#the kids have known each other since they were six months old

[pose4photoml]

Never thought this day would end. A joint graduation party was a lot of work and of course the clean up was just as tiring as the setting it up. Both kids had fun and I got some great pictures. Thankfully I’m off work tomorrow so I plan on sleeping in. Then being a bum snacking and watching some shows!!

[canthelpit0]

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

[say-al0e]

Casual

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Steve Harrington has always been kind of an asshole and you've always been kind of in love with him. But a lifetime of friendship doesn't mean either of you are ready for something more than a casual fling because there's nothing scarier than vulnerability, even in Hawkins. [Set between seasons 2 and 3] Warnings: Car sex, requited unrequited love, unprotected PinV, mentions of cheating (parents, Carol; not Steve or Reader). Pairing: Steve Harrington x rich girl!Reader (briefly mentioned but important, off-screen Eddie Munson x rich girl!Reader) Word Count: 5.6k

Steve Harrington was kind of an asshole.

For as long as you’d known him, he’d been a bit of a dick. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, depending on who you asked, you’d known him your entire life. You grew up together, neighbors, with parents who, in their own way, were best friends - if either of your parents were capable of such a thing as friendship. And because of that, you saw a side of Steve that few others had ever witnessed.

There were moments where you saw the softness, the honeyed sweetness, that shimmered through the cracks in the facade he crafted for himself - beneath the hair and the smirk and the snarky quips. Moments where the real Steve, a tender-hearted, well-intentioned sweetheart who was always on the verge of getting it right but never quite managed to make it, lurked beneath the heavy crown he wore.

Just as there were moments when he saw beneath your own carefully crafted persona. He was the only only person who had ever seen the worry, the sadness, the deep-rooted yearning for something more that was buried beneath your walls of ice. He saw every impossibly strong, deeply felt emotion that lingered beneath your careful composure, your even stoicism. He saw the real you, not just the Ice Queen cloaked in department store dresses and expensive perfume.

Only, neither of you acknowledged those moments.

It was an unspoken pact, one you’ve honored since thirteen when you both realized that being popular meant more than being nice. You both pretended that you were still the same vapid rich kids you’d always been, unburdened by a world built to cater to you.

Even if that was no longer true. Even if it hadn’t been true in a very long time.

Either way, you didn’t mention his newfound soft spot for a strange, ragtag group of children and he didn’t mention the fact that he knew the hickey just beneath your jaw was from none other than Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.

Just as you had nearly every weekend for the past six months, the pair of you sat in the backseat of his BMW after yet another party that neither of you particularly wanted to attend. It had long ago gotten old, pretending to enjoy the self-involved prattling of your former classmates - their bragging about taking on the family business or which colleges they’d be attending in the fall, snide remarks about Steve’s lack of direction while conveniently ignoring the fact that you were the only one with an Ivy acceptance - and you couldn’t help yourself as you huffed.

“Tommy and Carol are the worst. I swear, if I have to hear her bitch about his inability to make her come or him make another stupid fucking dick joke, I’m gonna scream.”

For as long as you could remember, you’d wanted to tell them both to fuck off, to disappear back into whatever hole they’d managed to claw their way out of, but Steve reveled in their following, once upon a time, anyway. Now, he looked almost resigned to their existence in your lives as he frowned.

“She told you that?”

“Won’t stop telling me that,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as his hand fell to your thigh, fingers idly tracing the bare skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. “I would tell her to break up with him but, honestly, they totally deserve each other. May they spend the rest of their lives making each other completely fucking miserable.”

It was only in these moments, hidden away in the thick of the trees near Lover’s Lake, that any glimpse of your real selves began to emerge. Your annoyed huffing, directed at the awful people you found yourself surrounded by, and Steve’s tender touch as he shifted closer and carefully brushed a lock of hair from your neck. Neither of you mentioned it, too lost in your own little world, but it never escaped either of your notice.

Still, Steve hummed dutifully. “Totally,” he agreed, “told him she cheated on him with Billy but he called me a liar.” He paused for a moment, shifted just a touch closer - his jean covered leg pressing into yours, body warm even in the cool air conditioning - before he changed the subject by asking, “New perfume?”

“Everyone knows about her and Billy. But, like, who hasn’t Billy fucked at this point.” Steve leaned in, nosed at the curve of your jaw, and you hummed. “Mom brought it back from that last conference they went to. Said I needed something more mature before I leave for school.” You left out the part of the conversation where she went on for nearly an hour about how much of a waste it was for you to even consider college in the first place when you were meant to marry someone of status - someone like Steve - and tilted your head to allow him more room.

“Smells good,” he complimented. “Like oranges or something.”

“Or something,” you mumbled agreeably, shifting against the seat to make yourself more comfortable as he began to press his mouth to the sensitive skin of your throat. “What’re you doin’, Stevie?”

“Giving you the attention you deserve,” he answered, never missing a beat and only pausing to nip at the pulse point. “Can’t have you unfucked in this skirt. That’d be criminal.”

As if he sought to make a point, Steve’s hand began to drift higher up your thigh, fingers traveling a well-worn path and ghosting over bruises left in his wake after last Saturday’s party at his own home. Again, he decidedly avoided the few extra spots that lined your thighs - the bite mark he would see when you parted your legs, in the shape of a certain metalhead’s teeth, and the hickey you’d been left with at the juncture of your thighs - as you laughed.

“Should call Hawkins’s finest,” you teased, grinning when Steve huffed a laugh.

“They’d send Callahan,” he mused as his fingers dug into the plush of your thigh and pulled you closer, encouraging you to climb onto his lap. “Would love to see him try to figure out what to do with you.”

“And you know what to do with me?”

Steve’s smirk was obvious, clear even as he nipped at your skin. “‘Course I do,” he assured you, settling back against the plush of the seat as you shifted in the small space and settled on his lap. “I know exactly what to do with you.”

“Prove it.”

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, thick even in the cool interior of his car, and gave you the briefest respite to study him. Soft brown eyes were blown black with lust, a darkness that you sometimes found yourself grateful for the chance to witness, and his hair had begun falling in his eyes. His cheeks were tinged pink and you knew that his lips would follow soon. 

Steve was beautiful, a work of art in the dim moonlight, and your heart beat just a touch too fast for something that was supposed to be casual as you waited for him to take the bait.

Before you could tease, attempt to bring some levity back into the moment that suddenly seemed too intense, Steve’s large hand found the back of your head. He pulled you in with a practiced ease, a touch that betrayed just how comfortable you were with one another, and pressed his mouth to yours.

Whereas Steve’s facade was all flash, easy confidence with nothing to prove, his kiss was almost desperate. There was the knowledge that he was good - he’d earned it, sought to learn exactly what you liked and adapted quickly - but beneath that, there was a desire to make the moment everything you could want. He kissed you with an urgency you could never quite understand, almost as if he wanted to savor the moment because he feared it may never happen again, but you knew that couldn’t be true.

As reticent as you both were to delve into your true selves - into your true feelings - you knew that this would happen time and again. It would happen until one of you inevitably broke the other’s heart, and maybe even after.

Still, Steve kissed your with more passion than you ever could’ve expected.

From your position on his lap, skirt bunched around your waist and hands falling into his hair, you could feel the growing bulge in his jeans. There was a slight rocking of his hips, something you might’ve dismissed as an attempt to get comfortable if you didn’t know him so well, and you still managed to find yourself surprised by just how much the little things turned him on.

“Girls like you,” he rasped, breaking the kiss before you could even think to, “just need to be fucked dumb. Be all pretty and cock drunk. Made into that pretty little trophy wife you swear you’d hate to be.”

The way he spoke was so casually condescending, a little mean in the way he’d discovered you liked, and you felt your cheeks heat as you squirmed on his lap. He knew - knew that your mother hated your ambition, swore you were purposely sabotaging her attempts to marry you off, including the few attempts she’d made with him - and smirked when you shot him a half-hearted glare.

“You can pout all you want, but that’s what you need, right?” His hands fell to your thighs, raking up the soft skin as your own tangled in his hair and tugged. “To be taken care of, to be fucked like you deserve.”

“Don’t think some hotshot husband would care enough to fuck me like that,” you countered, swallowing hard in an attempt to maintain your composure as his fingers trailed higher. “Would never come. He’d be too focused on fucking the secretary ‘cause she won’t be upset when he gets off and she doesn’t. But that’s why the trophy wives fuck the pool boys and tennis coaches, I guess.”

Steve hummed his understanding - had his own firsthand knowledge of both your father’s affairs, knew just what kind of men he was surrounded by now that he was old enough - before tipping his chin to glance up at you. “Guess you’ll have to look harder to find someone worth your time, then. ‘Cause this pussy’s too good to be wasted on some dickhead who won’t appreciate it.”

“Steve.” His name came out softer than you intended, a near breathless sort of whine that betrayed you - more than the growing patch of slick clearly visible against the light pink fabric of your panties - and he hummed.

“Don’t worry, babe. You know I’ll take care of you.” Though Steve could be an asshole when he wanted, he was nothing but a giver when he settled between your thighs. There were moments where you worried, secretly feared this might be the moment he decided to be selfish and leave you hanging, but more often than not, you were the one to tap out first. And any argument you could’ve formed died on your lips as he ordered, “Just shut up and sit pretty for me, yeah?”

Despite yourself - despite the part of your brain that wanted you to argue, to fight back and tell him to go fuck himself - you melted into his touch as his fingers ghosted over the fabric between your thighs. You heard him sigh, felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your mouth as he refused to put more space than necessary between you, as his gaze met yours.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in my bed,” he decided, gaze flicking back to where his fingers hooked into the soft material and dragged it to the side. “Can’t taste you the way I want in here.”

“Can’t keep saying shit like that,” you mumbled, nails biting into his skin as you gripped his shoulder to keep yourself upright. “Gonna make me think you actually like eating pussy.”

“I do,” he admitted, grinning when you rolled your eyes. “Like eating yours the best, though.”

With that, Steve’s fingers swiped through the slick gathered between your thighs. His thumb caught on the sensitive bundle of nerves and his mouth returned to yours, eagerly swallowing the soft noise of surprised pleasure you released.

Each swipe of his fingers was easy, almost lazy. There was a practiced ease there, a lover’s knowledge of your body - absent any of the almost nervous exploration of the first time - and you forced yourself not to think too hard about that fact as his tongue swiped at the seam of your lips.

The small space was cramped, not the easiest to maneuver, but it was familiar.

Though sometimes familiarity equated to boredom, routine, Steve’s touch was anything but. Every swipe of his fingers through your folds, every brush of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, was electrifying. He had you teetering on the verge of begging, eager for him in a way you’d never been for anyone else - almost anyone else - and you knew he could tell as he finally gave you something more.

Two thick fingers, skilled and steady, pressed into you. They stretched you - never quite enough to fully prepare you for the impressive length hidden beneath the denim you knew you were soaking through - in a way that had your breath catching in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. Steve knew exactly where to press, fingers finding that one spot that made you see stars, and you could feel the twitch of his mouth as he refused to allow you to pull away from the kiss entirely.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, tone so smug it made you realize why so many were eager to brand him an asshole. “C’mon, babe, the sooner you let go, the sooner I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Despite your conflicting emotions - the desire to hit him, to call him an asshole and tell him to just get on with it; the desire to kiss him, to tell him that you only wanted this, him for the rest of your life - you settled for the middle ground and allowed yourself to sink into his touch.

Those murmurs of encouragement, almost reverent in a way that you hoped no one else had ever heard, had your mind blanking and your chest heaving as you focused solely on the press of his fingers. His pace was perfect, steady and even and never too much - always too much, always enough to make you wonder how you ever thought you could be fine with losing this someday - and you would’ve told him as much if you were capable of speaking without admitting that you were afraid you could love him for the rest of your life.

Instead, you settled for sinking your nails into his shoulder, for tugging at the soft strands of his hair, as he nipped at your skin. He sucked a mark just beneath the one you knew he’d seen, despite your attempt at concealing it, and that was enough to throw you over the edge.

Steve once admitted to loving the noises you made, promised they turned him on rather than weirded him out - something you only admitted when he asked why you were so quiet, refused to let you come until you explained yourself - and you knew you wouldn’t have been able to quiet yourself even if you’d tried as his fingers worked you through the first orgasm of the night.

Knowing him, Steve wouldn’t stop until he had you desperate - he liked to see your tears, watery eyes and mascara running as you finally let down the walls he’d only glimpsed behind - and that seemed to be the case as he resumed his pace the moment your breathing began to even.

“Steve,” you huffed, your best attempt at something resembling normal, though you could hear the whining edge to your tone. “Fuck me,” you demanded, or at least attempted to. “Fill me up. So big, always feel so full when you’re inside.”

It was a low blow, an attempt to appeal to his ego - exaggerated, though it was true; he was the biggest you’d ever had - and he rolled his eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip.

