannagi, that something bad could happen to her someday if he doesn’t keep a close eye on her, so he has to watch her like a hawk. In this au there’s not as many secrets between them, so much is at stake so they have to be transparent with each other. Akane’s honesty inspires Aoi to be more honest with him as well. So the obsession between them, platonic or otherwise, is a lot more mutual. They developed sort of a trauma bond at an early age and now they have to look out for each other

Akane’s popularity comes from his natural inclination to help others. He’s such a kind person, even if he can be aggressive. And without him having to constantly chase Aoi, no one thinks he’s a weirdo. It’s a little odd that he’s so protective of his friend, but he’s so damn nice that everyone just shrugs it off as him being sweet. Teru though? Teru is the weirdo

His family is still strict but without the same expectations placed on him, there’s no need for him to try and excel at everything. No one cares if he’s the best student so he can do whatever he wants. And yeah, he’s pretty, but he’s also loud and annoying. He teases people and gets creepily sadistic at times. This ties into my audhd Minamotos headcanon, without the pressure he’s under in canon, Teru feels less of a need to mask. He still does it to some extent due to societal pressure and all but the only opinion he really cares about are those of his siblings, so he’s content to be himself. He makes a few friends this way too, he’s not exactly popular but the people who get him get him. I’m gonna make him friends with Nene in this au, she appreciates his realness

Because of Akane’s hatred for supernaturals, they don’t get along at first. Teru joins the Student Council to keep a better eye on everyone so he can do better at his job as a Clock Keeper. Kou attending Kamome and getting closer with supernaturals has a lot to do with it. When they first meet, Akane ties Teru up and tries to interrogate him but bcuz this is Less Traumatized Teru it goes way differently than he planned. Teru’s filter is nonexistent so when Akane tries to threaten him he’s just like “oh hello cute boy I like you very much.” But the thing is, Akane can’t tell if Teru is joking or not. He assumes he must be, because there’s no way a School Mystery feels things like love and crushes. Still, Teru is so painfully Just A Regular Dude that Akane is forced to see him differently. Cue the typical Terukane “relationship built on trust” shenanigans. Reluctant partners in crime and what not

I’m not gonna go as far as to say they have a Sakura and Natsuhiko type dynamic but it’s similar. The classic “are you flirting with me?” “have been for the past 10 years, thanks for noticing” meme. Think of it as all of Teru’s jokes about liking Aoi in canon if they were directly aimed at Akane instead. Then the “wait- do you have genuine feelings for Ao-chan?” scene becomes “do you have genuine feelings for me?” or “were you serious this whole time?” Their dynamic changes a lot after that. Akane starts flirting back, and instead of using Aoi to motivate Teru he uses himself. “Help me save her and I might take you up on that offer for a date.” And then they do go on a date, at the school festival right before everything turns to shit

Adding to that, in this au I imagine Aoi and Akane are the ones betrothed in the new timeline. This brings in conflict bcuz let’s say Akane used to have feelings for Aoi but those faded over time, it’s all platonic between them now as opposed to what we see in canon. So he has the opportunity to either be with the girl he used to love, the girl he’s been with all his life, his safety blanket…or go back to the boy who’s stolen his heart. Damn that was cheesy, I’m cooking here

Kako also becomes Teru’s father figure btw bcuz he needs one. And despite his dislike for supernaturals, Teru adores Mirai bcuz she reminds him of Tiara. Found family ftw

Thanks for the ask, I hadn’t thought much abt this au before but now I’ve gotten myself invested

[callsign-rogueone]

The thoughts are thought-ing after "glad it was you" oh.my.god. why are they so cute??? So so many thoughts. Are they now legally married? What about the twins? Do they like Bodhi? Do they all reunite in Aretia? If they got married, did they do it in secret? Who was there? Was that their first kiss?

SO.MANY. THOUGHTS

I love this reaction and it made me so happy that I shed two (2) tears. thank you for sharing ur thoughts!! let me attempt to answer some of those questions (and leave you with more questions… hehe) 💗🌷

why are they so cute???

I know this one is likely rhetorical, but because they’re shy little babies with zero relationship experience who have been raised to be quiet and respectful and polite, and are both still trying to feel out what the other person thinks of this whole arrangement and not overstep any boundaries. that’ll continue for a little while, until they get to know each other better. but even then they’ll still be cute because it’s Bodhi, and he’s the cutest ever, and is gonna be deeply in love with her (bold to say he isn’t already) and because Darling is so sweet.

Are they now legally married? Who was there?

yes, they are legally married in the eyes of the Tyrrish government and Navarre. she did not change her last name (all that paperwork is low priority in the middle of a war) so for all intents and purposes she is still a Laurent. maybe someday she’ll be a Durran. their kids will be, at least. 

there was no ceremony, no vows, no "wedding night"... the contract was signed and submitted and approved and that was it. I imagine that their parents had to sign it as well, since they were underage.

she brought her family’s copy to Basgiath, for a multitude of reasons: to have one last bit of her parents’ handwriting, to keep it safe in emergency / etc as one does with important paperwork, but also as a way to make sure she and Bo wouldn’t be separated after graduation (I think that they would try to keep spouses together, such as Vi’s parents.)

If they got married, did they do it in secret?

yeah, the whole thing is kindof a secret. the rebellion kids know, and Brennan and Duchess and the assembly etc, but Bo and Darling don’t really talk about it. the rest of their classmates just believe that they’re long-term BF/GF, and they’re content to keep it that way — none of their other classmates are married and it would just be awkward to tell people. eventually Dain and Violet will find out, and I’ll give you both of those conversations! they’re already written hehe 

Was that their first kiss?

as of where we left them in “glad it was you”, they haven’t kissed yet. they shook hands in the garden at her parents house when they met (without gloves, so scandalous!) and then he held her during the executions / in the aftermath while the four of them cried. maybe some handshakes or her holding his arm on a walk, etc., that happened in between, but that’s it in terms of physical contact. more to come though… we shouldn’t forget that he was the one who taught her to fight. and I also wrote some of the pillow talk after their first time the other day… 

I have at least two more pre-Basgiath chapters planned for them, that will have them getting to know each other, and Darling meeting the rest of the gang. that’ll be fun for everyone involved and not awkward at all! (sarcasm.)

What about the twins? Do they like Bodhi?

I haven’t settled on the twins’ ages, but they’re considerably younger than Darling. she’s 17 at the time of the revolution, but they’re like… 8-10? I also haven’t named them, because I struggle with picking names, and idk if people would want to imagine their own siblings in that role?? I’m the baby of the family, and basically an only child these days. I don’t know these things.

anyway yes they’ll love Bo. they don’t fully understand why he’s here all of a sudden, but he passed the vibe check during his few interactions with them before everything crumbled around them (which I haven’t written, and probably won’t), but he’s kind to them, and to darling, who is the center of their universe and their most favoritest person, so he’s approved! and they were willing to lean on him in their grief — he’s a safe person for them all 🥺

Do they all reunite in Aretia?

yes!! I have this planned for sure, 100% happening. Darling feels a lot of guilt for leaving them behind when she goes to Basgiath (I’m still working out their living arrangement there…) and she writes as early and as often as she can. so naturally when she comes back to Riorson house at the end of her second year after Resson, she’s dipping for a day to go see them while everyone else recovers, and they get to meet Sìoda!! and then again in IF when everyone moves into Riorson house, she’s leaving Love in charge for a day and going to see her bbs. they’re all grown up by then 🥺

their future remains unclear — they’re marked, but they might not have to go to Basgiath by the time that they turn 20 if the “second revolution” is successful. we’ll see how that goes. they don’t really have personalities or anything yet… they kinda just exist as development for Darling, oops. but the twins might make a brief appearance in the Happily Ever After AU. somebody needs to hold all those perfect little babies that their sister and her husband are gonna have. 

some peekies:

“And now?” She asks softly. “What do you want to be?” You pause your stitching for a split second, not expecting the question. “That doesn’t matter now,” you say hastily, tying a small knot and snipping off the extra thread. “My fate has already been decided.”

-> poor girl has had everything decided for her. but you’re really going to get a dip into her psyche here (through Violet) and I love it!!! (you may remember that Vi is now her ward, lmao. darling is going to help smooth things over between X and V a little, and keep being the cool mom. and do we not all constantly imagine the lives that our mothers could have had without us and grieve on their behalf?)

“I’m only going to ask once,” he warns, a look in his eyes that Xaden has never seen before. “Where the fuck is my wife?”

-> it would be a disservice to everyone if I didn’t drop one of these in there somewhere. you're welcome (and I'm sorry).

okay that's it for now because if I don't restrain myself I will spoil absolutely everything! ily xoxo

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

Tag List(s):  (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

9-1-1 Taglist:

@julessbrown 

Julie and the Phantoms Taglist:

[dr-lizortecho]

One Line Any Fic

I was tagged by @crepuscularqueens thank you <3

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! then tag 10 people. (idk 10 people sorryyy im shy)

The Polar Bear King (Mr. Jones/Liz Ortecho)

Jones stirs under her, lifting her chin so he can look into her eyes. “We will go on together, darling,” his southern accent thick. “When this curse is over I will burn down this entire world to find them both and make that witch pay.”

If we’re made of stardust… (Max Evans/Liz Ortecho/Kyle Valenti, Isobel Evans/Rosa Ortecho, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes)

Max feels his stomach drop to the floor, something inside him reeling out and snapping back in. And sure enough Max Evans and Liz Ortecho are on Kyle’s arm, the lettering seeming to blend at the beginning like the M and L didn’t know to be separate letters.

Drunk on a Plane (Max Evans/Kyle Valenti)

 “They’re-“ Max freezes, words seeming to elude him all of the sudden. “They’re alien bonded. Like… linked permanently. A sort of…” he waves his hand, even with the small glass bottle. His muscles feel less tense, the space between their bodies only getting smaller as time goes on, most of the other passengers asleep. “It’s a psychic bond. Like… they’re alien married.”