“So fucking impatient,” he huffed, though he gave in, just as he always did. “Such a spoiled brat.”

With a tap to your thigh, you shifted. You held yourself upright, knees digging into the soft cushions of the seat, long enough for him to unbutton his jeans and shift his hips. As you had every time you found yourself in this situation, which was more often than not lately, you watched with wide eyes and bated breath as he freed himself from the confines of too-tight denim.

For years, you wondered why so many girls flocked to Steve when they knew how things would end. You wondered why anyone gave him a chance, why anyone came back when he forgot to call or blew them off for someone else, but you understood now. The look of him, the weight and feel of his cock in your hand as you reached out and swiped at the pearl of precum beading at the tip, was almost answer enough. The effort he put in to make you feel as if you were the only person that mattered, as if your pleasure were more important than his, quelled the rest of your doubt.

When you lifted your hand to your mouth, lapped the bead from your thumb and hummed, Steve groaned.

“Fucking tease.” There was no bite, no venom, to the words, but you still bit back your grin as he reached for your hip with one hand and held the base of his cock with the other. He dragged you closer, settled you firmly on his lap and swiped the tip of his cock through your folds, as he tipped his chin in a silent request for you to return your mouth to his.

As you pressed your lips to his, he used the grip on your hip to drag your hips down. It was swift, faster than he’d ever gone and almost desperate in the way he pulled you in, but you reveled in the slight pinch as he stretched you open.

There was something so overwhelming about feeling Steve so close, about having him in the way you dreamt of when you first realized how you felt about him, but you did your best to swallow the sudden lump in your throat as your eyes fell shut and your lips parted.

The pace always varied with Steve. Some nights were hard and fast, usually when you were both wound up after a particularly rough night; others were soft and slow, when the emotion began to overwhelm you, when the desperate need to be close outweighed the potential damage a confession might bring. And others still were somewhere in between, teasing and playful; an alternation between soft and hard, slow and quick - a way for him to make you beg, to bring you out of your head and into the moment.

Tonight was no different.

Though you sat atop him, Steve did all the work. His hips snapped, cock pressing into you with every movement, as his hands dragged you down. He controlled the pace, controlled the moment, and you allowed yourself to be fully present.

There was no facade in these moments, no pretending to be anything other than you were, and you imagined that was why you both returned time and again. This was Steve - giving, eager, desperate to be good enough. And you were just as present, just as honest; soft, pliant, warm and overjoyed that he still wanted you despite the surface ice that froze most others out. 

Neither of you could pretend here, with nothing between you but a few pesky articles of clothing. Neither of you wanted to.

And you knew, as your mouth returned to his, that despite the rough snap of his hips and the bruising grip he held on your hip, that your kiss betrayed you. Each swipe of your tongue, each breathless gasp you allowed him to swallow, told him exactly what he needed to know.

When his hand fell between your thighs, thumb pressing to the aching bundle of nerves, your mind went blank and your thoughts revolved solely around the beautiful brunette beneath you.

The curve of his jaw, the warmth of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the plush of his lips; Steve, Steve, Steve, was all that existed in your mind. The drag of his cock, filling you so perfectly that it almost seemed as if he were a missing piece, designed especially for you, was all that existed. And just as he wanted, it left you pliant in his hands.

“There we go,” he groaned, voice softer than you imagined he intended, as a hand lifted to your cheek. “Look at that, givin’ you what you need, hm?” When you moaned your agreement, lips pursing in a silent request for him to kiss you, Steve smiled. “Look pretty like this. Soft and fucked out for me. I’m the only one that can make you feel like this, yeah?”

It was the first confirmation that he knew, that he cared more than you thought he might, about the other man in your life. And though you wanted to tease him, to poke and prod and be a bit of a bitch about it, you could only moan your agreement.

Eddie was good, was more than enough, but there was something about Steve.

“Prove it,” he demanded, voice only just beginning to show his exertion as his hips snapped a little harder. “Come for me, babe. Show me how good I make you feel.”

As was beginning to become a habit, you gave in to him without so much as an attempt otherwise. The press of his fingers to your aching clit, the rough snap of his hips, the warmth of his breath fanning over your sweat slick skin; all of it was too much, just enough, to send you barreling over the edge for a second time.

With a cry of his name, keening and louder than you intended, you came and Steve followed shortly after. You could feel the warmth of his spend, the twitch of his cock, as you settled for a long moment, and felt the tears stinging at the backs of your eyes.

Without so much as a second though, Steve lifted a hand to brush at your cheeks, careful not to press too hard, and swiped away the few that had fallen before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and shot you a teasing wink.

“Love it when you cry for me, babe,” he teased, though you wondered if he’d have the same reaction if he knew the tears were, at least in part, caused by the overwhelming flurry of emotion that had you questioning everything you knew. “Seeing the Ice Queen melt never gets old.”

“You’re such a dick, Stevie.” The huff was as playful as you could manage with your breath still coming in short pants and your stomach churning with emotion but he grinned just the same as he helped you off his lap.

“Think you mean, ‘you have such a great dick, Stevie’.” When you rolled your eyes, straightening out your clothes and attempting to smooth your hair, he laughed. “Oh, c’mon, not gonna say thank you for the incredible orgasms? Your parents raised you better than that, babe.”

“They raised me better than to fuck some rich asshole in the backseat of his car, but, here we are.” Steve followed your lead and began to straighten himself out, zipped his jeans and at least pretended not to stare as you settled your panties back into place, the fabric immediately darkening with his spend. “Speaking of, you should probably get me home, Romeo. It’s past curfew.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Steve simply tugged you back into his side, hand cradling your jaw as you both attempted to catch your breath.

The lie was obvious - your parents didn’t care very much how late you stayed out, even less when you were with Steve - and you knew that he knew who would be waiting for you to return home. However, you didn’t expect him to ask.

Steve’s touch was soft, though you could see the distaste in the set of his mouth as his fingers brushed the two marks beneath your jaw - one fresh and one fading. “What’re you doin’ with the freak, anyway?” He’d never asked, neither of you made it a habit to pry into the other’s personal life, but he seemed unable to help himself as he continued. “You know you could just buy weed, right? You don’t have to fuck him for it.”

“I don’t smoke,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into his touch. “Dunno,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as your hands worried with the hem of your skirt. “He’s exciting. Well, not really,” you amended because he wasn’t, “but he’s different. He’s just… Eddie. Doesn’t try to be something he’s not.” The slight was unintentional but you caught Steve’s slight wince, even as you barreled on. “And, I mean, it totally pisses off my dad every time he sees Eddie sneaking out because the guy’s a total fucking klutz and can’t leave without waking up half the neighborhood.” Steve scoffed, though you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it as he quickly covered the sound with a clearing of his throat before you added, as an afterthought, “And he listens to me. Not, like, pretends to.”

“I listen to you.”

While it wasn’t a lie - Steve listened, retained whatever you told him - neither of you were ever particularly honest with one another. Your conversations were never as serious as the ones you shared with Eddie, never as deep. For someone you considered your best friend, Steve barely knew anything about the real you. Though, that was as much your fault as it was his.

There was always a fear, deep and unfounded, that he might not like the real you. That if you were honest, that if you allowed him to see you for who you really were, that he might hate you. That he might leave. With Eddie, that didn’t matter very much. He was fun, a distraction, a taste of something forbidden and a glimpse into another life, but he was temporary. He could leave at any time, decide he didn’t like the real you and it might hurt for a moment but you would get over it quick. 

With Steve, it was your biggest fear.

Thinking that he might not like the real you, that he might suddenly change his mind and decide the real you wasn’t worth his time, was a fear that felt almost paralyzing. Steve’s opinion mattered, more than anyone else’s, so you held tight to the person you’d always been - the one he’d always at least tolerated - and never breathed so much as a word to the contrary.

Regardless, you humored him. “You do,” you agreed, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from his eyes. “But you kinda have to. And you also moaned Nancy’s name the first time we fucked so, like, that sorta cancels out some of the good stuff.” Steve flustered, cheeks flashing neon pink as he recalled the moment - a drunken hookup soon after his breakup, the first of what would become a regular occurrence - but before he could defend himself, you asked, “How’s that going, by the way? You figure out how to get her back from the creep?”

Steve shook his head, then, and sighed as he admitted, “Don’t think I even want to, anymore. Think I was just… She was right, maybe. We were kind of bullshit.”

The resigned misery in his voice was obvious, still upset by the hurtful declaration of a girl you knew he’d loved - in his own way, anyway - and you sighed as you rested your head against the seat cushion. “All of this is bullshit,” you shrugged. “High school, Hawkins, Indiana; none of it means anything.”

“We don’t mean anything?” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Steve sounded almost heartbroken - devastated to hear yet another person who meant something to him declare that he meant nothing - and you sighed as you grabbed the hand that rested on your thigh.

“You know I hate sentimentality,” you mumbled, unable to look him in the eye, “but you’re the only thing worth anything in my whole life. You could never be bullshit. Annoying, totally, but not bullshit. Never bullshit.”

There was a brief pause, a moment in which you both felt the weight of you admission pressing on your chests - stealing what little air seemed to remain in the car, windows still fogged and radio still playing too softly to really hear - before Steve swallowed. “You know I…” He cut himself off, paused and seemed to think better of voicing the thought aloud, before he asked, “You know, right?”

‘I love you,’ went unspoken, as it always had. It lingered, just beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to crack the ice and set it free. You knew, just as Steve did, that you were in something like love. Maybe not a love that would last forever, maybe not even a love that was ever meant to be, but it was there.

Warm, shiny and bright, and just waiting for you to stop pretending that things between you had ever been casual.

So, you nodded.

“Yeah,” you assured him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it gently. “I know. Me, too.”

Silence fell, then, thick and suffocating. It filled the interior of his car with a bitter chill and it struck you just how new that feeling was. It made you wonder what a future might be like, if you had one at all, and you found yourself mildly horrified at the idea that you could end up as either set of your parents. There was no world in which you could see a future without Steve at least somewhere in your life but there was no happiness in a world in which you both continued to pretend.

Either way, you were both stuck - caught up in a never-ending performance, an act for an audience that only existed in your minds.

What began as something effortless, something casual, had become so complicated that you no longer felt certain of much beyond the understanding that you loved Steve. How -  if you could love the real him, if you only loved the idea of him, if you loved the safety of him - was a question you had no answer to but before you could begin to even fathom it, the moment ended.

Steve pressed a final kiss to your mouth, bruising in a way that made your chest ache and your eyes sting with unshod tears, before he made his way to the driver’s seat.

And then, just as he had every night since he got his license, Steve drove you home. He pulled up to the door to let you out and didn’t mention the van he saw parked down the street. He squeezed your hand before you could step out into the night, three times in rapid succession, and lit a cigarette the moment you stepped out of the car. 

King Steve wasn’t one to fall in love easily, neither was the Ice Queen. But Steve Harrington wore his heart on his sleeve and that heart beat for you. Despite the distractions, the desperate attempts at finding something so disconnected from the cushioned prison of his gilded cage, he knew that it had been you all along. And just as neither of you mentioned the real people beneath the personas, neither of you mentioned just how real the love you shared had grown.

Loving one another, allowing yourselves to be vulnerable - to reveal the deepest, darkest secrets - was terrifying. Both of you feared what the other might think of the truth that lay beneath the crown so you agreed, silently, that to pretend was better than to face rejection.

So, Steve drove the few streets that separated your neighborhood from his and let himself into the empty house that meant nothing when his true home was likely sliding open a window to allow the only person he’d ever seen as true competition inside. And he wondered when the love of his life became a casual fling, when you both resigned yourselves to pretending that neither of you deserved something real - something true, something happy. He wondered why he carried on with it, knowing that in a few short weeks you would be in Boston, knee-deep in a life you hated, while he was stuck in Hawkins, wishing he’d had the courage to be himself and that he’d asked for something more than casual.

There was no satisfactory answer, not if he really thought about it, so he decided not to. 

The rest of the summer would be spent in the same way the last six months had. Steve would pretend to enjoy the parties and the attention of girls who only wanted him for his reputation. You would continue pretending that nothing fazed you, not even him. And things between you would remain casual. 

And he supposed that was just the way it was meant to be.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: Did you know there's a chance black beans will catch on fire in the microwave? 'Cause I didn't. Anyway. This was my first time writing 'King Steve' and I had so much fun. This was loosely inspired by Chappell Roan's Casual. And my love of both Steve and Eddie. :)

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Lovely Lady May

Happy Sunday everyone! Shout out to the anon who asked for this, sorry it took me so long I am terrible at writing endings… Hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Danny Wagner X fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ only!! Minors you don’t even want to look this direction. Breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (fem rec), lotsa dirty talk, food play, some persuasion if you see it that way, some plot, little editing

Word count: 6k

Danny Wagner. You’d had your eye on him for quite some time. He was perfect; thick head of hair, broad and sturdy frame, good facial bone structure. Yeah, he would do. Once you had decided it was him all that was left was to figure out how to approach him, win over his favor, get him to agree to what you wanted.

You knew Danny Wagner, had known him for years much like everyone knew everybody in this tiny Midwest town you’d all grown up in. He was a funny kid in high school, you never paid him much attention though admittedly you often had too much preoccupying your time back then.

In present time much of that distraction was gone. The youth did tend to leave this town while they could, leaving behind only those who had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do but stay home and find work. That’s exactly what you had done, in the years after high school you had opened a bakery in the tiny square downtown where all the wandering tourists from the next town over stopped for some gas along the way or found a cheaper place to stay.

Rent in town was cheap, that’s how you’d managed to secure your loft just above the bakery. It was small, quaint, but you had spent the last six years happily alone here making it your home. Happily that was until about a year ago when you decided that all you had in life just wasn’t enough anymore.

It started with seeing old friends finally coming back to visit family after settling down. Most of them had gotten married, and more than a few were already having kids.

It was the holiday season and you were up to your elbows in flour and sugar, scrambling to get all your orders done while also keeping the bakery itself stocked for the walk-in customers. Your high school best friend was in town, you’d almost forgotten until she walked through the door of the shop, one arm pushing the heavy glass door open while the other cradled a small bundle.

She had a baby, not even six weeks old yet, still wrinkly and warm and smelling like the sweet treats you made day in and day out. You spent the next three days visiting with her while she was in town, each time immediately plucking the babe from where it slept and placing it right in your arms. That’s when the baby fever started.

You thought it would go away, wanting a baby wasn’t exactly in the cards for you right now considering your last relationship ended the summer after senior year. As the months passed on though, you found yourself staring longingly at each little child that walked into your shop, eyes round and wide with excitement as they peered through the display cases of cookies and cakes.

It had only been a couple of months since you actually decided on going through with your plan. In fact you nearly considered forgetting it all together until you found the right person for the job.

Danny Wagner. He never left town either, opting to stay home and help his family with their business. An apple orchard right at the edge of the city limits.

You knew the place well since opening your shop, preferring to purchase local, organic, ingredients whenever you could.

At this time of year, weekly with the orders you placed from the orchard, your crates of freshly picked apples in their vibrant green, shades of red and orange, and yellows came delivered by Danny.

“A slice of apple pie today?” You called from over your shoulder as you transferred the dozen of honeycrips from their wooden crate to the large stainless sink in the back of the bakery to be washed and prepped later.

“If you’re offering” Danny replied with a smile on his face, a smile you’d grown quite accustomed to seeing when you started giving out a slice of apple pie after every delivery. It only seemed fair he got a piece considering it was his apples you used, and they really did make a difference.

With the crate cleared you pulled the wash towel from your apron and gave your hands a good drying before untying the cotton cloth from around your waist and setting it aside. “Do you have a minute?”

“Umm sure” Danny set the extra boxes of things you’d ordered on the counter next to your apron, curious about what you had in mind.

“I’m actually tweaking the recipe a little bit. Was wondering if you wanted to come upstairs and try it out for me?” You voice sounded calm and resolved, but you hoped Danny couldn’t see the slight tremble in your hands as you waved him over to the unassuming stairs that lead directly up to your loft.

Danny followed quietly, he had obviously never been up here before so he was busy taking in the surroundings when you reached the top. It gave you a bit of relief that he wasn’t paying too much attention to how you anxiously fluttered around the small kitchenette.

“I never realized you lived up here” Danny mentioned as his eyes scanned the open space, the only privacy it offered was a door to your bedroom and a door to the bathroom, everything else was right in sight from where he sat.

“What? You thought I could afford a business and my own place all on my own?” You joked. That was the normal atmosphere between you two, a lot of joking, a little flirting maybe if you squinted, but mostly just kindness.

“Well I’d say you’re doing pretty well for yourself regardless” Danny replied, finally turning his attention to you alone when he heard the sound of a knife cutting against a porcelain pie dish.

“Thanks”. You set the plate down in front of him, letting your hand brush across the top of his shoulders as you went back for the fork, waiting patiently as he took the first bite.

“Wow, if I didn’t already think you made the best damn apple pies I’ve ever had in my life, I sure do now”. He tried another larger taste, turning the fork sideways to slide through the flakey crust and scoop some of the filling into the perfect bite. A look of pure satisfaction washed over his face as he chewed. No matter how often he had your pies he did always seem to really enjoy them and it always made your day.

“So Danny…” you trailed off, trying to maintain your resolve to your goal as he continued on eating. “You would say we’re friends right?”

“Of course” he quickly replied after swallowing.

“So I can ask you something in confidence? Well, it’s a favor really”.

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a charming half smile, one that made you swoon just a little if you were completely honest with yourself. That was besides the point though, you had him here right where you wanted him and now you needed to focus. “Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Danny’s smile faded, though he didn’t seem upset, just curious again about where exactly this was going. “Sure, I have a little” he answered truthfully, adding more after a bit of consideration “I do want some, yeah”.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently” you admit, leaning against the counter so your still unsteady hands would have something to grip onto. You knew this was a big ask and it could go over very badly, but you had to try. “I want one, sooner rather than later. Problem is I’ve looked into IVF, it’s hella expensive and I don’t know if you know but owning a business doesn’t come with very good health insurance”.

It had all made sense in your head when you planned it out, finding a man to ask to be willing to make a baby with you, but when you tried to explain your thoughts out loud they started to sound less and less rational. Still, you pursued since you seemed to have kept his attention for this long. “I’ve been saving up for almost a year, and I have a friend that’s going to give her used baby stuff to me. All I need is someone willing to help me out…”

Danny was quiet again, his eyes falling to the crumbs on his plate for a moment as he thought. “Are you saying you want me to get you pregnant?”

You pressed your thighs together as you clenched around nothing. It wasn’t besides either of you exactly how that would have to come about, but even though the sex would be purely transactional it didn’t help that you’d come to find Danny extremely attractive and the way he spoke was already doing things to you that you weren’t prepared for.

“Yes, that is what I’m asking”. It was getting harder and harder to sound confident, your nerves finally taking completely over as you scrambled to plead your case. “I wouldn’t expect anything from you obviously. I’ll have plenty of support from my family and I’m looking at getting a bigger place soon. No one will ever have to know you’re the biological father”.

Danny stood slowly and your heart sank, expecting he was preparing to leave because your idea was actually crazy. Instead he only stood there, his height exceeding yours by a few inches but the way he awkwardly slouched a little and rubbed at his bare upper arms made him seem less intimidating and more approachable.

You took the step forward, reaching out for one of his hands to cradle in your own, a simple touch you hoped would show him how grateful you were for his consideration. “You don’t have to give me an answer now, but would you think about it? For me?”

With the closer distance between you two now you could see the way Danny’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. His eyes fell down your body for a moment as a shuddering breath escaped him. “When,” he began, shaking his head softly and bringing his gaze back up to meet yours dead on, “when do you want to try this?”

Your heart felt like it stopped, was he seriously agreeing? Danny was always a nice guy, a people pleaser, a hard worker, and an all around joy, but even then a part of you still expected him to at least politely decline.

“I’m ovulating right now actually” you blurted out. Yeah, that was a real mood setter.

Danny chuckled, the sweet sound jumpstarting your drive. “Right now?” His dark brows raised in playful question, his hand in yours turning over to sneak up your arm and pull you closer. “Are there any rules in this agreement?”

“Rules?” You mumbled, the feeling of his fingers gripping into your waist making your knees already feel weak.

“I mean is this just a one time thing and if it works it works, if it doesn’t it doesn’t? I’m not going to stand here and lie to you by saying I haven’t thought about being with you like this”. Danny seemed a little shy to admit his secret, but it only ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. “I mean maybe not exactly like this, but you know what I mean”.

“Really?” You breathed, allowing your hands now to come up and rest on his shoulders, playing with the torn up hem of his cut off sleeves. “I never knew”.

“Well now you do” he smiled again, dipping his head down so that the very tip of his nose brushed against your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered closed, preparing for the kiss you expected, but Danny only moved to whisper into your ear. “So I ask again, are there any rules?”

You thought about it for a moment, coming up with something on the spot since, surprisingly, you’d seemed to have thought of everything else but this. “For now this stays between us, we act perfectly casual around each other”. Danny nodded, finally pressing a warm plush lipped kiss to the spot behind your ear. You tilted your head back, giving him more access to roam across your neck. “While we’re doing this, no one else”.

“There is no one else” Danny mumbled against your pulse point, his other hand coming up to thread his fingers through your hair.

“Good. And most importantly, no pulling out”.

In one swift blurry motion, Danny grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up, walking back to the counter where he plopped you back down and immediately connected his lips to yours. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you kissed him back hungrily and desperately.

“Did you wear this for me then?” Danny asked as he slipped a hand between your bodies, sliding his palm up your inner thigh and underneath the hem of your floral dress. You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you leaned back to watch him explore.

“Easy access” he grinned as the tips of his fingers found the lace trim of your panties, and you gasped when he suddenly pressed his thumb to your heat, smirking at how wet you already were.

“Danny” you whined at how delicious the friction was even with the thin layer of cotton still in the way. “Are you going to play with me or are you going to give me what I want?”

“Oh I’m going to play with you” he chuckled again, his fingers pulling your panties aside to gather up your slick. “If we’re going to do this it might as well be fun right?”

Your brows furrowed, on one hand you wanted him to take this seriously. Having a baby was all you wanted right now and you were clearly prepared to do whatever it took. On the other hand, you thought he was right. You were sure you had read somewhere that the better the quality of the sex was, the higher the chances of conception were. So what was the harm?

With Danny still smirking at you as he circled his fingers around everywhere but where you really wanted him, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him back into a searing kiss. Danny groaned against your mouth and finally plunged two of his fingers inside, making your mouth fall open with a moan at the unexpected stretch.

“Yeah? That feel good?” Danny questioned in a faintly demeaning tone that made your brain go fuzzy for a few seconds.

You held onto his bicep tightly, the shiny polish coincidentally named ‘apple red’ on your nails contrasting with the way his skin turned pearly white under your grip. “Fuck, yeah that does feel good” you agreed with the breath in your lungs slipping away with each thrust of his fingers deeper into you. “But I bet you’d feel even better”.

“Patience sweetheart” Danny smiled, slowing his movements to give you room to breathe. “In time. But first…” he glanced around the counter you were still spread out on, his eyes zeroing in on a bowl covered in plastic wrap right within reach.

One hand with his fingers still buried deep inside you, Danny pulled the bowl closer to look at what was inside. “Is this the new recipe?” He questioned, seeing the thick caramel colored filling.

It was ridiculous he was concerned with that at this moment, but you played along anyway, taking the break to regain your composure so that you could continue to rival his attitude. “It is, did you like it? Though I have to admit it was mostly part of the plot to get you up here”

“Figured” Danny chuckled, shaking his head again. “I did, but do you mind if I ruin this batch?”

“What?” You were confused, not following his train of thought at all. “No, I don’t mind?”

Without another word he retreated his fingers only to lift the plastic off the bowl and dip inside. The look of pure shock you had on your face when he licked his fingers clean of both the pie filling and your juices mixed together had to be entertaining, because he chuckled even harder and leaned in to give you a taste.

While he kissed you, tongue lapping into your mouth, Danny found the buttons to the front of your dress and slowly undid them one by one, allowing the flowy fabric to slip open and expose your chest. “No bra? You’re making this too easy”.

“You prefer a challenge?” You giggled in return.

“No, this is good”. Danny leaned back, admiring your tits from a little distance before sticking his fingers back into the bowl beside you and smearing some of the filling onto your left nipple.

When his mouth connected with your chest you grabbed at his hair. Before you had always wondered how soft it would be, and now with your fingers weaving tightly through dense curls you were glad to say it was indeed very soft and smelled woodsy-sweet.

Once he had you nice and clean, your nipple now perky and covered in a sheen of saliva, Danny lathered up the right side with enough filling this time that it was dripping down your breast and onto your stomach. Danny held eye contact with you as he lowered himself, his tongue coming out to lick up the mess he’d made and then latched onto your nipple again, humming in satisfaction as it hardened up just as the other had.

Content with getting you cleaned off again, Danny lowered himself even further until he was on his knees before you, his hands diving back up your dress to find the waistband of your panties so that he could pull them off this time.

You braced yourself on your hands against the countertop and lifted your hips slightly to help, but before you could fully sit back down Danny wrapped his hand around your hip and pulled you right to the very edge. For extra support he let your legs come to rest on his shoulders, his face disappearing between your thighs as his mouth met your center.