Baby, I’ll Treat You Right (Liz Ortecho/Isobel Evans)

“Good?” She murmurs gently, reaching up to untie the silk from her wrists. The material sliding easily away as she discards it on to the bed’s end table.

a partner to ride with you when I can’t (Max Evans&Rosa Ortecho)

Rosa rolls her eyes, “look, chocolate chip, if your gonna make this choice, make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

The Allure of Darkness (Mr. Jones/Clyde)

“You’re a good follower,” Jones’s mind caresses his gently. It’s warm and familiar. A soft fondness to the quirk of Jones’s lips as he picks up the clear pad pressing it into Clyde’s hands.

the futures in the hand that you hold (Max Evans&Isobel Evans)

“I can hear his mind as well as any,” Isobel responds. Standing up and pulling Max with her. His face does the thing, lips pulling up at the edges until his face hurts, like the foreign action was attacking him. But it feels good, a warmth bubbling up in his chest.

Swing Life Away (Max Evans/Kyle Valenti, Liz Ortecho/Isobel Evans, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes)

Max gives him a weak smile, “you look ridiculous.” Because he did, with half a yellow handprint on the side of his face. A sort of mark from Max that wasn’t quite a claim to him as much as a reminder of his presence.

Forever is the sweetest con (Liz Ortecho/Michael Guerin)

“Not up to lab standards,” she says with a small smile. It’s one of those secret kinds, that speak of shared history and inside jokes. He hates the small thrill that sends through his body, the idea that spending the last month so close to her had bonded them in some way. Because he’d always craved connection, in one form or another.

Raise Your Glass (Bonnie Bennett/Caroline Forbes/Tyler Lockwood)

Bonnie wants to roll her eyes, maybe say something sassy, but instead she bites at her lip and nods. Which only makes him chuckle lightly, grabbing at her waist and pulling her body flush to him. Her heart skips in her chest, because this was Ty after all. They’d been friends as far back as she could remember. He’d literally pulled Caroline’s pig tails in elementary school.

no pressure tags @thesquidkid @ladynox @beautifulcheat @bisexualalienss @ravens-words @islndgurl777 and anyone else with fic who wants to consider yourself tagged by me!

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[rawdogmeharry]

will you write something about reader and harry having a 12 year age gap, but fans and everyone are really supportive of their healthy relationship? like they’re so in love. lots of fluff and maybe a tinge of smut? 🥺 love your writing 🥺🥰

old man

or, the one where Harry’s family loves Y/N and he loves her even more.

]part 2: old bones]

sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy babe <3 and thank you very much, that’s lovely to hear!!

requests go here:)

masterlist

•

“What d‘ya say, baby, red or white wine?“ Harry ponders, leaning one hip against the kitchen counter and holding up the two dark glass bottles in his hands, showing them to Y/N.

“I dunno, I‘d say red but Anne‘s not really a fan of it, so let‘s just take the white,“ she shrugs her shoulders, little animated hearts dancing around in her eyes from watching Harry look so fucking effortlesly hot for no damn reason. His sheer button-up that shows his vast collection of body ink and the way his black jeans fit snugly on his juicy thighs are the reasons her panties are drenched inside out.

Little does she know, he‘s thinking the exact same thing.

She stands in the kitchen doorway, dressed in a tight, sand colored turtleneck, black bell bottomed pants and the pointed-toe nude Louboutin heels Harry had gotten her for her last birthday, looking like Harry‘s next meal. All he wants to do, is take those pants, shove them down to her thighs, bend her over their glass dining table and bury his face in her cunt and ass.

But, they‘ve got places to be and people to see at the Styles-Twist family gathering.

Dead puppies, grandma boobs, cow udders is all that circles his head because nothing else can bring his boner down.

“Hey, where‘d you go?“ Y/N waves her hand in his face, seeing his spaced out face and eyes weirdly zoned in on her tits.

“Huh?“

“Y‘zoned out on me, Har, y‘okay?“ she slowly walks towards him with her brows furrowed, her heels making a really satisfying noise on the gray kitchen tiles.

“Oh, yeah, ‘m fine, kitty, just thinking ‘bout how pretty y‘are,“ he grins and tugs her in close by her love handles, then gradually migrates his hands down to her ass and gives it a firm squeeze once she‘s fully enclosed in his arms. And about how hard I want to fuck you, you fucking Goddess, he thinks to himself.

“Let‘s go then, bub, don‘ wanna be late. Been a while since we last saw your mum, I‘ve missed her,“ she smiles up at him. “And, wanna get home as soon as possible as well, also been a while since we used those handcuffs, huh?“

Harry watches as she bites her bottom lip and feels her dainty hands stroking up and down his back, and just as he‘s about to ram her against the wall to spank her and remind her how daddy doesn‘t like to be teased like that, she quickly slips out of his embrace and spanks his firm bum, telling him “let‘s go, Har“ and giving him a pointed look as if to silently tell him that she knows exactly what he‘s thinking.

‘‘‘

“Oh, yeah, since ‘m on winter break right now, me ‘n Harry started re-watching Friends, but my old man can barely keep his eyes open past 11, so it‘s been goin‘ really slowly,“ Y/N giggles, and that‘s the only part of the conversation Harry hears as he‘s approaching his lovie and Gemma, the two of them talking alone on the outside bench of Anne‘s back garden.

He feels finally free after hearing his uncle talk about the new corn he‘s been growing and how the high fiber content has really helped with his digestion for the past half an hour, and all he wants to do is throw Y/N over his shoulder, go home and fuck the ever living shit out of her. Maybe they won‘t even make it inside the house, he thinks, maybe he‘ll just take her in the car in the driveway.

“Hey, is the old man you‘re talkin‘ about supposed to be me?“ he pretends to be offended with raised brows and mouth open in mock offense, throwing his arm around his lovie‘s shoulders and leaning against the side of the bench in a hunched over sitting position with his bum right at the edge.

“Well, I don‘ really have any other old men watchin‘ Friends with me,“ she shrugs, her eyes regaining the light they get whenever Harry‘s around.

“Better not,“ he says in a stern tone, expression softening once again as he feels her hand on his thigh, rubbing softly in reassurance.

Then, he hears someone else giggle beside his baby, completely forgetting that Gemma‘s been sitting beside Y/N, because all he sees, knows and breathes is Y/N.

“You guys are so cute,“ Gemma giggles again and Harry notices just how tipsy his sister is from the sparkly look in her eyes, no doubt from the delicious wine set out on Anne‘s kitchen island. “Can I tell you a secret?“

“Go ‘head, Gem,“ he chuckles, brushing his fingers through lovie‘s soft hair, “jus‘ don‘ be mad at me if y‘gonna be embarassed by it for the rest of y‘life.“

“Oh, shut up,“ Gemma rolls her eyes, “I may be drunk, but ‘m not stupid, it‘s nothin‘ embarassing. Jus‘ wanted to tell you both how glad I am you two ended up together.“

“We‘re glad too, Gem, thank you,“ Y/N smiles at her, a fond look taking over her face from the realisation at how lucky she got with her sister-in-law. Or actually, Harry‘s whole family, really, and she feels beyond grateful for how accepted and loved she feels in it.

“No, like, ‘m sayin‘ just-just how grateful I am my brother ended up with someone so amazing, so understanding and just—overall such a great person. Really, at first, me ‘n mum were a bit skeptical because of—you know—the pretty big twelve year age difference and all, and Y/N bein‘ only eighteen when y‘met. But over time when we got to know you, you‘re mature beyond your years and I wouldn‘t wish Harry any other person. ‘M really glad that all the negative comments, looks and hate y‘both got at the start of your relationship didn‘t break you up or put any tiffs between you. Y‘gained the fans‘ trust, didn‘t let them overwhelm you. Just proves that no hardships can separate you‘s, you‘re meant to be.“

And Y/N‘s got tears in her eyes at the end of Gemma‘s mini speech, because she couldn‘t imagine hearing nicer words from her boyfriends family. If everyone genuinely thinks all of this about her, she‘s quite literally the luckiest person in the world.

Harry watches as Y/N doesn‘t hesitate to give Gemma a big, fat hug once she‘s done talking and all he thinks is how right Gemma is.

How right she is by saying that Y/N is the most fucking amazing thing to ever happen to him, how nothing can separate them and how they‘re meant to be. That‘s all  Harry thinks about all day every day, and to think that his sister and probably the rest of his family have the same outlook on their relationship is like putting in the last missing piece of the puzzle.

Y/N pulls away from the hug and subtly wipes at her undereyes, “thank you, Gem. I just-I don‘ really know what else t‘say except thank y‘so much.“

“No, but seriously,“ Gemma grins at the next part she‘s about to say, “jus‘ the other day me and mum were talkin‘ about the adorable little buggers you‘d make with your good genes and all an-“

“Okay, Gem,“ Harry chuckles and takes the almost empty wine glass from her hand, “thank y‘for the kind words, but tha‘s all for tonight, I think.“

Gemma pouts, “hey, why‘d y‘take my wine?“

“C‘mon, let‘s go find Michal, he‘ll know what t‘do with ya,“ Harry smiles at his sister and helps her up from the bench and watches as she uncoordinately trots towards the door, heading inside of the warm house where the rest of his family are chatting away amongst eachother.

He stays behind and quickly leans down to whisper in Y/N‘s ear, gripping her thighs in both of his hands, “bathroom upstairs. In five minutes. Daddy doesn‘t like to wait.“ And walks away, catching up to his sister and leads her away to her boyfriend. He wants her, and he wants her now, because he physically cannot contain all of the love and absolute appreciation he has for her inside of him any longer.

Y/N just sits there with clenched thighs and an irregularly beating heart.

‘‘‘

“Fuck,“ Harry pants against his lovie‘s neck, keeping her hands pinned to the wall above her head by her wrists, “how are you this fucking beautiful, huh?“

“Fuck, please do something, Har,“ she mewls into his ear, desperately wanting to grind against something and longing to feel his cock lodged deep into her pussy.

“That‘s not my name,“ Harry growls and grips her wrists tighter.

“Daddy. Daddy, please fuck me, just-please, do something.“

“God, bunny, y‘drivin‘ me crazy. Can‘t fuck you here, don‘t want m‘family t‘hear you screamin‘ fo‘ daddy to fuck y‘ass harder. Gonna make it home, first. Or halfway.“ He grinds against one of her thighs and his cock is leaking so much precome he‘s sure there‘s gonna be a wet stain on his dark jeans once they get out of this Goddamn bathroom.

“Just stop talking, Daddy,“ she pants out, not really caring for the consequences of talking back to daddy at this exact moment and slots her lips to his own, immediately sucking his tongue into her mouth.

And Harry thinks he‘s gonna let her off for this one, because they both need it so much that the bloody rules daddy made can fuck right off through the window.

He moans into her mouth and takes his tongue out of it, quickly pulling back and looking into her eyes, “put your hand into your panties and feel how wet y‘are for me.“ And let‘s go of her wrists.

She does as she‘s told, feeling so fucking thankful for the small amount of friction she gets from her fingers quickly brushing on her clit as she passes it to her weeping hole and rubs her her pointer finger at the entrance of it.

Taking her hand out of her pants, she shows Harry her shiny, slick fingers coated in her juices.

“Suck on them like you‘d suck my cock.“ He rasps out with his hands put on either side of her head.

She takes them into her mouth and moans at her own mouth-watering taste, sucking her fingers to the back of her throat and gagging on them like she‘d gag on Harry‘s cock.

Harry moans out from the filthy sight and locks their lips together for a final time, “five minutes to say goodbye t‘everyone and then I want y‘in the front seat of m‘car with your pants in the back.“

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hey gurl ❤️ so finally coming through with my request for this wonderful event! I’ve got gangleader!Toji on my brain because I’m a good girl with a taste for them bad boys, so henceforth my request:

Toji x Feamale!reader + cooking + 27,29

Can’t wait to see what spicy content you dish out 😊

OOOOH LAWD HA MERTHY

LAWD

OH LAAAAWWWDDDD

(P.S. I love you, mamas)

Lemonade: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.4k

tw: NSFW (ten layers of spicy dip coming up)

700 Follower Event Masterlist

You're sitting in the casino, watching over your patrons (or cash cows, you called them) with a careful eye as they mill about, bringing in money for the operating costs and illegal activities you and your gang committed. But all of this is off the books. The only thing someone could catch you for would be the imbalance of two hundred dollars on the books.

And that two hundred dollars went to the shoes you purchased for tonight.

Because just as this was a normal night for the patrons below you, it was a special night for you and your clan members. You'd finally be able to say you met with the head of the Fushiguro clan on your turf, and all without a single fight.

This is something your father, his father, and his father's father couldn't achieve without bloodshed. But you had something they didn't: a massive ring of businesses with their hands in every aspect of the Fushiguro clan. All you needed to do was squeeze a little harder, and the juice would run out of the lemon.

And tonight, you'd stir the pot and make lemonade.

Your target walks through the door an hour later, his black t-shirt clinging to his form like saran wrap. You wonder if he wears anything else as he strides into the casino with a smug smile, eyeing every single woman in the vicinity with a lewd expression. When Toji finally looks up at you, his emerald eyes become hooded, and he raises two fingers and makes an obscene gesture at you.

Keep your cool.

You answer the gesture with a bored blink as if to say: "You wish you could", and walk away from your place on the balcony and to the meeting hall where two men slide the doors open.

"Nah, she can't resist me," you hear Toji call out as he climbs the stairs. "Definitely fuckable." His associates laugh, clutching at their bellies, and Toji turns to you, holding his buff arm out. "Y/n, you look lovely tonight." You clasp his forearm, a typical greeting among the heads of clans.

"You look... normal," you reply. Toji rolls his eyes and pulls his arm away, walking into the meeting room. His associates try to walk into the room behind him, but they're stopped by your bodyguards and pointed to the other side of the balcony.

"Only the clan heads are allowed in here." You close the sliding doors behind you, then feel the presence of the clan leader, who's standing awfully close. Toji's hands ghost over your hips, and you step back, right into his grip.

"Y/n, you know these little dresses drive me insane," Fushiguro breathes against your neck, and you lean into his touch a little more, closing your eyes. "God, I want to fuck a baby into you so bad. Maybe then your family will allow me to take you as my wife."

"Give me twenty-five percent of your profits from the art galleries," you exhale as Toji's mouth trails down your neck. "And sixteen percent of the overhead from your coke ring."

"That's it?" Toji wonders, pulling back. "That's all you want?"

"I mean, I could ask for fifty-five and--"

"No, no, no," Toji laughs, turning you around to face him. "I liked twenty-five and sixteen better." He lifts your legs around his waist and sits you on the marble table.

"Because if you marry me, it'll all be mine one day, anyways." Toji grunts low in his throat, licking a fat stripe up your neck and rolling your dress up around your thighs.

"Mrs. Fushiguro sounds good to me," he replies, sliding your thong down your legs and tangling his tongue with yours while he kisses you deeply. "But first, let me make you Mama Fushiguro."

"So eager," you tease, lying back on the table and pulling the dress over your head. "Why do you want me so bad, Toji?"

"Because out of all the people in the world... you’re the only one who knows who I truly am.” You raise your brow at this, biting your bottom lip. "You know what drives me crazy," Toji continues, kissing down your thighs. "You know what makes me harder than stone..." His rough hands come up to pull off your shoes as he kisses your ankles leisurely. "And you push me to be a better version of myself... for you, of course."

"Not for your men?" you wonder, and the clan head chuckles, discarding his shirt and showing off his vast array of tattoos.

"Fuck, no." Your bra is removed with a swiftness, his fingers finding the clasp quickly and tossing it aside. "Just for you." He kisses each of your breasts, tugging on the nipples carefully. As Toji rolls them between his fingers, he plants a sloppy peck on your cheek, and you clasp your hands around his back. "When you came along, my pockets got fatter."

"Like now?" you laugh.

"Like now." You feel his cockhead poke at your entrance, and you spread your legs a little more, allowing him to stretch you out like only he can. You both exhale softly when he sinks into you, and you secretly hope the loud music outside would muffle any noises coming from your throat. "I swear, you have me wrapped around your little finger."

"Not gambling?" you pant as he sheathes himself inside of you fully. His emerald eyes soften, and his lips part, separating the scar at the edge of them. You touch it, reminding yourself of the day he got it, but Toji pulls back a little, an instinctive thing.

"Why would you ever think gambling really held me like you do?" he wonders, sinking back into you.

"I don't know..."

"I don't either," he blinks, face turning from a frown and into a focused expression. "Nothing comes before you, not even the clan." Toji's hips begin to beat a pleasurable pattern into yours, the huffing and panting between you two the only sounds you can really hear besides the muffled music of the casino.

And as you lay on the cool table, Toji maintains eye contact, lacing his fingers through yours and laying on top of you, rocking your hips a little higher so he can hit your g-spot. You cry out and shift back, but he covers your mouth quickly, holding you even closer as his hand cradles the place right above your hip.

"Don't run from me," he whispers into your ear. "Don't run from the dick." You moan into his palm, clenching your cunt around his thick cock and bucking your hips up a little. "That's it... take it." You shudder at his words, feeling the familiar build of an orgasm.

"Toji," you whisper, eyes widening. "I'm gonna cum."

"Not yet," he groans, sweat rolling down his brow. Your body shakes as he begins to plow into you, rattling the table so bad that the dragon figurines clatter to the ground, making two loud thumps.

Your head immediately turns to the door and it slides open a bit as a bodyguard pokes his head in, not fully registering the sight in front of him as he speaks.

"Boss, are you--"

"Get the fuck out!" Toji snarls, covering you and scowling at the man, who immediately shuts the door. But your orgasm hasn't abated even in the slightest during the incident, and you lean your head back, body rolling under Toji as you cum on his cock, mouth covered again as you moan obscenities. Toji isn't too far behind you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his fingers grip your thighs harshly. His hips stutter as he cums inside of you, growling fiercely and then abating when it's all said and done. "Guess our little secret is out," he finally whispers, nose touching yours as you cockwarm him.

"Hmmm..." you hum, trailing your knuckles down his cheek. "Think we should just tell everyone and get it over with?"

"Why not tonight?" he asks, softening inside of you slowly. "It would make sense."

"Yeah. You tell your men I'm getting a larger share of the business, and I'll tell mine."

"Wait," Toji shakes his black hair. "I thought you meant about our relationshi--"

"Not until I'm pregnant, remember?" you answer, and he slides out of you, fisting his semi-erect cock.

"Then I'd better get to it, huh? Flip over, boss lady. I'm not done with you yet."

[moonlit-imagines]

The Doctor Is In

Stephen Strange x reader

Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)

warnings:

a/n: hey! idk how to build stairs guys. i didnt feel like researching it. i dont care if it’s wrong. leave me alone. part 2/2.

prompt:

Out (1)

There was no hope of Stephen coming back. Every truth you had to face was harsher than the last. Even when you got home and realized that Wong was among the vanished...and he didn’t fix the stairwell.

Maybe the stairwell was a good thing. It gave you something to focus on in these hard times. Sure, it’d been a month since the incident, but that still wasn’t enough time for the world to heal. That meant that contractors were hard to come by. But the roof would have a tarp over it for some time. No way you’d deal with that.

So you took a trip to the hardware store, you stocked up on wood and nails, lacquer and wood stain. Anything else you needed for the project. Anything to keep you busy.

There were so many sleepless nights. You hated being alone in Sanctum, hated being alone in your bed. Every so often you would nap on the couch, but then you’d get right back to work. Weeks on end you spent on the stairwell. How long will you stick around while I talk about the stairwell?