Your back arched and your head met the cabinets with a dull thud as you held your moan in this time. Just like with his fingers, Danny didn’t waste any time in letting his tongue enter you, it’s pointed tip reaching as far as it could go. His nose pressed against the hood of your clit and you couldn’t help the groan that did come out when he started to shake his head side to side.

“Danny you’re gonna make me cum like that” you whined, sure that he could feel the way your legs started to shake and threatened to clamp shut around him.

Danny spoke quickly so that he wasn’t parted from you long enough to lose how close you were to your high. “Give it to me. I want to taste how sweet you are before I fill you up”.

“Ah fuck!” you cried out just as the band that had been tightening in the pit of your stomach snapped. You were unsure what had ultimately done it, the way he worked harder to get you there, or the salacious words spilled so freely from his dirty mouth. Either way your mind was still spinning with the after effects of your orgasm when he stood up and started unbuttoning his pants.

“Are you ready for me then?” He asked as you watched him through hooded eyes while he pulled himself from his boxers, stroking his hardened length a few times to smear his precum- not that he needed the extra lubricant, you were dripping at this point.

“Get over here and give it to me already”.

Danny clicked his tongue, but he moved back between your legs anyways, using the grip on his shaft to run the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “Still impatient. I’ll put a baby in you sweetheart don’t you worry”.

Before you could say anything else to counter his cheeky remark, Danny thrust his hips up into you until his base met your entrance. You thought you might have cum again just then by how wet you were around him, but you knew it was only because he turned you on more than you’d ever been before.

“God! Right there!” You threw one arm around his shoulders, your legs hooking back around his waist as his hips snapped back and forth knocking you against the cabinets. It was a good thing you’d flipped the sign in the window downstairs from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ when Danny arrived today, otherwise you were sure any customers who had stumbled in at this time would’ve heard you getting your world rocked above them.

“It’s gonna feel so good to cum in you” Danny groaned. You were unsure if he was still speaking to you, or if he was just rambling on to himself now by the way his voice came out breathy and strained. He had hands on your thighs, using his grip as leverage to keep his upwards thrusts just hard enough that you were seeing stars as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back.

Before long you were feeling like you were going to let go again, and he could feel the way your walls fluttered and clenched around him. Danny came first, slamming into you once more and then you felt the flood of warmth, the wild twitching of his length buried deep inside as he unloaded in you just like you’d asked.

“Hold on, let me look at you”. Danny hooked his thumbs under your dress and bunched it up at your waist then leaned back as he slowly began to slide out, still hard and throbbing. He watched in awe as his release started to dribble down, a sight he’d never had the pleasure of seeing before.

“Danny” you whimpered, still wound up from being so close to cumming yourself again.

He knew exactly what you wanted, and he could have teased you about it, but he wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Pushing in again, he fucked his cum back into you a few times until you were shaking as your second orgasm rocked through you.

“How are you doing?” The kindness in Danny’s voice returned and he helped tuck your tousled hair behind your ears as he kissed gently at your cheeks.

“Good…” you sighed, your body starting to relax again, “I’m doing good, thanks”.

“So do you think it’s gonna work?”

You thought maybe you could hear a bit of hopefulness, but you shook it off as your own will manifesting. “I guess we will find out in a couple of weeks”.

“You’ll let me know?” He was genuine when he asked, almost like he was afraid you’d choose to go through this alone even though you’d assured him you’d have plenty help.

“Sure” you nod your head and he helped you off the counter before retrieving your underwear from the floor. You didn’t even bother putting them back on, a shower was definitely within order before getting back to work.

“Well, see you around then?” He lingered by the door to the stairs, glancing around your apartment a few more times.

“Yeah Danny, I’ll see you around”. You held the door open for him, confident he could make his way back down to the large kitchen at the back of the bakery and out the way he always came in. “Again, thank you”.

He offered one last smile that warmed your heart to the core, “don’t mention it”.

Three days passed and you went about your life like normal. Of course you wanted to believe that it had worked, that you were cooking up your own little bun in the oven as you loaded trays of cookies into the ones at the shop.

Danny was always around, he made deliveries in town nearly everyday, usually always about noon, but today it was nearly six in the evening when the bell to the front door rang. You turned around, your face lighting up when you saw it was Danny paying you a visit.

“Closing soon?” He asked as he watched you cleaning up, broom in hand and a damp rag around your shoulder with glass cleaner stuffed in your pocket.

“In a little while. What can I do for you?” You set the broom aside, but finished buffing off the tiny fingerprints on the display case, smiling at the memory of the little boy who had excitedly picked out a chocolate muffin. If you had a boy would he like chocolate as much as this little one had? Or maybe a girl who liked strawberry.

“My dad said you hadn’t placed an order for next week yet. He wanted to know if he needed to set anything aside for you”.

“Oh, right”. A part of you had wished Danny was stopping by specifically to check in on you, but even if he was just here on business it was nice to see him. “Sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind recently. Let me go check in the back, I’m sure I can make a list right quick”.

Danny had shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a little out of place in your shop now even though he’d been here half a million times over the last few years.

You sensed his trepidation and exhaled through your nose. “Hey, I made some lemonade this morning. Want some?”

A bit of his awkwardness subsided, his charmful half smile returning as he followed you into the bakery kitchen. You finished off the picture of lemonade with two glasses, one for you and one for him, and started the search through your cabinets. Honestly you really already knew what you needed to order, same as usual a dozen of honeycrisps, a dozen granny smith, a dozen gala, two pounds of walnuts, peaches and blackberries were about to be done for the season so you’d get whatever you could, and it was about to be that time of year to start harvesting some beautiful pumpkin for bread and pie and even roasted seeds. Even so you fiddled around just to keep Danny here for a bit longer, at least so he could enjoy his refreshment.

“How have things been up there at the orchard?” You asked, trying to make polite conversation as you took out a pen and paper and scribbled your order.

“Busy as always, weathers been beautiful this week though so I can’t complain much”. He took another sip of his lemonade. Looked like maybe he was trying to make it last as well.

We’re talking about the weather… you shook your head and he raised a questioning brow. “Actually,” Danny moved closer to where you stood, glancing at your paper like he hadn’t delivered that order to you plenty of times and had it practically memorized. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to come over for dinner?”

“Dinner at the orchard? Like with your parents or something” you scoffed a little. You ask a man to creampie you one time and he wants to take you home to mom and dad.

“I mean we can invite them if you want” he chuckled himself, “but umm, no I was thinking it would just be us. I live in a townhouse not far away. Then maybe afterwards I can give you a little tour of the place”.

Danny’s hand boldly graced your lower back as he leaned in closer, his chest nearly making context with your shoulders. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking about you nonstop”.

“Thinking about me? Or about our last visit?” You countered, arching your back so that your ass pressed up against his front.

“Both” he sucked in a breath, his hand coming around to grip your hip, but he didn’t pull you any closer, just dug his fingers into the waistband of your skirt. How convenient you’d planned on wearing it today without even knowing he’d be stopping by.

“Well, I’ve got another half an hour before closing. I suppose I can meet you there”. Danny had agreed to your favor, the least you could do was accept a dinner invitation.

Danny lowered his head and placed a kiss at the nape of your neck before taking a step back and composing himself. “I don’t mind waiting”.

“Suit yourself” you shrugged, tearing the page you had written on out of your notebook and folding it in half a few times. You turned around and approached him yourself and he looked excitedly expecting as you came chest to chest with him. “You’re going to help me close up then”.

Reaching around you stuffed the list into his back pocket then placed a chaste kiss to his cheek before returning to cleaning up.

With your belly full of dinner you stepped out of Danny’s truck, the kitten heel of your shoe coming into contact with gravel that broke way to lush grass as far as the eye could see becoming covered in a layer of leaves with the beginnings of the changing season. The air smelled crisp out here, earthy and sweet just like Danny’s beautiful curls.

You tried not to think of that now as he delightedly took your hand, guiding you off into the rows of apple trees that the property had earned its namesake for.

Danny whisked you around the place he’d called home his entire life, explaining to you exactly how growing apple trees worked, the science behind it, and even shared a few stories that had you giggling and taking his hand for more.

“Thanks for coming” he finished his tour with a walk through the barn that held all their order packing supplies. Crates that were easily recognizable as the ones Danny carried over his shoulder from his truck bed to your shop door, and piles of straw to stuff them with to keep the apples from bruising. A large table next to boxes stacked on boxes of mason jars ready to be filled and sent off to their eager recipients.

“Thanks for inviting me” you replied, moving to rest against the table. It was still early in the night, but you’d been up since six baking away before the shop opened, and you’d definitely worn the wrong shoes for this excursion. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always” Danny replied, keeping his distance for now, but staring longingly at you from across the open room.

“I’ve been thinking about you too. I quite enjoyed the last time I saw you”. The lights that were strung up in the pillars reflected in his eyes and you could’ve sworn you saw blush pinken his cheeks.

“That so?” He smirked, pushing off the pillar he had chosen to lean on.

“Was it not obvious?” You added, smiling as he made his way over to you again. “I mean I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I asked you for that, but you definitely delivered”.

“So,” He was right in front of you now, his eyes scanning over the length of your body as you tried to take some weight off your feet, “I know it’s only been a few days, but do you feel any different?”

You giggled, finding it cute that he wanted to know already. He seemed even more restless than you were to know if the fruits of your labor had produced. “No, nothing yet”.

“Well, maybe, if you want I mean, we could try again? For good measure?”

“Yeah?” You raised your brows and bit your lip, looking around to see if there was anything you should be weary of in the quiet barn. “Right now?” You matched the state of surprise he had when you’d asked him the same thing up in your apartment a few days ago.

“Everyone’s gone home for the night. The only thing left to worry about is how I’m going to focus at work when I remember fucking you on this table”.

“You’ll have to fuck me on this table first for that to happen Danny”.

He breached the last gap between you, cupping your face as your lips smashed together. Both of your hands went to work riding each other of as much clothing as possible, breaking the kiss only for your shirts to be peeled off and tossed somewhere to be retrieved later. Danny pulled you from your lounging position, hooking his thumbs into your skirt and panties together and pulling them down for you to step out of before lifting you back onto the table and connecting your mouths again.

You groaned as he worked to unbutton his pants, already aching to feel him inside you again. Danny parted from you to get his pants off, and when he returned he gripped your breasts, actually covered with a thin lacy bra this time, and pushed you back to lay against the polished wood.

“You’re going to be beautiful pregnant” Danny mused as he pressed kisses to your clavicle and chest.

“Danny please” you whined, reaching around to grab at his bottom, digging your blunt nails into the round of his asscheek.

“You want me to cum in you again?” He muttered against your neck, making his way up to tickle your ear with his nose and nip at your jaw. “Make sure you have my baby, hmm?”

You pulled him down, connecting your lips to his shoulder and then biting down to encourage him to hurry up already. When he entered you again the moan that ripped through you was muffled into his skin, but his voice echoed through the rafters as he quickly set a rough pace.

Danny pried your arms from him so that he could straighten up and get a good look at you from the way your tits bounced in time with his thrusts, to the way he disappeared so easily completely inside you. “Look at this pretty pussy, crying so sweetly for me”.

Your words were beside you, lost in a jumble in your head as the pleasure took over, but you held eye contact with him and nodded vigorously. Danny slowed for just a moment, spitting into his hand and easily finding your swollen sensitive clit with his fingers.

Your back arched off the table and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore as Danny continued pounding into you and working his fingers at the same time. So close already, but it felt like long enough since the last time you’d had him.

With a newfound burst of energy, you gripped your chest, pinching your hardened nipples through the lace of your bra as your eyes fell shut and you felt your impending release building tight in your stomach. “Fuck Danny, I want to cum together. Please, I need to feel it!”

“Here it is sweetheart, just for you. Take it” he grunted as his hips staggered, and you whined his name one more time as your legs held him in place until both your orgsams were over.

“It definitely worked that time, had to” Danny chuckled as he helped you clean up as best he could.

“Danny?” You turned to him, your chest still feeling tight despite the rest of your body being weakened and wobbly as you stood from the table. “Do you think I’ll be a good mom?”

Danny looked surprised by your question, not that you had asked him of all people, but because there was still any doubt within you. He swallowed hard, trying to decide if what he wanted to say would be taking things too far, but ultimately deciding you guys had been so intimate already, what was a little feelings being added to the mix? “I think I wouldn’t want anyone else to mother one of my children”.

You blushed hard, moving to give him another grateful kiss. “You know, I think you’d make a great Dad too”.

@musicislove3389

[thebearchives]

to live a lifetime with you | CL16

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

REQUESTED: [] yes [X] no

WORD COUNT: 7.8k

SYNOPSIS: after twenty-six years together, it only made sense that charles would want to live out the rest of his life with you by his side.