Doctor Banner called you from time to time. His voicemails were kind, heartfelt, but you couldn’t stop now. The gutted stairwell from a couple weeks ago was coming by very nicely. As nice as it could when worked on my an amateur. Alright, it looked awful, but you couldn’t stand using a ladder to get to the second floor.

As you were staining the wood, you played a message from Bruce:

“Doctor L/N, it’s Bruce. I hope you’re doing alright, but you know that if you’re not, I’m here for you. All the remaining Avengers have kind of...gone their separate ways for the most part, they’re pretty broken up about everything. I just want you to know that because you don’t...have to be strong right now. I understand if you can’t be. Just call me back whenever you can? I want to make sure you’re alright. We’re survivors, we should stick together.”

Bruce hadn’t known you long, but he was still a great person and friend. You should call him back, but if you lost focus, you may lose yourself. So you continued to wipe against the grain of the fresh stairs and moved to the next step. And the next. And the next.

The last step was the lacquer and seal. You were scared to finish up. What would you occupy yourself with once this was over? You thought about the answer until the very last step and admired your shabby craftsmanship. It’ll do. Or maybe you should tear it all down and start over? While you were thinking over your newest thought, your phone rang again. Bruce Banner.

“Hey, Bruce.” You answered the phone as you normally would and sat on the floor in front of your work.

“Y/N?” Bruce asked in disbelief. “Y/N, hey! How are you? I don’t know if you’ve been getting my calls..?”

“I have.” You quickly replied.

“Oh.” He quietly nodded to himself.

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You realized your mistake and knew you may have come off as a little rude. He’d been nothing but kind to you, but you’d just realized you were alone today.

“No, no! It’s okay! I understand, don’t worry. What have you been up to?” His effort to start a conversation may be successful this time around.

“I fixed the stairwell. All of it. That’s what I’ve been doing the past few weeks. I just finished a few minutes ago.” You felt awkward talking to him. Not because of him, not at all. Just because you hadn’t really had any human contact in a while.

“I didn’t take you for a carpenter, Doctor.” Bruce was genuinely surprised with your skillset, you could hear it in his voice.

“And you still won’t once you see the job I did.” You actually managed to let out a chuckle. You didn’t know you could still do that.

“Oh, I hear ya loud and clear.” Bruce laughed, too. I wonder if he was having the same thoughts as you. “Y/N, do you want to go out to lunch like, now? I could use some company, maybe you could, too.”

“Yeah,” you checked the time on your watch, Stephen’s watch, and realized you worked through the night and day, “text me an address, I’ll meet you anywhere. See you soon.” You hung up pretty quickly, only to get ready ASAP. You were sort of covered in “stair supplies” and smelled like...not good. You’d take a quick shower, put on some clean clothes, and take off. Unfortunately, the stairs weren’t dry, so it was another round up the ladder.

—————

You finally took a trip back to your bedroom and shuffled through the closet filled with your...late husband’s clothing. It still smelled like him, surprisingly. You wondered just how long it would last. You hoped it’d be forever, but you grabbed your own clothes and quickly got dressed, then checked your phone to see that Bruce was running “a little late.” It’s okay, you were, too.

You took a seat on Stephen’s side of the bed and decided to snoop. Did it count as snooping if he was no longer here? You knew that he didn’t keep secrets from you, so what was the worst you could stumble upon? Books, books, and more books. But some were important books, ones detailing mystic arts. Maybe...maybe it was time to pick up a new skill. You stuffed the book in your bag and decided to head out now before you got too comfy in an actual bed.

—————

You and Bruce sat at a booth in the empty diner, awkwardly gazing over the menu while trying to stir up some conversation. It’d been a while since either of you had visited someone, you didn’t even know what to talk about.

“So, home renovations, huh?” Bruce asked while peaking over the fold of the laminated list.

“Something like that.” You sighed and set yours down and aside. “I know what I’m getting. What about you?”

“I just need a minute.” The only noise besides your bland conversation was the rustling of dishes in the back, which didn’t last for long. “Got it. A burger. That’ll do it.” Bruce announced and got the attention of the waiter.

Ordering took a second, but soon you and Bruce were alone again and ready to talk.

“How are the other Avengers? I know you said they went their separate ways, but...” You inquired and were surprised to see a smile crack on Bruce’s face. “What?”

“At least I know you listened to my voicemails.” He chuckled and took a sip of his iced tea. “They’re dealing with it. I don’t exactly know how. Nat’s staying at the compound, I’m sure she’s glad to have a home again. Cap went out on his own. Thor went back to his people. Tony and Pepper are trying to separate themselves from the world, I think. I don’t blame them. That’s all I know.” You stayed silent, but nodded along to his outer thoughts. “You alright?”

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You started. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, leave you hanging. I just still don’t know how to take this. I keep thinking about what Stark told me when he came back. His whole ‘this will all make sense soon’ thing. Nothing about this makes sense to me.”

“Well, Strange was different, wasn’t he? He had that Stone, he had those powers, he might know something we don’t.” Bruce explained to you, an attempt to comfort you. “We’ve tried everything, y/n. Maybe it’s time to wait, maybe in time you’ll see that he sacrificed himself...for you.” You teared up at the scientist’s words and quickly wiped your eyes as the food was placed before you. “Thank you, sir.” Bruce said as the waiter walked off. “Hey, y/n? It’s okay that you’re hurting. I get it. But please don’t act like you’re alone. I’m gonna be here for you, okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled while hiding your wet eyes, “Me, too, Bruce.”

—————

When you got stressed out when you were younger, you threw yourself into your studies. Maybe that was why you were such an accomplished scientist. But what studies did you have now?

You had a library full of knowledge. It wasn’t your usual knowledge, but it would suffice. Now, the book that you’d snagged from Stephen’s bedside was a bit advanced for you, but that was okay. You had options.

Where would you even begin? This place was bigger than you remembered. Was this another spell? Did you know what you were talking about? Stop thinking, y/n. Start reading.

You picked out a book. You just ran with it. You recalled stories from Stephen. You remembered you needed the ring. What did he call it? Song ring? Sink ring? Slink ring?

Sling ring.

Not a problem, you could find one. Sanctum probably had tons. Maybe in Stephen’s study? You wished you had asked him more about his arts before, you just didn’t get it at the time.

One was stashed in a drawer. It was Stephen’s ring. The one he used himself. And it was the only one you could find, so it’d have to do. And so you got to studying.

The first time the air sparked by your hand was magical. Literally. But it made you feel something for the first time in nearly three months. And that was just the beginning. It felt like you were carrying on Stephen’s legacy in a way. You’d never be “Sorcerer Supreme,” but you didn’t have any intention of that. You just wanted his memory to live on, even if it were through you.

So you’d practice and you’d learn and you’d practice and you’d learn. You’d see Bruce whenever you could, and he soon noticed your mood change.

“I’m glad to see you happy for a change.” He told you while you walked through the park.

“Yeah, it feels great.” You told him while watching construction vehicles cleaning up the debris that had been lying around for months.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s with the ring?” He looked at your hand and you lifted it closer.

“Oh...it’s Stephen’s.” You simply stated.

“Is it like a wedding ring?” He took a closer look and let you laugh it up for a quick second.

“No, no!” You shook your head at the ridiculous question. “I might as well show you. I haven’t told anyone yet, but that’s because you’re the only person I talk to.” You stopped in your tracks and shooed him back to give yourself enough space. “Ready?” Bruce looked terrified, but nodded a response and watched you raise your hands ahead, concentrating on the small portal you had began to open. Bruce recognized the opening since he’d fallen through it before.

“You’re one of the sorcerers?” Bruce’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I just started learning!” You exclaimed with a bright smile. “I needed something to get me through this all...and I wanted to protect Sanctum like Stephen and Wong had always stressed doing.”

“That’s...amazing, y/n. Self-taught magic? By a scientist, no less. Look at you go!” Bruce had a knack for being supportive. You were glad that he crashed through your roof and into your stairs.

“Thanks, Bruce. Maybe in time I’ll be able to cast a spell that fixes my roof.” You shrugged.

“Oh? Come on! I said I was sorry!”

—————

And then five years went by. Flew by, actually. You’d become a skilled sorcerer and used your skills around Sanctum. There wasn’t much to do here on Earth. It was a bit quiet.

Bruce was still a close friend of yours! You’d advised him in his quest for balance. He was no longer at war with himself.

The roof was fixed! You had Bruce spectate your very own spell to repair the damages he’d inflicted, but all was forgiven.

Then one normal day you got a call from him.

“Hey Bruce! How’s it going?” You answered, even though it interrupted your meditation.

“Can you meet me at the diner ASAP?” He sounded a little off, but still upbeat, so you opened a portal and stepped through to find yourself right out front. It was easy to spot him through the window, but there were others with him. Avengers.

“Hey, all.” You took a seat beside an unfamiliar one. “Hi, I’m y/n.” You told him as a plate of food was set in front of you.

“I ordered you your favorite. Hope you’re hungry.” Bruce smirked at you and let you get to it.

“So, it’s been a while, huh?” You asked the two Avengers across from you.

“It has.” Natasha sighed. “I wasn’t aware you were...also a sorcerer.” She began.

“I had a lot of free time.” Last they saw you, you weren’t as cool, calm, or collected. They were glad that you’d found peace. “I have a feeling this isn’t a social lunch.”

“I’m sorry to pull you from your calm, Doctor L/N—” You cut Steve off.

“Y/N is fine.” You replied.

“Scott here,” Steve motioned to the awkward man sitting alongside you, “was stuck in the Quantum Realm for some time, if you’re familiar. He thinks that there’s a way to...to undo what Thanos did.” You peered over at Bruce and watched him shrug as your heart started to beat faster and stomach started doing turns. You hated the thought of getting your hopes up, but you still dearly missed your husband.

“What can I do?”