WARNINGS: mentions of death (jules + charles' father), mattia being a decent human being at the end (sorry its for plot only), probably so many sentences that make no sense, time skips galore, me writing about love without having ever experienced it, french translations

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

to say that you and charles were childhood sweethearts would be an understatement, really.

you and charles had known each other since the two of you were born basically, with your parents moving in next door to the leclercs not long after your birth. charles had only just started standing on his own two feet at seven months, while your own six-month-old self had discovered the art of scooting your bum around to get from one place to another. 

at the time, lorenzo was absolutely obsessed with all things relating to his baby brother, and when he saw the new neighbours walk into the empty house with a small baby girl nibbling on a cookie, he was ecstatic, running up to his mom and telling her that they could set up play dates for charles and you. honestly, if it wasn’t for lorenzo’s insistence, you were sure that you and charles would not have been where you were today.

it helped that your parents and charles’ parents became fast friends. growing up, your families did everything together. vacations, celebrations, holidays, anything and everything you could think of. the two of you grew up sharing everything, from toys to food, and everything in between. the only thing you hadn’t shared with one another was the fact that charles had a brother, and you did not.

when arthur was born, you had cried to your parents every day and night about wanting a baby sister. as a soon-to-be three-year-old, you had no idea that your parents were unable to have more children, receiving nothing but sad smiles when you continuously asked for another sibling.

nonetheless, you had quickly taken to arthur leclerc. and much like lorenzo had felt for charles, you and charles felt for arthur. instead of playing with charles, you were now focused on the new baby in pascale’s arms and how tiny he was. looking back, pascale would always reminisce how you and charles were horrible for her heart when arthur was a baby, always handing the small boy even smaller toys. arthur himself would always bring up the times the two of you tried to “kill” him as a baby, always finding it funny how you and charles defended yourselves.

you’d learned quite early on that charles was a strange kid. and rude, if your four-year-old self were to add. the two of you would always play together, and while you two shared all your toys with one another, charles drew the line at your barbies. 

on his fourth birthday, pascale and hervé had bought charles a remote control car, and he had instantly rushed off to go play with it, pulling you along. he had run over your barbie doll that day, after having fought with you about how it was his birthday and he didn’t want to play with girly dolls. a few days later, charles had ‘accidentally’ ripped ken’s head off of his body, leaving you in a mess of distressed sobs and tears. 

lorenzo could still remember the way you had knocked and entered his room, fat tears rolling down your chubby cheeks as you presented the headless figurine to him and jules who had been hanging out with the eldest leclerc. you had begged either of them to fix it, and while jules took the doll from your hands, lorenzo went off to find his younger brother and scold him for ruining your toys. instead of in his room, lorenzo found charles leaning over arthur’s crib, explaining to the youngest how cars were much cooler than your barbies. arthur, of course, had no idea what his brother had been telling him, too focused on figuring out how he could eat the plastic car in his hand.

since then, however, charles had been a lot more willing to play with your dolls, and soon enough, the driver’s seat in his remote control car was filled with your new ken doll that the leclercs had bought for your own birthday. charles would drive his car up to your small dollhouse, and then the passenger seat would get filled as well, with your favourite barbie doll sitting next to ken as they drove off to charles’ racetrack set up. 

life was always filled with compromises and balance for charles and yourself, and as you two got older, your friendship became stronger and less of the cat and mouse relationship you had when you were four. when you two started school, you were lucky enough to be put in the same class, and at every parent-teacher conference, your teacher always said the same thing to your parents; vos enfants parlent toujours entre eux, jamais aux autres. your children are always talking to each other, never to others.

the two of you became attached at the hip, so one can imagine the turmoil you felt when charles decided to take up racing like jules, and left you all alone at your shared desk while he karted along the tracks of france. you were even more upset when charles came back talking about a french boy named pierre. you had decided then, with both jules and pierre taking charles away from you, that you hated french people. 

during the time that charles began karting, your parents were often asked to house either lorenzo or arthur, sometimes even both, while pascale and hervé took the middle child to his races. you’d grown especially close to arthur and lorenzo during those times, and your parents had countless pictures of you and the youngest leclerc playing dress-up before bedtime.

when you met pierre, you had given him the cold shoulder, much like you had been giving jules whenever he came to visit. you were especially angry when pierre had been invited to join your vacations, but you couldn’t help but feel bad when charles looked at both of you with a sad look on his face. he wanted both of his friends to be friends too.

more years passed, and the resentment you had towards both frenchmen faded as you realized just how happy racing made charles. and when arthur started joining his brother some days, you never gave yourself the chance to feel upset, already begging your parents to let you miss a day of school so you could watch both brothers race on the same track.

you were twelve when you decided that you wanted to be involved in charles’ racing life. having grown up with hervé leclerc telling you and his kids stories about his own racing days, and having seen the leclercs and the gasly boy race on many tracks, it felt almost inevitable that you would follow a route in a similar field as them.

you had been sitting in your science class when you had your epiphany. you had listened in on jules and lorenzo talking about racing and the physics behind racing the night before, and when your teacher mentioned the word physics during the lesson, you realized that maybe, instead of racing yourself, you could join charles behind the scenes.

as charles made his way up the ranks in racing, you put your head down and studied hard to get the highest grades in your class. long gone were the days when your teachers would complain to your parents about you and charles talking so much, instead, they now focused on how you excelled in science. 

the leclercs had been just as happy for your accomplishments as they had been for their own family members. if anything, lorenzo couldn’t help but feel protective over you, going as far as to sit charles down and help him realize just how much of your life you were changing to fit in with his lifestyle. 

after that talk, thirteen-year-old charles spent hours in your room asking you if you were sure that engineering was what you wanted to do, and that he didn’t want to ruin your dreams just because of his own. you had giggled at his ever so slightly puberty-ridden voice, explaining just how sure you were that your future was going to be in engineering. 

when puberty hit the two of you, your relationship dynamic changed ever so slightly. no more sleepovers in the same room, or talking about everything that happened to one another. suddenly, you’d find yourself laying in your bed, a science textbook laying next to you haphazardly as you wondered if the shock you felt from charles’ fingers brushing against your arm was static electricity or if you were experiencing the same feelings as the girls in the books you read did. charles himself, wasn’t fairing all too well, blushing from time-to-time when pierre would call you his girl friend–yes, with the space. 

but alas, the two of you were oblivious to the growing and changing feelings between you two, brushing it off as just friends being friends. your parents had all exchanged glances when they caught you two sharing shy smiles, and lorenzo and jules couldn’t help but feel excited for the younger boy. arthur had gone as far as asking charles why his cheeks were red after you had left to go to the bathroom. the youngest leclerc had been pushed off the sofa and could be seen with teary eyes and a bruised elbow in the pictures from that barbecue night.

you were sixteen when you realized you harboured feelings for your best friend. you watched from the sidelines as charles transitioned to single-seaters, won races and made podiums with fortec. your realization had hit you while you watched him land his first podium, hugging pascale in absolute elation. the mother of the boy would later go on to tell you she could see the look on your face that day, and how she knew instantly that you knew you were in love.

you never reacted on your feelings, not wanting to ruin your relationship with charles. to him, you two were just best friends, and you would rather be his friend than lose him altogether. after all, losing him didn’t just mean living life without charles by your side. 

losing charles meant losing all the leclercs; pascale, hervé, lorenzo, and arthur. losing him meant losing pierre. losing jules, the dumb frenchman who was smart enough to figure out how you felt for the leclerc boy. the one that always pushed your buttons yet was there to help you out just like he had done all those years ago with your broken ken doll. and yet, even without telling charles how you truly felt, you ended up losing jules anyway. 

that day, you’d been at the leclerc household like always, watching the japan grand prix with the whole family. as tradition, you and charles had been wearing the team shirts that jules had given everyone at the start of the season. your eyes had been stuck to the screen as you watched jules’ crash, heart instantly plummetting to the bottom of your stomach as everyone let out gasps.

that same night, you had begged lorenzo to let you go with him when he left to go see jules’, but he had given you a sad smile and told you that he’d call you as soon as he was with jules so that you could talk to him as soon as he was able to. neither of your parents said anything when you followed charles into his room at night, holding his body tightly as you prayed that jules would be alright. no one said anything the next morning when they noticed the dark patches on your shoulder, or how your shirt had been crinkled as if someone had been holding onto it all night.

on july 17, you had decided that you would forever keep your feelings to yourself. losing jules was like losing your older brother, and you were sure that you would never be able to handle his loss along with the loss of charles. as you stood in your black dress, you had cried silently, apologizing to jules for going against his wishes and hiding your feelings once more. your heart ached when charles cried beside you, reaching a hand out to hold his. 

charles and yourself never went back to normal, for normal included lorenzo and jules picking at the two of you while your cheeks flushed red, or sending an unsuspecting arthur to spy on you two to see what you guys were doing. instead, the two of you had found a new normal, one that involved sharing sleepless nights reminiscing in your memories with jules, falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

days turned into weeks, which turned into months and years, and your feelings for your next door neighbour continued to grow. charles, however, remained entirely oblivious, both to your feelings and his own. he had been making big moves in the racing world, winning the title in gp3, and moving onto his first season in f2. you’d celebrated his entry into the f1 world as a haas developmental driver, and in turn, he celebrated the completion of your first year of university.

things were finally starting to look up, and then hervé fell ill. you watched from the back of the hospital room as his eyes lost a little bit of life every day. you watched as charles would hide his tears and smile at his dad, hoping to see him back in good health.

for your entire summer break, you’d find yourself staying at the leclerc household for multiple hours a day, sleeping over most of the nights. charles distanced himself from you, focusing on his racing, recounting his races with hervé for hours until a nurse would come in and tell him he’d have to leave. you couldn’t find it within yourself to be upset with him, knowing that right now, he didn’t need you, he needed his dad.

during this time, you had gotten exceptionally close to arthur, finding him sitting in his dark room crying silently as he thought about his dad. you would lay with him at night, letting the youngest wrap his arms around you while he shared how scared he was. you wished you could take his pain away, but you knew you couldn’t, instead opting to wipe away his tears and kissing his forehead.

you watched charles waste away, wishing you could reach out to him every time you saw him. he had lost his smile, the shine in his eyes dimming with every hour he spent watching his father whither away. by the end of the second week, you had decided you couldn’t simply watch him from afar, letting yourself into his room one night when you heard loud sniffles.

he didn’t move when you rested your hand against his back, and he didn’t resist when you pulled him into your side. at the feeling of your arms around him, his sniffles turned into broken cries and he sobbed against your clavicle. you stayed quiet, letting the boy blubber out words about how he tried so hard to stay strong but that he couldn’t anymore. you didn’t tell him it would be okay, you knew it wouldn’t. hervé was getting sicker and you feared that you would all experience loss once more.

when he had calmed down, the two of you laid down in his bed, charles’ head resting against your chest. his fingers fiddled with the bottom of your shirt, touching the skin of your back every so often. 

“je lui ai dit que j'avais signé avec ferrari,” his voice was quiet, barely louder than a whisper. i told him i signed with ferrari,

your hand found its way to his head, twirling the strands with your fingers, “comment a-t-il réagi?” how did he react?

charles’ voice broke, “il était si heureux pour moi,” his arms tightened around you, “mais je lui ai menti.” he was so happy for me, but i lied to him.

“maman est contrariée, elle a dit que je n'aurais pas dû mentir,” he sniffled, “mais je lui ai dit que j'avais signé pour 2019. je ne voulais pas mentir alors je me suis donné du temps. je veux que cela se produise.” mom is upset, said i shouldn’t have lied, but i told him i signed for 2019. i didn’t want to lie so i gave myself time. i want to make it happen.

“tu as le temps, char,” you used your hand to pull his head back, “tu as deux ans pour en faire une réalité.” you’ve got time, char, you’ve got two years to make it a reality.

his eyes glistened with tears, “mais c’est ferrari.” but it’s ferrari.

“je suis un fils horrible,” he looked away, “je lui ai menti.” i’m a horrible son, i lied to him

“tu n'es pas un fils horrible, charles,” you moved to hold his face in your hands, “tu ne l'es pas.” you are not a horrible son, charles. you’re not.

“je ne veux pas qu'il s'inquiète,” his tears slipped under your palms, “je veux qu'il parte en sachant que je peux subvenir aux besoins de notre famille.” i just don’t want him to worry. want him to leave knowing i can support our family.

your heart broke for him, “charles.”

“je veux juste qu'il soit fier de moi.” i just want to make him proud.

you leaned forward and placed gentle kisses against his closed eyelids, “il est et sera toujours fier de toi.” he has and will always be proud of you. 

a week later, you stood a few feet away from charles, tears spilling from your eyes as you wore another black dress. hervé had passed away with his family by his side, telling his boys to look after their mother. your own parents stood silently beside you, tears slipping down their own faces as well. 

after the service, you sat with the leclerc boys on the porch outside. charles’ arm pressed against yours, while arthur sat between your legs, head in your hands where you combed through his hair. lorenzo sat near the front door, keeping an eye out for his mother who sat on the couch, resting against your own mother. not a word was shared, all of you mourning in silence. 

your relationship with charles turned delicate, walking on eggshells whenever you wanted to talk to him. charles was stuck in his head, he had a job to do. you had pushed and pushed to tell him to not race in baku until he exploded, yelling at you for not understanding.