—————

You had a hand in opening the dozens of portals around the ruins of the Avengers Compound, but you weren’t the only one. Stephen, Wong, and hundreds of other sorcerers were assisting to bring an army to combat the troops of an outdated Thanos, and you were so close to Stephen.

Using your magic to create a pathway to the sky, you leaped from step to step to get a clear look of the battlefield. And to let Stephen see you. He did. And so did the cloak.

You’d never used your powers to fight, so you’d have to step it up out here. But you knew Stephen wouldn’t let you get hurt. And you believed that you could handle this yourself.

“Y/N!” Stephen called to you as he flew to your altitude and held you in a special embrace that you’d nearly forgotten the feeling of. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Are you kidding me, Stephen?” You chuckled through tears that you just couldn’t hold in, tears that dragged through the dirt and dust on your face, clearing small lines down your cheeks. “I have missed you every day since the moment you left. I am so glad to have you back.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye, y/n. I truly am. But I knew that you would manage without me. You always have.” He explained to you in such a heartfelt way, admiring your capability to still be standing in the air.

“You knew I’d become a sorcerer, didn’t you?” You cocked a brow and watched him smirk.

“I had an inkling.” He joked with you as the firefight below was still rampaging.

“It’s very unprofessional of you to be talking to your s/o during times of crisis like this.” You chuckled and broke your spell to fall back to the ground, stopping yourself before it was too late in what could only be described as a “superhero landing.” Now that you were on the ground, assistance was required for your own side of the battle.

You and your fellow sorcerers had to defend more than anything. Shields popped up across the battlefield in an effort to keep your people alive. There were too many close calls and you wanted to survive long enough to go home with your husband.

“Y/N, over here!” Stephen beckoned you to the flood that would have made this fight much harder, and you were delighted to defend alongside him. The cloak rushed to you and gave you a fast track to the edge of the water, you couldn’t help but that it for it’s kind service. “Ready?”

“Of course.” You lifted your palms and motioned towards that water, redirecting it and keeping it at bay for the time being. “I love you, Stephen.” You remembered to tell him.

“I love you, too, y/n.” He replied with his focus still on the flood. “And I’m proud of you. So very proud.”

“Couldn’t have done it with you.” You joked and stabilized the rushing waters, giving you a true load-off before the end was clear. Dust passed through the sunken hole you all stood inside. Dust of your enemies that had finally lost. You and Stephen stared at each other in disbelief, yet couldn’t help but run into each other’s arms. “This is real? We won?”

“In a way.”

—————

Stephen and you dressed in all black were standing in the back yard of your savior. Tony had given his life to give others a life. You were just sorry that it had to be him.

Bruce stood alongside you with a long face and an injured arm. It was time for you to be there for him like he’d been there for you.

“Thanks for bringing back my husband, Bruce.” You whispered to him while holding Stephen’s hand tightly. Over the past few days, you just couldn’t seem to let go of him.

“Oh, yeah? That was nothing.” Bruce playfully answered through his sorrow.

“How’s your arm feeling?” You asked him, making sure the sling wasn’t twisted up an any way.

“Not the greatest, but I’ll be okay.” He assured you and watched as you leaned your head onto Stephen’s smile with a sense of relief. “I’m really happy for you, y/n...”

“But?” You raised an eyebrow with a hint of worry.

“But you better still hang out with me.” He smiled at you and you even heard a chuckle escape Stephen’s lips.

“You can count on it, Bruce.” You lifted a hand for a fist bump and collided your knuckles with his, even if they were a bit oversized.

“Shall we get going, dear?” Stephen asked you while he hooked his arm around yours and opened a portal home. You waved goodbye to Bruce and went on your way, stepping right into Sanctum as the way closed behind you.

“So you really meant it, huh?” You asked your husband while setting your belongings down.

“That I love what you’ve done with the place?” Stephen laughed at your oncoming smirk and walked forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you forward to kiss the top of your head. “Of course, dear.”

“Even the stairs?” You peeked your head up to look at your husband and watched his smile grow. You’d never bothered casting a spell to properly repair them. Maybe you were just too proud of your work. Maybe it was a reminder that you got through these five years on your own terms.

“I do.” He leaned down to kiss your lips. “It adds character to this place.”

“More character than the magic?” You prodded at him.

“I think you mean ‘sorcery.’” He corrected as you leaned into his chest and slightly swayed back and forth, taking in his presence for the 50th time since he’d come home.

“Oh, of course. Silly me.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @blizzardbabe // @agentshortstacc // @rosadiaz-sarayvargas-harleyquinn // @werewolf-himbo // @comiocudequemtalendo1 // @mochamoff // @the-marvel-meme-emporium // @summersimmerus //

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....

How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....

Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀

I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....

It's totally fine, if not 😁😁

This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.

TMNT Oneshots

The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣

Donatello

Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.

He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.

He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.

Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.

All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.

“Casey?”

He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.

“Is that my cheeseburger?”

You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.

You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.

“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.

“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”

Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.

“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”

Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.

“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”

He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.

“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.

“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”

Leonardo

See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?

Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.

He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.

You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.

“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”

All the poor turtle could do was nod.

“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”

Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.

After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.

They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"

April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.

"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"

Raphael

Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.

He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-

“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”

Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.

“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”

Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”

The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.

“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”

“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”

You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”

He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.

“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”

Michelangelo

There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.

Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.

They weren’t at all ready for the scream.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”

And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”

And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.

“YES IT DO-”

So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.

These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁

-Mars 🌠

[readinginthereadyroom]

let’s talk about 9-1-1 buddie headcanons:

- eddie gets rid of his truck. christopher is getting older and wants more independence so he gets something with better clearance. and I’ve decided that something is a dodge durango. eddie is actually really into it. can’t stop talking about the fold down seats and towing capabilities. buck teases him and calls it his soccer mom van. then immediately starts researching CP-friendly soccer leagues for chris.

- buck strikes me as a podcast kinda guy. I feel like a lot of his random facts probably start with information learned via podcast and then researched separately on google or wikipedia. 

- luddite eddie my beloved. but not like luddite luddite. eddie’s a millennial so I see him as okay with all the 20th century technology he grew up with and just not all the newfangled smart home/internet gaming stuff. 

- abuela gives eddie an old turntable and a box of records and he falls in love with it. likes to play spanish love songs while cleaning on the weekends.

- eddie breaks up with ana. he does it quietly and cordially a couple weeks after the sniper incident.

- buck and taylor date for a little while but never really take off. and it’s super important that it’s buck who makes the decision to break up. they both have very busy lives and different priorities. and taylor acknowledges she probably shouldn’t have kissed him in the first place. she just hated to see buck so broken and wanted to comfort him. they decide they are better as friends.

- bosko and eddie friendship rights! eddie actually apologizes to her and they become gym buddies. lena stops going to the junkyard fights and finds an MMA gym that she’ll take eddie to. during the pandemic they somehow find themselves doing socially distanced tai-chi in the park. they keep it up once the gyms reopen.

- side note: lena does in fact get a cat. he’s a huge floofy maine coon named sarge who absolutely adores eddie. rubs his head all over him and immediately worms his way into his lap when eddie visits. he hisses at buck tho and lena finds it endlessly hilarious.

- demisexual eddie! I like the idea of lena no-nonsense asking eddie if he’s ace one day and eddie just having an internal panic attack but not being able to figure out why. karen gently brings it up few months later and he’s just deny deny deny. then he overhears david telling michael that he gives off ace vibes and that’s the last straw. so eddie pulls a full buck and starts researching just to prove everyone wrong. except it’s like a lightbulb clicks on and yeah. maybe there’s something to this.

- eddie and karen have a book club every other week. usually novellas or a short story collection. queer theory and literary fiction. the occasional poetry book. at some point they invite david to join them. they also have a not-so-secret romance novel exchange because they are big saps.

- eddie is also a sucker for a really good cup of black coffee. has a favorite hole-in-the-wall cafe where he buys beans in bulk. buck calls it his diesel fuel drink and grimaces at the taste. he prefers simple oatmilk latte from the place near the station. and yet buck always seems to know what days eddie will be running late and rushing to work and has a cup from said hole-in-the-wall coffee waiting. despite it not being on buck’s route. 

- christopher loves buck’s loft. buck keeps a stash of toys and coloring books in his coffee table trunk for when he visits. chris sees the stairs as a fun challenge and will often ask to go up and sit on buck’s bed to watch the city. or sit on the patio while buck bbq’s dinner for the three of them. he thinks it’s the coolest house ever.

- buck actually rides his bike. it’s not just for show. especially after the pandemic hit. he likes to go out in the mornings. drives to a nearby trail on his days off and enjoys the scenery while the sun comes up. sometimes eddie and chris meet him there after his ride and they have a breakfast picnic.

- the diaz-buckley-han’s share one netflix account. it’s technically buck’s in that he pays for it, but when maddie moved to LA he set her up with her own profile. then logged into his account at eddie’s one day and never logged out. renamed the profile buck & eddie after he setup a kid’s profile specifically for chris. then after learning about maddie and chim’s not-dating buff-fridays, buck put both their names on her profile as a prank. and then it just stayed that way. jee-yun even has a profile despite being a literal infant that doesn’t watch tv. maddie cried when she saw it.

- buck takes the legal guardianship thing very seriously. he’s already really involved in essentially co-parenting chris but he starts getting really nervous about asking invasive questions about chris’ medical history. so eddie sits him down with chris and the three of them talk about it. eddie very specifically asks chris if he’s okay with sharing that kind of info with buck. because even tho christopher’s a kid eddie always wants him to have a say in his own health decisions. then he has a more in-depth convo with just buck about insurance and bills and doctor’s visits. makes sure buck has access to all of it. 

- chris played secret matchmaker. went to his old friend santa claus and asked if buck would stay forever. santa came thru, as always.