“je n'ai pas le temps de ne pas courir, y/n!” his hands were tugging at his hair, “je lui ai promis que j'avais une place chez ferrari mais je ne l'ai pas. je ne peux pas me permettre de ne pas courir, je dois aller chez ferrari.” i don't have the time to not race, y/n! i promised him i had a spot in ferrari but i don't. i can't afford to not race, i need to get to ferrari. 

and so you watched him race his heart out in baku, joining the leclerc family on their trip to azerbaijan. you watched as his sadness and despair poured into his racing. he was fast, enough speed to win the race he had dedicated to his father. his eyes had met yours while he stood at the podium and he felt himself look at you differently for the first time, his father’s words ringing in his head as he watched you smile at him with teary eyes.

it had been a couple days after charles had told hervé about his signing with ferrari when hervé asked charles to sit down and talk with him. his voice was weak and his hand shook as he reached out to grab his son’s hand.

he had smiled, “mon garçon, maintenant que tu as signé avec ferrari, pourquoi ne pas enfin te poser?” my boy, now that you've signed with ferrari, why don't you finally settle down?

“se poser?” charles had been confused, “papa, je n'ai même pas encore 20 ans.” settle down? dad, i’m not even 20 yet.

“l'amour n'a pas d'âge requis,” hervé’s laugh turned into a cough. love has no required age.

“je ne suis même pas amoureux, qu'est-ce que tu dis?” charles helped his father drink water. i'm not even in love, what are you saying?

hervé leaned back, giving his son a fond look, “mon garçon, tu es amoureux de ta meilleure amie depuis que tu l'as laissée jouer avec tes voitures télécommandées.” my boy, you have been in love with your best friend ever since you let her play with your remote control cars.

charles had since waved off his dad’s words, blaming them on his sickness. he had got it all wrong, you were his friend. nothing more, nothing less. 

yet as he stood there, looking at you for the first time since you had fought about this very race, he realized that there was something about you that made him feel like no one else could. is this what love is, papa?, he had asked as he held the trophy over his head.

less than a month later, you found yourself sitting in your room, smiling down at your phone. charles had sent you a picture of himself, dressed in ferrari red, ready to participate in the mid-season testing. charles was almost there, another step closer to his dreams. 

another month passed and now, you were preparing for your move to university dorms, third year looming around the corner. charles asked if you would like to go to mala beach with him. you’d agreed and the two of you sat in front of the bright turquoise sea, a comforting silence between you two.

“j'ai été signé,” charles had broken the silence. i got signed.

you whipped your head to him, “to ferrari?!”

charles let out a small laugh, shaking his head before looking back at you, “sauber, i’ll be starting with them in the new season.”

“c'est incroyable, char,” you gave him a wide smile, “you’re finally in f1.” that’s amazing.

charles returned your smile with one a bit smaller, “just hope i can make it to ferrari next season.”

“you will, i believe you can do it,” you leaned over and nudged me, “save me a spot in the pit wall, yeah? i’ll be waiting on your call for the 2020 season.”

charles had laughed, “of course, i will. lorenzo would have my head if i didn’t.”

“lorenzo is a smart man.”

the conversation died and you two focused back on the view in front of you. charles was nervous. he had invited you to the beach to do more than just tell you about his career. he wanted to confess to you. 

the last few months had been painful— hard— but you made it better with just a single look. after the race in baku, charles realized that he had loved you for a lot longer than he had let on. he loved you when you wore his shirt to school, running late after a sleepover. he loved you when he walked in on you and jules talking about the physics of racing. he loved you when he watched you help arthur with his math homework. he loved you when you had held him close and kissed his puffy eyes, and every single time you told him you were proud of him.

he loved you since the moment he realized what love was, even if he thought it was platonic at the time.

a finger pressed against the middle of his eyebrows, “vous réfléchissez très fort, perceval.” you’re thinking quite hard.

charles’ brows unfurrowed, but a pout graced his lips at the sound of his middle name. ever since you learned of his full name, you had taken to calling him by a different name for certain situations. perceval was for when you were teasing him. he had complained many times that he hated it when you called him that, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it endearing all at the same time. he reached up to grab your hand and pulled it between both his hands, turning so that the two of you were sat across one another rather than beside.

he let out a small sigh, eyes focused on your hand in his, “je veux te dire quelque chose.” i want to tell you something.

you, noticing his nerves, didn’t say anything, only nodding. 

you squeezed his hand and he continued, “je veux te dire quelque chose, mais j'ai peur.” i want to tell you something, but i’m scared.

your grip tightened slightly, “pourquoi as-tu peur?” why are you scared?

“j'ai peur de te perdre après avoir dit ce que j'ai à dire.” i'm scared i'll lose you after i say what i have to say.

you felt your heart race at his words, hands growing clammy. for years, you had repeated those same words to yourself, vowing yourself to silence regarding the topic. did he finally feel the same?

you willed yourself to stay calm, “you could never lose me, charles. jamais.” ever.

he gave you a nervous smile, eyes meeting yours for the first time since the new conversation rose. you gave him a soft smile, encouraging him to go on. you needed to hear him say the words first.

“quelques jours après avoir dit à papa que j'avais signé, il m'a dit qu'il était temps pour moi d'avouer mes sentiments,” charles looked away from you, “à l'époque, je n'avais aucune idée de ce dont il parlait.” a couple days after i told dad about me signing, he told me that it was time for me to come clean about my feelings…at the time i had no idea what he was talking about.

“il m'a dit que j'étais amoureuse,” he told me i was in love. charles spoke and your heart went wild. was this really happening? 

“et quand j'ai demandé avec qui, il a dit que c'était toi.” and when i asked with who, he said it was you.

you blinked at him. charles’ eyes darted back to your face, his hands squeezing yours.

“et depuis, j'ai réalisé qu'il avait raison,” he gave you a soft smile, “c'est toi. ca a toujours été toi.” and since then, i realized he was right. it's you. it's always been you.

you felt like the small waves lapping at the sand in front of you suddenly turned large and splashed down on you. you felt like your world had just gotten a thousand times brighter. a weight you never even realized you were carrying, lifted off your chest. you felt like you were breathing right for the first time. 

“y/n l/n, i love you. looking back, i have loved you from the moment you filled my memories,” his eyes searched yours, “tu as été la seule constante dans ma vie, et ce que j'ai ressenti pour toi a toujours été le même.” you've been the one constant in my life, and the way i've felt for you has always been the same. 

“je sais maintenant que c'est de l'amour, et j'ai vraiment besoin que tu le saches avant que nous passions au prochain chapitre de nos vies.” i know now it's love, and i really need you to know that before we move on to the next chapter of our lives. 

it was as if his words had been kissing you, leaving you breathless the moment he pulled away and stopped talking. charles had just told you he loved you. charles marc hervé perceval leclerc had just confessed to you.

a beat passed and he lightly tugged on your hand, the hopeful look in his eyes dimming slightly. you realized you had not responded.

“you love me?” after nearly five years of hiding your feelings from him, charles had just told you that he had felt the same. you couldn’t believe it.

he nodded slightly, “i do. je t’aime beaucoup.” i love you a lot.

you let the words sink in. he loved you. he loves you.

charles opened his mouth, “it’s okay if you don–”

“i love you, too,” you had let out a breathless laugh, “mon dieu, charles, je t'aime depuis que nous avons seize ans, quand tu as eu ton premier podium avec fortec.” my god, i have loved you since we were sixteen, when you got your first podium with fortec.

“fortec?” his eyes were wide as he realized how long it had been, “je suis un tel connard. tu as caché tes sentiments pendant si longtemps.” i am such an asshole. you've been hiding your feelings for so long.

his eyes looked watery with love, his forehead coming to rest against yours, “je suis désolé qu'il m'ait fallu si longtemps pour réaliser mes sentiments pour toi.” i'm sorry it took me so long to realize my feelings for you.

you smiled at him softly, your own eyes tearing up just as much as his, “mieux vaut tard que jamais.” better late than never.

to say your relationship with charles changed drastically after the confession would be a lie. the two of you spent the rest of your day at the beach wrapped up in each other’s arms, and charles had kissed your forehead before he drove the two of you home. the entire night you felt like you couldn’t sleep, and instead you spent your entire night texting charles with your curtains pulled shut, not wanting charles to see how wide you smiled with every text.

and although you two had confessed, you had neglected to discuss what would happen next.

charles had texted you at half past midnight the night before you left for university, asking for you to come outside. when you came out to your porch, he stood there with a smile on his face and an offer to go to the park you two used to play at as kids.

you were on the swings when he had asked you, sitting side by side and swinging back and forth slowly. you had been focused on the movement of your feet, trying to swing just slightly higher than charles.

“tu dirais oui si je te demandais d'être ma petite amie?” would you say yes if i asked you to be my girlfriend?

whenever charles reminisced this moment, he would say that the look you gave him when you registered his question had been the cutest doe-eyed look ever. your eyes were wide and your eyebrows had raised slightly. your lips were parted in the smallest of round shapes, and you blinked before responding.

“je pense que oui,” you slowed your swinging slightly, eyes bright with excitement, “veux-tu l'essayer?” i think i would. do you want to try it?

charles had given you a cheeky smile, slipping out of his swing and resting on one knee in front of you. he had gotten down wrong with his right knee kissing the ground, but you said nothing as your lips quirked into a smile.

“y/n l/n,” he reached for your hands and you let him grab them, “me ferais-tu l'honneur d'être ma charmante petite amie?” would you do the honour of being my lovely girlfriend?

you pretended to think about it, the hum turning into a giggle at the way charles’ face dropped in annoyance, “j’aimerais.” i would love to.

and much to the annoyance of charles’ nosy brothers, you two hadn’t kissed to set the new relationship in stone, instead wrapping each other into a tight hug, one where your feet left the ground, before charles placed a gentle kiss to your temple. 

the two of you had been dating for four months before you finally had your first kiss. charles had asked you out on a date on christmas eve, and had been rather disappointed when it began raining halfway through. it was cheesy, you knew it, charles knew it, and anyone and everyone who watched you tug charles out from under the canopy and into the rain knew it too, but neither of you seemed to care. 

charles’ cheeks and nose were slightly rosy from the mixture of cold raindrops and wind, and you were sure you weren’t fairing much better. your hands had wrapped around his neck as his found home against your hips. 

“i’ve dreamt of kissing under the rain ever since i watched ‘a cinderella story’,” you had laughed, throwing your head back into the rain.

charles had pulled you closer, “well, ma princesse, i’m here to make your dreams a reality.” 

sharing a kiss under the rain was cold, obviously— you couldn’t help the shiver that travelled up your spine when charles’ cold lips pressed themselves against your own— but at the same time, it was so warm. you felt like someone had lit a candle inside of you, warming you up from the inside out. when you pulled away, the two of you couldn’t help but let out soft laughs, hearts racing faster than any car charles had ever drove. 

the two of you had spent the rest of the year laying under warm blankets, with a cacophony of coughs and sneezes being your main form of communication.

your third year in university was split halfway between studying or taking exams, and watching charles’ races or crying to him over facetime because engineering was already so hard. as much as you had wished to be there attending charles’ every race in f1, you were nearing the end of your second semester and were swamped with finals. 

your first f1 race had been the 2018 monaco grand prix, and you’d spent the better part of your evening with your arms wrapped around him as he promised you that the next races would be better. the season had been rough for charles, but you had celebrated every good result, no matter how small.

it was your second holiday season as charles’ girlfriend when both of your worlds changed entirely. a couple days before christmas, charles had asked for you and your parents to join his family for dinner. when you had all settled around the dining table, charles stood up with a wide smile on his face.

“j'ai signé avec ferrari.” i signed with ferrari.

to this day, that dinner had been one of your favourite memories. the amount of smiles and tears shared, and the sheer pride that filled your chest when you looked at charles was something you had never been able to forget. 

that night, you and charles found yourselves sharing a bed, hands intertwined between the two of you. his eyes were glossy as he looked at you. 

a tear slipped out of his eyes when he closed them, “i didn’t lie.”

your free hand moved to wipe the tear away. your mind rushed back to the night you two had shared a week before hervé’s passing. 

you leaned forward and kissed his closed eyelids much like you had done the previous year, “no you didn’t. you’ve done well, mon amour. i know he’s so proud of you.”

on christmas morning, lorenzo had surprised you with a letter from the ferrari engineering academy, offering you an intern position to gain trackside experience for your final semester of your engineering degree. you had cried and thanked him profusely, while he laughed at your blubbering figure. later that night, arthur and charles had fought over who you’d be a race engineer for, with the youngest pointing out that he would soon join the ferrari driver academy himself.

and so 2019 began, with charles driving for ferrari, while you gained experience working with the ferrari engineering academy. by the end of your final semester, you had been offered to continue your internship with the academy which you had accepted immediately.