- also carla knows. buck starts spending more nights at the diaz house and one morning she lets herself in and sees buck coming out of eddie’s room in just a pair of sweatpants. she gives him a coy eyebrow raise and buck blushes. then she just laughs, pats his cheek affectionately, and says your secret’s safe with me buckaroo. when a bleary-eyed eddie wanders out a half hour later she pushes a cup of coffee into his hands, waits a few moments, looks eddie dead in the eyes, and points at buck. I see you took my advice. eddie chokes on his coffee.

- speaking of carla she is family. she and her husband are regular guests at the 118 get-togethers, holidays at the firehouse, and family meals. she occasionally takes on other clients, but she’s mostly exclusive to the diazes these days. esp as christopher gets older and wants more independence. she’s been around since he was 7 and he’s comfortable with her. she stays his home heath care aide until she retires. then she personally vets a new one. because not just anyone will do for her boy. they throw her a huge retirement party.

- gonna jump into the future because christopher absolutely names his daughter carla shannon buckley-diaz. there isn’t a dry eye in the house.

- and I don’t actually see chris calling buck pops or anything. he’s just his buck. tho I can see eddie asking christopher if he wants to hyphenate his last name when buck officially adopts him. buck’s his hero so chris is 100% onboard. 

- buck and eddie don’t have more kids. eddie never wanted more and buck is surrounded by the ever-expanding horde of firefam kids. they love their little trio.

- also eddie is hilariously terrible with other kids. he just. doesn’t know how to talk to them. he’s literally the best father ever with christopher, but any other kid and he’s all awkward hello small human. it’s also the reason the team sends buck to handle kid rescues. he knows how to speak to kids and they light up around his sunshine energy. but then there are certain kids who just glom onto eddie. usually the quiet ones. they find something about his calm dad presence very soothing so they just cling to him until buck can coax them around. 

- I do not see the buckley-diazes getting a pet. buck and eddie work long shifts and it’s not fair to put that kind of extra responsibility on carla when her job is to care for chris. however, as chris gets older he does get a mobility service dog to help with counterbalance. she’s a golden retriever named stella and she’s a very good girl. 

- buck proposes by accident. they’re at the park with christopher and marriage just sorta comes up during one of his infodumps. eddie is eating his sandwich, nodding along, and just casually says of course I want to marry you. buck stops talking. christopher giggles. eddie panics. but when he looks at buck he’s all puppy-eyed and hopeful. you do? eddie nods. chris chimes in with a stage whispered ask properly buck and say yes dad. so they do.

[cricketnationrise]

bowling legends

Written for day 5 of Friendship Week! prompt: sport other than hockey / the tadpoles @birlcholtz you rock

_X_

“Alright I give up, why are we going to this sketchy strip mall?” Ford asks while Tango looks for a parking spot.

“We’re going bowling, and this is the closest place,” Whiskey answers. “We looked it up, they’re having a five dollar pitcher and three dollar wing special tonight. Plus shoe rentals are only ten per person.”

“That is surprisingly thrifty of y’all, Whiskey.”

“Well, we are also using sin bin money tonight.”

“You guys! That’s supposed to go toward the team stuff!”

“It is for the team!” Tango protests, pulling into a spot.

“Captain’s orders,” Whiskey adds.

“Captain’s orders? To take me bowling with fine money?” Ford looks doubtful.

“Well, the bowling part was us, but Dex definitely said to take you somewhere to unwind.”

“I don’t need to unwind I have a million things to get done for the spring musical and prep for playoffs and -”

“And you’ve been snappish at the whole team for the last week.”

Ford’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click of her teeth.

“...I have?”

Whiskey nods gently. “We hoped it was just an off day, but it was all week, Foxy.”

She hangs her head. “Sorry guys, I’m just stressed.”

“Hence us taking you bowling!” Tango says with a smile. “We figured it was sufficiently active slash violent to let out your stress with minimal damage to people or property. Plus lots of sitting and beer. We’ll even keep the bumpers up for maximum amusement.”

“I do like beer.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tango says. “Shall we go then?”

The trio troops inside and Tango takes a second in the lobby to just breathe in his surroundings. He loves bowling: the UV light hitting the space carpet, the clatter of pins falling, the sound of the attached arcade games, even the slightly gross smell of bowling shoes, old pizza and spilled beer, all trying to be masked by Pine-Sol. Eh, he’s smelled worse at the Haus. Somewhere in his room at home are three separate birthday party pins all signed by his friends. Bowling rocks.

They grab food and beer, rent their shoes, and settle in for a relaxing night of chucking balls at pins. Whiskey, predictably, takes bowling the most seriously, and consequently is losing by a large margin at the end of six frames. Tango knows the secret of bowling is to think about literally anything else. If you focus too hard you’ll end up overcorrecting. In the immortal words of Jack Black in School of Rock: Loosey goosey baby. Loosey. Goosey.

But Foxtrot looks remarkably relaxed. She’s in second, only a little behind Tango, but she’s got a huge grin on her face as she watches Whiskey do his super stiff robot bowling and snacks on the basket of wings.

“This was a good idea, Tango. Thank you for dragging me out tonight.”

He slings his arm around her shoulder and tugs her closer. “Literally any time Foxy. Well, not during hockey practice, or your rehearsal, or during classes, I guess. But anytime we are both free, I’ll be here with bells on.”

Ford giggles at him and goes to take her turn. She and Whiskey do their secret handshake as they pass each other. Legends Only.

“We did good,” Whiskey comments as he takes a seat and a sip of his beer.

“Literally thank god,” Tango says, “I think she was about to explode from the stress.”

“No one likes a stressed out manager, that’s for sure.”

“She’s gonna be a mess next year when we have to find her replacement before we graduate.”

Whiskey shudders. “Let’s not borrow trouble, bro.”

“Fair enough.” Tango looks around at the other people bowling at nine on a Thursday for the first time, and notices a group of women a few lanes down. They’re all wearing the same lavender bowling shirt. He squints and sees that they say ‘Samwell Bowling Babes.’ He grins, and points them out to Whiskey. Whiskey just raises his eyebrows at Tango.

“You’re not seriously trying to wheel now, are you?”

“It’s for Ford!” Tango protests.

“What’s for Ford?” she asks, coming back. “You’re up Tango.”

“I was just pointing out that group over there,” he says, pointing.

“Samwell Bowling Babes?” Ford looks doubtful.

“You should go talk to them, I’ll bet they could use someone new on their team,” says Tango.

“I don’t know, I’m so busy already…”

“Can’t hurt to try, Foxy,” Whiskey says.

“Are you guys going to let me not talk to them?” she asks.

“Probably not,” Tango admits.

“Ugh fine. Don’t bowl for me, I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Tango goes to bowl his frame, keeping an eye on Ford as she goes up to the purple-clad women, bow bouncing.

He flings the bowling ball down the lane and watches as it bounces no less than six times on the bumpers and ends up with nine pins getting knocked down. He manages some bowling magic to get the spare and when he sits down again, Ford is coming back over.

“How the fuck do you do that,” Whiskey grumbles as he trudges up to the ball return for his next frame.

“Natural talent,” he chirps back.

“Turns out they aren’t so much a team as an informal gathering that likes to have matching shirts,” says Ford, before taking another drink of her beer. “But they said they’re super flexible on time and meet a few times a week to accommodate as many people as possible. They’re gonna send me a schedule. Also one of them gave me this for you.” She hands over a small piece of paper with a name and number written on it.

He takes it and pockets it without looking at it. Tonight’s about Denice.

“Alright Foxtrot!” Tango picks her up in a huge hug. “All grown up and getting friends that have nothing to do with hockey or theater. I’m so proud!”

“Alright, alright, put me down!” she laughs. He sets her down gently. “But yeah, yeah, you were right, bowling is great, I need stress relief, and being around people that don’t know anything about pucks or actors is probably a really good idea. Thanks Tango.”

“Got your back.”

“Oh COME ON,” Whiskey wails from in front of them. Tango and Ford look around to see Whiskey looking utterly defeated at the pins. Tango looks at the end of the lane and bursts out laughing, joined a second later by Ford. He’s somehow managed to only knock down a single pin with his first ball. And his second ball rolled into the exact same hole without hitting anything else. One point.

“Oh Whiskey,” she giggles.

“I just don’t understand,” he groans and finishes off his beer.

“I already told you to loosen up, you’re too stiff,” Tango says.

“Don’t make fun of my culture,” Whiskey sniffs, nose in the air.

“Ah yes, we shouldn’t make fun of our future robot overlords if we want to live,” Ford says, nodding.

“Good point, Ford. We tease out of affection, not malice, please don’t kill us when Skynet takes over.”

Whiskey glares at them through his fingers over his face. “You two are the worst ever.”

“Pshh, we’re the best,” says Ford.

“If you go get another round of food, and actually loosen up, Whiskey, I’ll get you whatever prize you want out of the claw machine.”

“No one is good at those,” Whiskey says grumpily.

“I am. I’m freakishly good at them,” he says proudly. “Lots of time spent on the Jersey Shore boardwalk games.”

“Fine. I want the stuffed octopus.”

“Bet. Let’s go, Whisk. Ford - hold down the lane.”

“You got it. Bring me back a giant pretzel.”

“Your wish is my command,” Tango says with a salute as he drags Whiskey toward the arcade and the food counter.

Ford’s relaxed laughter follows them across the aisle, and they fist bump in victory when they hear it.

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

note from denise: hi hii 🥺 I’m so happy and i love this chapter even though it’s all over the place so I’m sorry plz forgive me 🙇‍♀️

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter eight

You heard Hana and Jamie bickering in the living room as you took the burnt part off of the bell peppers you roasted. You were looking out the window in front of the sink every once in a while to check up on the kids. They were having fun playing with their father and uncles. You’ve never seen them smile brighter.

You were happy that they finally had their father, Tobio was a good figure but obviously not their real father. Earlier Rin gave his first scolding to your son for shoving Akira and he also told Akira that calling people idiot wasn’t nice. You couldn’t help but snicker behind your cardigan since he was obviously nervous and a bit awkward but it all worked out in the end. The twins and your best friends were peering through the door at the scene and they were in awe.