2019 was also the year that your relationship became public, a series of events causing fans to go crazy. pictures of charles in a suit had gone viral after some of your classmates caught sight of him at your graduation, and while you weren’t in the pictures, fans were quick to theorize that his girlfriend was one of the students who was graduating. 

speculations and theories about who you were had only just started when you made yourself known to the general f1 public, joining charles at french grand prix. it hadn’t been the plan, but after watching charles finish the race in p3 behind the mercedes, you couldn’t hold yourself back from wrapping your arms around your boyfriend and sharing a sweet kiss, unbeknownst to the cameras plastered everything to the big screens. 

for the rest of the season, you made appearances on random race weekends, work being a lot more lenient than your university deadlines had ever been. fans had joked that you were his good luck charm, with charles ending up on a podium in every race you went to.

the belgian grand prix was a race weekend you could never forget, for more reasons than one. you were there to see anthoine’s crash, hand clasped with charles as you watched the scene pan out. you felt like you were eighteen again, sitting next to charles as you watched jules on the tv. 

you had met anthoine quite a few times as you grew up for he, pierre, and charles had always been a tight-knit group. the frenchman had always been kind to you, and you found it hard to believe that he would no longer be cracking jokes with you about something pierre and charles had done while you were away.

both pierre and yourself had cried watching charles receive his award and dedicate his first win to anthoine. you wondered if he and jules were watching charles from above, smiling proudly for his accomplishment.

t was a home race that charles had won next, and the amount of people you had come across at work asking you to pass on a congratulations to charles was insane. you couldn’t complain though, you were proud charles was finally getting the recognition and love he deserved.

it was in italy where you celebrated your second anniversary, also. charles had gifted you a pretty necklace with his racing number on it, something you had worn ever since. 

in late 2019, you had been given an opportunity to join prema racing as an engineer which you had happily accepted. as you all sat around the dinner table for christmas, you shared the exciting news. arthur had been ecstatic, explaining how he would be driving for prema racing starting 2020.

“stop pouting, charles,” arthur had rolled his eyes, catching sight of his brooding older brother, “je t'avais dit qu'elle serait mon ingénieur de course.” i told you she would be my race engineer.

charles gaped at his younger brother, “woah, woah, woah. qui a dit qu'elle était votre ingénieur de course?” who said anything about her being your racing engineer?

“cela doit arriver,” arthur had smirked, dodging the hand that charles has attempted to slap his head with. it’s bound to happen.

and so, you debuted as a racing engineer during a pandemic, something you had never imagined yourself saying. much like how you hadn’t imagined saying that you would be the racing engineer for one arthur leclerc. 

much to charles’ chagrin, you remained arthur’s racing engineer for as long as he stayed in prema racing, which had been a total of three years. when it was revealed that arthur had signed with alfa romeo racing for the 2023 season, you had received multiple offers from other f1 teams to join as an engineer for their drivers. 

charles himself had jumped at the opportunity, conducting a meeting with mattia to consider switching xavier out for you, presenting him with all of yours and arthur’s stats from the previous years. when word got out about you possibly becoming charles’ race engineer, ferrari fans from across the globe demanded that mattia offer you the job. at the end of the 2022 season, scuderia ferrari had released a statement that stated how you would be replacing xavier padros as charles leclerc’s race engineer for his future ferrari seasons.

it was christmas yet again, the sixth one since you had started dating charles, and said boyfriend couldn’t help but taunt his younger brother.

“je t'avais dit qu'elle serait à moi après tout.” told you she would be mine after all.

arthur waved him off, “oui, oui. elle était mon ingénieur en premier. et pendant trois ans, laissez-moi le dire.” yeah, yeah. she was my engineer first. and for three years, let me just put that out there.

you rolled your eyes, smacking the back of charles’ head before reaching over and tugging on arthur’s ear, “depuis quand suis-je un objet que vous pouvez posséder et faire circuler?” since when was i an object you guys could just own and pass around?

both brothers winced and avoided your eyes, mumbling a quick sorry before stuffing their mouths with food. pascale had laughed, always entertained when her boys got scolded by you.

the start of your first season with ferrari had gone amazingly, with both charles and the season’s car performing exceptionally well. charles had managed to secure a large gap in the points for the driver’s championship, leading the championship with two wins worth of points.

and that leads us to now, the final race of the 2023 season. the fight for the title had yet to be over, with charles and max flipping positions every few races. at the moment, max had been leading the wdc with only five more points than charles, said ferrari driver currently leading the race with the dutch driver hot on his tail.

“alright, char, we’ve got two more laps, you can do it. push, push.”

the sound of your voice had never failed to bring a smile on charles face, no matter how stressed he was when you spoke over the radio, “how’s it looking?”

“you’re quicker than max in all sectors but the last,” you read off your observations, “ideally, you’d want that last sector to be the quickest so that there’s no chance of him overtaking you. can you go any faster?”

you could hear the smile in his voice as he pushed his car to go faster, “of course, i can, cherié.”

you tsked, “no flirting on the job, leclerc. one lap remaining.”

the radio stayed silent for the next minute, charles focused on staying ahead of max who continued to put pressure on the monégasque from behind. you could see the red ferrari at the final turn, unable to keep the smile from growing as max’s tires locked up, increasing the gap between him and charles.

the mechanics began cheering loudly, rushing to the pit wall to cheer for your boyfriend who crossed the finish line first.

you had laughed loudy, “and that’s a checkered flag, mon amour! you are the 2023 world champion!”

charles exclaimed loudly over the radio, car slowing down for a cooldown lap. he let out a few whoops before settling down to give a quick message to the team, “excellent job, guys. wow, congratulations everyone. thank you for all of the hard work this season. today marks not only my first driver’s championship, but also our first constructor’s championship win since 2008.”

he continued to thank a few more people before letting out another ecstatic laugh. from across the pitwall, you could see arthur’s red and white car cross the finish line in fifth place. 

“amour?” charles’ voice called out to you, “you there?”

“of course, champ. what’s up?” you gave mattia a confused look as he smiled at you. 

“tu dirais oui si je te demandais d'être ma femme?” would you say yes if i asked you to be my wife?

your breath hitched in your throat. you felt like you were thrown back into 2017, twenty years old sitting on a swing while charles sat in the one next to you.

“je pense que oui,” you repeated, eyes beady with unshed tears, “veux-tu l'essayer?” i think i would. do you want to try it?

charles had rushed to you the second he parked his car, pulling you close to plant a kiss against your lips before he was whisked away rather quickly to complete his post-race duties.

in front of the cameras, charles expressed his absolute elation regarding winning the grand prix, as well as coming first in both championships. the interviewer congratulated the monégasque on getting most votes for driver of the day as well, before moving on to the question he knew everyone wanted an answer for.

“so, we all picked up on that last radio message there. can we expect to receive any happy news in the near future?”

charles had smiled and shrugged, “i guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

for the final podium of the season, as his race engineer and team principal, you and mattia would be joining charles. even after 26 years of being around him, your heart still raced when you saw charles join you two on the podium.

with the awards distributed, you had waited to get drenched with champagne, looking around confused when no one popped a bottle. charles got off his step, making his way towards you.

unlike his cheeky smile six years ago, the smile on his face today was tender. the crowd beneath the podium screamed loudly as he kneeled on his left knee. he did it right this time, you couldn’t help but smile.

just like he had done six years ago, he uttered your name, “y/n l/n,” instead of grabbing your hands this time, he held his hand out to mattia, who handed him a ring box. 

charles opened the box and presented it to you, “me ferais-tu l'honneur d'être ma charmante femme?” would you do the honour of being my lovely wife?

and just like you had done six years ago, you pretended to contemplate, your smile peeking through as charles rolled his eyes at you playfully. you stuck your left hand out, wiggling your fingers, “j’aimerais.” i would love to.

the champagne bottles popped the second charles slipped the ring on your finger. you didn’t even care as the sweet champagne sprayed against your face and body, too wrapped up in the loving gaze of your fiancé. 

and then, just like you had done for the first time under the rain six years ago, the two of you locked lips under the showers of champagne. 

[constantcrisis19]

Domestic Bliss

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: I was thinking about starting a new series of one shots about a reader who is married Ghost so, while this will be the first story I post, it won't necessarily be the first in the timeline. I promise that it'll all make more sense when write enough fics to necessitate making a masterlist.

Word Count: 2,449

Main Page

You watched with a wide grin as Gaz nearly snorted coffee out of his nose at Soap’s recount of his earlier demonstration at the demolitions range, a truly impressive display that you just so happened to be present for, the resulting blast so big and so loud that you had stopped in your tracks in order to stare wide eyed at the bright flashes of light and dark plumes of smoke along with the rest of the recruits.

You still vividly remembered the truly manic expression on Soap's face as he’d watched the chain reaction go off, the crazy Scot standing as close to the resulting explosions as he could without injuring himself while everyone else with a modicum of self-preservation stayed further back.

You noticed a familiar figure prowl into the canteen and eagerly waved to Ghost, inviting the masked man to join you. Ghost didn’t even pause his stride, instead he simply redirected his course to begin walking towards the table that you, Gaz and Soap were currently occupying.

"Hey, babe." You greeted Ghost as you absentmindedly fiddled with the wedding ring that you kept on a silver chain around your neck. You’d been married to Ghost for six years now though had known the man since you were both stupid kids.

Unfortunately, you had moved away when you hit high school and the two of you had ended up losing touch with each other over the years, so it had been a pleasant surprise when you met again in the SAS when he was still a Sergeant, the two of you often being partnered with each other on ops since you worked well together.

The two of you hit it off one you got past the awkward pining stage of your relationship and then it wasn't long before you were getting hitched, the wedding taking place a few months before Simon went to Mexico in order to take down the Zaragoza cartel with that slimy fuck Vernon and came back... different.

Quieter. More paranoid. Broken.

As usual, Ghost’s only response was a brief dull stare and a sharp nod in your direction, though you never took his antisocial tendencies to heart. He sat down on the empty seat next to you, taking the mug of coffee that you slid over to him, and though Ghost was more fond of tea than coffee, he never turned down your cup when you offered it.

“Soap was just telling Gaz about his demonstration earlier.” You clued him into the conversation as he lifted his mask up just enough to uncover the lower portion of his face, lifting the mug to his lips in order to take a swig of the steaming contents, his resulting slight grimace at the taste forcing you to turn your head away in order to hide a smile.

“Aye, Lt. Yew shuid ‘ave been there, it was glorious.” Soap sighed whimsically, you and Gaz sharing an amused look at Soap’s usual antics since he never failed to either wax poetically or confess his undying love for bombs and explosives and such at least twice a day.

"Not interested." He dismissed bluntly, his expression flat, but despite his curt tone it was fairly obvious to you and anyone who knew Ghost that he wasn’t intentionally being rude. His standoffish behavior was mostly because he was emotionally stunted, which meant that he typically defaulted to being curt when he was actually just too tired or wound up to deal with any high-energy conversations.

“That’s just because you don’t have a thrill-seeking bone in your body, old man.” Gaz quipped, finishing off his cup of coffee before grabbing one of the muffins out of the container you’d brought with you. You and Ghost had managed to get some time to yourselves yesterday so you went off base and spent the afternoon out in the nearby city and you had decided to get a treat for the other three members of the 141.

“Ha! Better be careful, Gaz, we wuidn’t want him tae break a hip tryin’ tae teach yer sorry arse a lesson.” Soap added with a shit-eating grin, Ghost pausing with his mug halfway between the table and his mouth, his dark eyes darting over to a cocky Soap, who confidently met his gaze.

“You’re both such fucking shitheads.” You said with a laugh, placing your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your palm as you watched the ensuing showdown with blatant interest. And, since popcorn wasn’t exactly available at the moment, a muffin would have to do.

With your free hand you reached out across the table and took a muffin for yourself, taking a bite of the fluffy bakery item and humming softly at the pleasant taste.

Ghost blankly stared at the two smug men sitting across from him and he was quiet for so long that you began to wonder if he was even going to respond. Though, after a few seconds had passed, he finally spoke. “We’ll settle the matter on the mat. 1300”

The smile was quickly wiped off Soap and Gaz’s faces at the prospect of fighting Ghost, even if it was strictly for training, because Ghost was known among the recruits for being ruthless even while sparring, people who dared to go up against him coming out with bruises and even the occasional dislocated bone.