It just looked so natural. You, Rin and the kids. All that’s missing is a pet dog or cat. Jamie thought if you and Rin really try then you both could fall in love again and be a nice family all together. She grew up with divorced parents so she knew how tough it could be. She doesn’t want to hear you and Rin fighting in the future about upcoming holidays. Or maybe eventually having to separate the twins.

“Hana do you think you could ask the guys if they want to stay for dinner?” You said from the kitchen. “Oka-“ “No y/n, I think you should do it.” Jamie popped in. “Huh? I’m literally cooking.” You said as you reached into the bag of roasted peppers. Your fingers were stuck onto the black crisps. “You’re trying to avoid them.” She squinted and you rolled your eyes. “No I’m not.” You defended yourself. “Yes you are.” She deadpanned. “You never say no to setting for your kids. Even if you’re busy you tell them to give you five or ten minutes but when Rini asked you straight up said no since you needed to cook. I think that stung him a bit. He probably wanted to show off his skills to his dad.” She said and you frowned slightly. “I mean it’s fine, she’s probably uncomfortable which makes sense. The worst people in the world are just chilling in her house. It makes sense that she’s on edge.” The familiar voice said and you turned to see Atsumu leaning against the breakfast bar between your kitchen and living room. You didn’t want to say he’s right..but I mean..he’s right.

“...would you like to stay for dinner?” You asked awkwardly as Jaime sighed and walked away. “Mmm depends, what are you making?” He teased to try to help you ease up. “Food, either take it or leave it.” You said plainly as you flipped the pepper on the stove. “I miss your cooking so I think I’ll stay. Let me call Osamu so he can help.” He said and you immediately protested. “No it’s fine, you guys are the guests. I’ll feel bad.” You said and he chuckled. “Y/N-Chan..” he started, “Osamu owns his own restaurant, all he does is eat, cook, and work out. He would want nothing more than to help you cook. It’s in his DNA.” He said and you rolled your eyes. “Fine ask Rin if he wants to stay too.” You said. “Oh he’ll want to stay, plus we all carpooled together.” He said and you nodded and he left.

“Yo, we gotta go.” Jamie said from the doorway. “Did you say bye to the kids?” You asked and she nodded. “Sorry Y/N, we have a doctors appointment.” Jamie frowned slightly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you later.” You smiled and she nodded sadly. After a quick goodbye hug they were out the door and Osamu was waiting in the kitchen to help you cook.

“Alright boss, let’s get started.” He said as he washed his hands and you chuckled.

Dinner went good, the kids mainly talked and were the stars of the show. After dinner they wanted to show their uncles and dad their Minecraft worlds on their tablets, courtesy of Tobio.

Suna offered to help clean up but you insisted it was fine and to spend as much time with the kids and he reluctantly agreed and you were left alone.

Your phone buzz after you sat on the breakfast bar to enjoy yet another cup of tea and you almost spilled it when you saw who was calling. “Holy shit, holy shit.” You muttered and the guys immediately turned to you from their spots on the couch. “I’m going to take this phone call I’ll be right back.” You said leaving Rin in charge and you answered while you made your way down the hall.

“Hello?” “Hi is this Y/N? This is Natsuo, the songwriter and director for the soundtrack for Kimetsu No Yaiba. From my understanding you are voicing Nezuko and Shinobu, correct?” “That is correct, sir.” You replied, “Well I stumbled across your portfolio and resume and I phone called your old vocal coach and he said some things about you.” He said. “Well I hope they’re all good.” You chuckled nervously.

“Yes they’re more than good actually and I wanted to offer you the opportunity of singing the opening for the anime, if not then maybe the outro. Would you be interested? Of course you’d have to come to the studio and sing for us and we’ll decide but I wanted to ask first since I know you also work as a volleyball commentator as well.” He said and you gasped.

“Yes sir of course, I would be honored...” you said happily. “Great! I see that you come in the studio on Monday for the read through of the script. Can you come earlier to audition?” He asked and you agreed and set up a time.

Normally any other person would want to audition after but if it’s singing, you can’t eat or drink sweet stuff before because it messes up your throat and you can accidentally burp and embarrass yourself. So you’d rather do the singing audition before and eat whatever is at the snack bar during the read through.

When you hung up the phone you squealed and did a little happy dance. You quickly took a deep breath and you made your way out of your office back to the living room. “Um...where are the twins? The Miya’s I mean.” You asked when you saw that only Suna was chilling with a kid on each side of him. “Osamu needed to check up on his shop and Atsumu had to go to the gym. I decided to stay behind because I didn’t know how long you would take.” He replied.

“But didn’t you all carpool?” You asked and he nodded. “I can Uber. Don’t worry.” He said and you nodded and sat next to Rini. “Kids guess what.” You said happily and they both looked up from their tablets. “I go to the studio on monday—“ “THE STUDIO CAN WE GO?!” They immediately asked with bright eyes. “Uh—I don’t know guys, I’m working and Jamie has work too i don’t know if someone can watch you guys at the studio.” You said. “What time and I’ll go. I can keep them entertained.” Suna spoke up.

“I’m gonna be there for a few hours..I’ll have a read through of the script and a song audition before that..” you told him. “Wait what do you do anyways?” He asked curiously and the kids gasped. “You don’t know what mommy does for a living?! She’s the coolest mom in the world.” Rini exclaimed with extended arms to emphasize the world. “Listen to the voice of the narrator.“ Akira said and shoved the tablet in his hands. It was Peppa pig. Honestly they couldn’t find a cooler role you played in? Even the side characters were fine, but Akira had to choose peppa pig.

Rin listened to peppa as she scolded her little brother Georgie. And finally he heard your voice narrate what happened and his eyes widened. “No way, you’re a voice actor?” He asked and you nodded. “Wow imagine that. You were always so shy and now your voice is heard by millions across the world.” He teased and your face tinted.

“Well when you put it like that it freaks me out!” You snatched the tablet from his hands and the kids looked at each other with raised brows. “I’m only kidding. But it’s pretty amazing that you do that. Any big roles you’re playing soon?” He asked. “I may or may not be acting in Kimetsu No Yaiba.” You said which was a manga series you both were obsessed with when you were together. “Say sike right now.” He gasped and you gave him that I’m serious face.

“Congrats Y/N. That’s freaking amazing. May i ask who you’re voicing?” He asked and you shook your head. “That’s a secret.” You said and he sighed. “Man got my hopes up for nothing.” He muttered causing your kids to giggle.

“Momma we invited dad to the field trip tomorrow he said yes.” Akira spoke up and your eyes widened. “Wait what—“ “I didn’t necessarily say yes. I wanted to make sure it was cool with you, first. They told me that they were homeschooled and you take them to different places for field trips all the time.” He tried to correct Akira and you nodded.

“Well...I mean..if you want to go then it’s fine. We’re going to an aquarium.” You said and the kids gave him puppy dog eyes. “Alright I’ll go then. It’ll be fun and you guys can show me what you’ve learned.” He smiled softly and the kids cheered. Is this really a good idea? You don’t know. But if your kids are happy, then you’re happy.

“Rin It’s getting late they have bath time and then they need to sleep.” You told him as the kids ran up and down the hall racing with Rini’s toy cars. “Alright then I’ll leave.” “I’m not kicking you out of anything-“ “No it’s fine I get it. I’ve intruded in your territory long enough.” He chuckled and you nodded. “Children of the corn! I’m leaving.” He called and immediately the kids emerged from the hallway and began whining and protesting. “You need to take a bath then go to bed. It’s late. I’m seeing you tomorrow anyways.” He knelt down on his knee to be of eye level with the kids.

“But we don’t want you to leave. I won’t sleep if you don’t read me a story.” Rini pouted and Akira nodded and you both sighed. “Fine, I’ll read you a bed time story and you will go sleep.” He told them and they nodded.

You rounded up the kids for a bubble bath and Rin was sitting on the counter as you explained what kind of kids soap you use and such. But he was mostly watching the kids play with the bubbles. “Hey Akira do you think I’ll look cool with my hair like this?” Rini asked with his messy wannable mohawk, he looked more like the grinch. Akira looked at her brother and snorted. “You look like a troll.” She muttered causing Rini to pout. “You’re so mean.” He mumbled. You got the shower head and told Akira to close her eyes as you finished washing her hair and body and she was finished. “Do you wanna try to finish Rini while I change Akira?” You asked Suna and his eyes widened. “I only know how to bathe my dog, I don’t know how to bathe a kid.” He protested. “Weren’t you watching me?” You asked. “I was distracted with the bubbles, okay.” He deadpanned and you sighed. “Rini help your dad.” You said plainly and left despite Suna’s protests.

“Alright princess, let’s get you dried up and ready for bed, yeah?” You asked the shivering girl in your arms and she nodded. You placed her on the bed and dried her hair a bit and you began to put on her lotion. You helped her into her underwear and she wanted to wear her fox onzie so you began helping her feet in when Rini stumbled in naked with Rin chasing after him with a towel. They were both soaking wet.

“Oh my god.” You sighed. “Boys.” Akira mumbled and you nodded. “You’re worse than washing a dog.” He said as he held him and dried his hair. “Woof.” Rini snickered and Suna flicked his forehead. “I’m soaking wet now.” He deadpanned to his son. You zipped up Akira after successfully placing her in her onzie and you moved on to your son. “Stop giving your dad such a hard time, he’s new to this whole parenting thing ya know?” You told him as you began to rub his face with lotion. “Akira go brush your teeth.” You told her and she pulled her dad along with her. “What do you want to wear to sleep?” You asked. “Can I wear my Fox onzie too?” He asked and you nodded. “Of course.” You replied and helped him into it too.

Rini went on his way to brush his teeth and you were met with the view of Rin helping his daughter floss and you just wanted to melt. This was so freaking cute. You don’t know if your heart could handle the cuteness. “Alrighty next victim!” Rin said and picked up Rini. He began to help him brush his teeth. You helped Akira down from the counter and she went off to look for a good book. You decided it was best to get one of Tobio’s shirts and shorts he had lying around for Rin so he wouldn’t get sick.

When Rini finished brushing his teeth, he went out to help Akira search for a book. “Are you still soaked?” You asked and Suna nodded. “Here wear this so you won’t get sick.” You tossed him some gym shorts and a random T-shirt. He gave a small thanks and you closed the bathroom door to leave him to change. “Alright where are my little foxes?” You hummed and you found your little demons kids jumping on your bed and patiently waiting to read. “Why aren’t you both in bed?” You asked and they stopped jumping and turned to you. “We wanna sleep here with you and daddy!” Rini said and you almost choked on air.

WITH RIN?! ARE THEY CRAZY OR CRAZY?

“Baby he’s not spending the night. He’s only going to read you a bedtime story then leave. You’ll see him tomorrow when you wake up.” You told them and they both had the saddest look on their faces. “But we wanna sleep with you and daddy. Please can he spend the night. Please please please!” Akira begged.

“I don’t mind if you don’t. It’s only for the night.” Rin almost whispered in your ear and you turned your head to him. “Are you sure? What about tomorrow? What are you going to wear?” You asked, “We can stop by my apartment in the morning before we head out.” He said and you raised a brow and turned back to your kids they were already comfy on the middle of your bed and you released your nth sigh of the day. “Fine, one night.” You answered and grabbed your pajamas and left to the bathroom to change.

When you returned Rin was on the left side of the bed with Rini right next to him. Akira patted your spot on the right side and you sat against the headboard of the bed. The twins had two books they wanted you both to read but they all fell asleep while you read the second one. You looked to see Rin, Rini and Akira sleeping and you can never get over how similar they looked like Rin. You quietly hopped out of bed and put the books away and turned off the lights.

You woke up to the sun shining on your face and arms around your waist. You felt a weight on your chest and you sighed and opened your eyes. You blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t seeing things but sure enough, Rin was sleeping on your chest. Just like old times and you tried to control your breathing. You don’t want to be the type of ex who yells and they fall off the bed. You realized the kids were not on the bed too and if Rin was cuddling you, then they must have been gone for a while.

“Rintarou—the kids—WAKE UP!” You quickly shook him and he opened his eyes and quickly moved away. He felt around him and he noticed the kids weren’t there. You both paused in silence to see if you can hear them but when you didn’t you quickly yeeted yourself off the bed with Rin following right at your tail. You opened the door to the twins room and you saw them in their own bed hugging their plushies. You held a hand over your chest and you leaned against the doorframe. “My heart literally dropped.” You turned to Rin.

“Mine did too. Do they usually do that?” He asked. “No, never.” You sighed and closed the door.

The twins opened their eyes and they looked at eachother from across the room. “I told you mom would get a heart attack. We’re lucky she didn’t cry.” Akira whispered. “Whatever at least they cuddled together like a nice married couple.” Rini whispered back and Akira nodded. “I hope mommy and daddy get back together.” Akira said. “They will, our plan is perfect.” Rini whispered mischievously and Akira smiled.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime69 @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

[greaterspawnislands]

lead me into the light | emerald duo platonic soulmates

For all the years he has lived, Phil has lived without a soulmate, and as a result, without color. And he's perfectly fine with that.

Then he touches down on a battlefield for fun, and meets the eyes of a total stranger.

And as the world goes from monochromatic to full of color and more beauty than he had ever imagined, Phil knows that everything is going to change.

(But a mortal's life is only so short, after all.)

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My twitter account voted a series of polls to decide what fic I was gonna write, and they decided on an emerald duo platonic soulmates au fic that was angst with a happy ending ! Link will be in the notes, but here’s a bit of the start to get you into it!

|||

There are a few constants that Phil holds in his life, has always held, and will always hold.

The first, the most glaring, is the centuries that stretch far back in his past and the ones that he approaches in the present. It is the fact that he cannot die from old age or from hunger or from thirst, that it is only by injury that he could possibly be taken down for good.

The second is his lifestyle. Always a traveler, never with a permanent home. For fear of being targeted, or not wanting to cause that kind of disturbance, and because Phil truly desires to wander the world on his own terms, he travels. Visits every city and explores every nook and cranny of it as it changes over the months and years and decades. He visits fields where he spilled blood and watches others spill blood in that very spot a few years later. He carves out temporary places, favored nooks to fish in and well-loved corners of libraries or especially nice inns, but he never lingers around others who might question his unaging face.

And the third is the grayscale in which he sees the world, shades of black and white and everything in between, the only hues he’ll ever lay eyes upon.

(Soulmates are rare. They are not a common thing, they are often considered blessings by the gods to live your life devoid of color, the trials and tribulations to find your other half.)

(Phil has met quite a few gods, in his time of wandering. That’s just straight bullshit.)

He’s lived decades upon decades without a soulmate, and is perfectly content to keep living without one. Where others find agony in not being able to separate the color of the leaves in autumn, Phil has long since made his peace in seeking out the beauty of the world in other ways. The speckled patterns of a newborn fawn in spring. Waves darkening the shade of the sand upon an ocean. The way his lover’s hair seemed to melt into the endless night sky.

(Gods are exempt from the concept of soulmates, and Death had no answers for Phil when he asked her why he had been cursed to live like this, nor could she bring his sight into full color, even with all her otherworldly abilities.)

(“Maybe there is someone out there,” she said to him one night as he rested against her shoulder, looking up at the star-studded sky from where they sat within the earth. “And you just haven’t found them yet.”)

(“I don’t think I need to find anyone else, honestly,” he replied, turning to look at her. She was a thousand times more dazzling than any sky could behold on its own. “You’re all I need, I’m not letting this kind of stuff stop me from living my life any longer.”)

Their visits were infrequent, but time means nothing to a god and a human whose chances of death are slim as long as he keeps himself out of trouble.

Phil’s wings flare out as he touches down on a battlefield stained with darker shades of gray, determined to find go and find some trouble, if only because this past year has been incredibly boring otherwise.

“My name is Philza,” he introduces himself to the general of the army, hand raising in a salute that had definitely been appropriate last time he was on a battlefield, and he doesn’t really care much whether it still holds up. He takes his hat off as well, holding the striped material against his chest. “And I’m here to help, if you’ll have me.”

His reputation, that of the Angel of Death, precedes him. For all his intentions to keep away from sticking around civilians as they aged, wars and skirmishes would always be an exception.

It was a secret sort of thrill, to throw himself into the fray of a conflict he would hardly remember by the next one. To release the fearlity that he kept tightly wound up inside him, to splatter blood on a blade and sink arrow after arrow through the eyes of assailants. Nevertheless, the legends of his help follow him wherever he goes, and the look of relief on the general’s face says enough on that matter.

A night’s rest later, he’s led across the loosely set up encampment to one of the larger tents. As he walks, Phil tips his head up to gaze at the sky. There was no smooth texture, instead fuzzy clouds crowd the sky, and Phil tilts his head, noting the approaching rain.

Once inside the tent, the general nods at him, speaking before Phil can even courteously extend a greeting.

“We’re going to have you take command of the Red Snakes force, over here.” The general indicates to the map spread out on the table between them, pointing to a marker that Phil notices has a small symbol carved into it. It’s a small squiggle, barely noticeable, but it stands out against the other symbols carved into the various markers that Phil gathers to represent the different sub-forces that this general is commanding.

It’s helpful primarily, though no one knows of his own color-absence, he does appreciate the carved symbols. As an afterthought, it’s interesting. He wonders who else is color-absent this high up in the commanding forces. A rare thing, to be sure, not that he’ll bother to interact with them for that reason. He’s here to help spill some blood, not hear some poor sap moan about how they feel they’ll die on the battlefield before meeting their soulmate.

Phil’s eyes snap from the squiggly symbol back to the general’s words, tuning in mid-sentence. He’s definitely missed some information that was probably crucial, but he’ll get somebody else to relay it to him later. For now—

“Your co-commander already knows this, of course, but I figured I would inform you separately so you were up to date on our intel before you began discussing the best course of action.”

“Sorry, my who?” Phil blurts, brow furrowing, heart sinking a little.

“You’ll be co-leading this group, at least for now.”

Phil lightly bites the inside of his cheek to keep his face schooled appropriately. He knows what this is. It’s a nicely phrased term to cover up the fact that he’s being babysat because they don’t trust him with their armies, so they’ve appointed another commander to watch over him.

On one hand, it’s fucking annoying to be watched like that. On the other hand, that does mean Phil can totally push all the actual commanding duties off to the other guy while he buggers off to do what he pleases. Maybe this won’t be too bad after all, honestly, it depends whether he gets some kind of suck up as a co-commander or not.

“Commander Technoblade has shown great leadership prowess in recent skirmishes, so it was determined that he could take up control of a new force until your support and guidance,” the general continues, and Phil’s heart sinks further.

Oh, gods, they think he’s some kind of trainer, some kind of mentor to a kid who’s been handed too much responsibility for his age and will die in a week. Not this shit again. “Sounds great,” he lies through his teeth. “When do I meet him?”

There’s a soft knocking against the flap of the tent, and the general lifts a hand. “That’ll be him. You can come in, Technoblade.”

“Yes sir,” a deep voice intones. There a shuffling of fabric just as Phil turns to greet whoever this guy is, and—

And his vision explodes with—

Everything is so bright, even brighter than the white gleam of the sun in his eyes. Phil blinks furiously as what he’s certain is color blooms across his vision, spreading outward until there’s nowhere he can look to escape from the blinding, unfamiliar hues. Gone is the subtle change of shade between the grass at his feet and the canvas walls of the tent. They’re two entirely different colors now, unrecognizable in this state.