“You both are so gonna eat your words.” You cackled, pulling your hand out from under your chin in order to grab one of Ghost’s hands from where they were wrapped around his mug of coffee, lacing your fingers together and resting your intertwined hands between the two of you on the tabletop.

Ghost turned his gaze away from Soap and Gaz and stared at you for a few moments before looking down at your joined hands and sighing, lightly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. You bumped shoulders with him, basking in the heat that always seemed to come off the man in waves

“You’re clingy today.” Came Ghost's flat reply, his voice containing the slightest hint of amusement, and you playfully shoved at his shoulder with a half-hearted scowl, pulling your hand away and crossing your arms over your chest instead.

“You’re such an ungrateful ass sometimes. I’ll have you know that I’m a total catch, cuddly or not.” You declared petulantly, barely able to hold back your smile when you saw Soap snicker out of the corner of your eye.

Your shove as well as your bold statement was rewarded with a faint smile spreading across Ghost’s exposed lips, the man’s emotions being much more apparent without the mask there to hide his various reactions. Though that’s not to say that it was impossible for you to tell what he was thinking when he did wear the mask since Ghost had really expressive eyes and you had several years of experience reading every subtle shift of his gaze.

"You love it." Ghost said, his flat tone was broken by a small hint of sarcasm and humor, his voice growing slightly amused as he shifted slightly to face you with a dead-pan look.

"Unfortunately." You sighed dramatically before leaning over to plant a fond, chaste kiss against his fabric covered cheek.

"Love you too, sweetheart." He said with all the enthusiasm of a brick wall.

"Love you more, stud-muffin." You said with a quirk of your brow. It wasn't a secret that one of you and Ghost's favorite games was to see who could come up with the most ridiculous pet names for the other, and you both indulged in the game so often that even other members of the 141 would play along, the game never failing to escalate and get everybody involved all sorts of riled up.

"Love you most, dandelion." His words sounded teasingly sarcastic and dry as he called you 'sweetheart', and you could have sworn that you heard a tinge of humor in that flat tone of his as he spoke.

“Aren’t you two adorable.” Gaz sighed dramatically and you flicked him off, petulantly sticking your tongue out at the other man, Gaz giving you a wide grin in response.

"Everyone shut up and let me finish my breakfast in peace." Ghost grouched, grabbing a muffin from the container and pulling a piece of the top part off, one of his quirks being that he always eats the muffin top first before moving on to the rest.

"Anything for you, pookie." You ribbed at Ghost, hearing Soap give a bark of laughter from his seat across from the two of you at the dumb nickname. You raised a brow at Ghost when he gave you a judgemental side eye, daring him to try and one up you.

“How considerate of you, buttercup.” Ghost commented neutrally, his tone dry, and you tilted your head at him, raising a questioning brow at him.

"What’s with all the flowery pet names? I expected more creativity from you, doll face." You sighed with a mock-disappointed sigh and shake of your head.

"You aren't worth the effort, honey." He deadpanned. And, while Ghost may have seemed to be insulting you from an outside perspective, it was fairly obvious going by the mirthful glint in his eyes that he was just teasing.

"If I can force myself to laugh at your shitty dad jokes, then you could at least try to think up an imaginative name for me." You said with a smile, just so that Ghost would be able to tell that you were mostly joking.

“Believe it or not, I'm not trying to impress you. You're stuck with me either way." Ghost shrugged, Soap giving a low disbelieving whistle at the bold words as you rolled your eyes.

"I think that it's safe to say that we've officially left the honeymoon phase of our relationship then." You chuckled good-naturedly, placing a hand on Ghost's thigh and squeezing before just letting your hand rest there as a soothing weight since Ghost never seemed to mind your touch.

"We're way past that. We've been married for six years now and we know each other's quirks and ticks." Ghost paused for a few seconds, pulling off another bite of muffin before continuing on. "We know how to get under each other’s skin, but I still wouldn't have it any other way."

"Me neither, love bug." You smirk in thinly veiled amusement and triumph, and Ghost dropped his holier-than-thou attitude and rolled his eyes at the ridiculous nickname.

"You always know what to say to lighten the mood, honey-bun." Ghost drawled as he stripped the wrapper off his muffin in order to begin digging into the bottom half of the baked treat, his voice sounding equal parts sarcastic and genuine.

“Yew two are fuckin’ cracked, a true match made in hell.” Soap piped up as he started in on his third muffin, crumbs covering the majority of the table in front of him. And though some people found Soap’s messy eating habits disgusting, you actually thought his toddler-esque way of eating was somewhat endearing.

“You’re just mad cause you weren’t able to be Ghost’s best man at the wedding.” You replied with a cheeky grin, leaning across the table to flick Soap’s scarred eyebrow.

“I dinnae even know Lt yet! An’ it's not my fault tha’ yew impatient bastards cannae ‘ave waited a couple more years before gettin’ hitched.” Soap was quick to defend himself, abandoning his food in favor of gesticulating wildly as he complained.

“Fuck off, angel face.” You said good-naturedly, placing your palms flat on the table and leaning into Soap’s personal space, the man mirroring your movements.

“Never, ya wee feral bairn.” He shot back without missing a beat as he shifted even closer, slowly but steadily closing the distance between your faces.

“Teddy bear.” You happily continued your banter with a mischievous grin, pushing forward until your noses were practically brushing as you stared each other down.

“Both of you shut it.” Ghost interrupted your battle of wills, grabbing your forearm and gently pulling you back down into your seat, his hand sliding down your arm until he reached your hand before lacing your fingers together, squeezing in a wordless reprimand.

“So, how was the wedding? Seeing as we weren't there.” Gaz broke the companionable silence that had descended over the four of you, popping the last of his muffin into his mouth before washing it down with the last of his coffee.

“An’ who was Ghost's best man?” Soap tacked on almost as an afterthought as he leaned back in his seat as far as he could get away with without losing his balance and toppling over ass over teakettle.

“First of all, Price was the best man, which is only fair since he's the one who introduced us to each other.” Well, more like reintroduced, but you weren't about to get hung up on the schematics.

You brought your shoulder up into a nonchalant little shrug, absentmindedly tapping the fingers of your unoccupied hand on the tabletop aa you ignored Gaz and Soap's twin looks of surprise in favor of continuing. “And our wedding wasn’t anything over the top. It was just a small ceremony in a secluded church with a short guest list. We both agreed that we didn’t want to make a huge fuss.”

“And you were cool with a modest wedding? No extravagant flowers or decorations or cake?” Gaz asked, his brows furrowed and you could see where the confusion was coming from since the media made most people feel like the average wedding was supposed to be huge and expensive.

Though that being said, you wouldn’t necessarily have minded something lavish like that, you just didn’t really feel that all the fanfare was necessary for you and Simon. You were both well aware of how much you loved each other, so you mutually agreed that you didn’t need some big ceremony to prove your devotion to each other.

“As far as I’m concerned, all I needed was Simon.” You said, turning your gaze to Ghost and bringing your joined hands up to your mouth in order to plant an affectionate kiss onto the back of his hand.

Ghost stared at you for a short moment, looking a bit caught off guard, before he managed to pull himself together. He moved closer, leaning down and tilting his head in order to place his lips against yours in a soft kiss, letting the connection linger before pulling away just far enough to speak, his breaths fanning intimately across your lips.

“And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that you’ll never want for anything else.”

[gavidaily]

Hello! Here's the full La Vanguardia interview in English translated by yours truly 💖 enjoy!

Pablo Páez Gavira, Gavi (19 years, Los Palacios y Vilafranca, Sevilla) is an one of a kind player. On the pitch, mixes a delicate technique with an overwhelming will, a mix that is rare between midfielders: he is either head or lungs, but rarely both. Outside the field, he is a stranger. Out of shyness, he would rather be sure of himself before letting people know him. The club sees him as ready. Now, Gavi gives his first long interview to La Vanguardia. His first answers are short, but soon he gets comfortable and with more confidence, he gets more open. It's hard not to like him, he sounds genuine in a world of mechanized words: pure and unfiltered, like the way he plays. 

COLORS "Being of Barça is something that comes from watching the best squad in history, Xavi's, Iniesta..." _______

I: More than 100 matches for Barça and you have given a few interviews. Don't you like it?  G: I'm shy, and I'd rather focus on football, but I'm working on it, since I have to do it. 

I: Are you aware of all the surrounding buzz?  G: A little bit, yes. I noticed on the streets and Instagram, but I try to get away from it.

I: What do you like most to hear about yourself?  G: That I'm a shy boy, but a good person with everyone. This is how I want to be known.

I: Whenever you score a goal, you kiss the Barça badge. You are from a town in Sevilla, how come you became such a big culé? G: From seeing the best team in history, the Barça of Xavi, Iniesta and others. Since then I have been and always will be of Barça.

THE WILL "Sometimes I watch the match replay and think 'Why did I do that?'" _______

I: You arrived at Barça very young, at 11 years-old. Were you scared of the change? G: Yes, a lot. I remember that a couple months before the move I told my parents I didn't want to come, that I was scared of what could happen. Today I thank my parents, they were the first to notice that I should be here. 

I: What were you scared of? G: Of everything, La Masia... I was very little and didn't want to leave my hometown, leave my friends behind. It meant changing my whole life.

I: And La Masia became like home for you... G: Yes, I spent my whole childhood here, almost sinceAs long as I've known myself, it is everything to me. 

I: Your first six months here were hard because of FIFA's ban on Barça. Gavi, with 11 years and unable to play, it's hard to imagine. A lion in a cage. G: I couldn't bear not to play, for me it's like breathing. So I deal it with how I could have. I decided to play in the football league my school had.

I: Your team was lucky, you must have won everything. G: I scored four or five goals on each match. We won everything but the day we played in the league. 

GETTING BETTER "I am enjoying this season best. We are doing things better." _______

I: What happened? G: I played my first match for Barça, I couldn't go. My schoolmates still pick on me because of that.

I: In your first year in Barcelona you lived with your parents. G: Yes, in Balmes street, but at the end of the year I told them they could leave me, that I wanted to live in La Masia.

I: Which were your favorite players? G: Iniesta the most, but Isco and Veratti too.

I: The most technical. You can shoot with both legs, did you learn it or is it natural for you? G: It's something that has happened since I was a kid. I actually say that inside the box I shoot best with the left leg, I can define better with it, it's more natural. 

I: Let's be clear: you are an interior. G: I have always been. Left interior. 

I: Now you are playing more in that position.  G: Xavi knows where I'm more comfortable, but he has a lot of trust in me and in each match he decides where I should be and I try my best for the coach. To give everything.

"Ansu will come back, I know it." _______

Gavi has simple habits. His life revolves around football and even during his free time he watches the matches on the television with his friends, most of them from his time in La Masia. "I'm a football nerd, I watch a lot of matches with my friends at home, Premier League above all. I like some clubs more than others. I follow Manchester City and now especially Brighton, because they are good and Ansu Fati plays there", says the midfielder, who misses his ex-teammate and hopes to see him back in the blaugrana locker room after the one year of loan to the english club. "I believe in Ansu. I believe he will get his confidence back and I wish he comes back. We have been friends since we met in La Masia and I wish him the best always'.

I: You dominate both legs, you are good in duels, with the head... Is there anything you see a margin for improvement? G: Taking last year as reference, I have been better on pausing the plays and not making as many fouls with divided balls.

I: Is that a personal work or from Xavi? G: Xavi tries to improve me, we talk a lot.

I: Are you not scared of getting hurt with those divided balls?  G: Sometimes I watch the match replay, I see something I did and think "Sh*t, why did I do that?. But my mother suffers more than me, she always tells me not to get in fights and it scares her a lot. But at the end of the day, it's football.

I: Do you consider yourself a harsh player? G: I consider myself a fighter, until the end, and I won't lose that.

I: Last year, from Madrid, rumors started that said you were an overly harsh player. Did it reach you? Were you annoyed?  G: I was aware, but I was relaxed. Xavi helped me and it didn't matter what some people said.

PROGRESS "I have more breaks, fewer fouls and this year I want to score ten goals" _______

I: It's an unquestionable truth that you don't like losing... G: I have improved compared to the lower categories, any coach could tell you.

I: But what did you do? Being a sore loser it's not that bad. G: Let's say I didn't take well and my teammates paid for it during the training sessions. It used to drive me crazy, I didn't know how to lose.

I: What would you do for Barça? G: Everything. I would do everything, whatever it is.

I: During the summer, with the new signings, they said you were going to be left out of the eleven starters... and now, you’re untouchable. G: I have a lot of trust in me, that's what matters to me. And if Xavi wants to talk to me and help me to improve, I thank him. The coach was one of the best players in my position. 

I: You are 19 and you already are a reference for players that come from La Masia, like Lamine Yamal...

G: I didn't imagine that when I was little, but yes. I try to calm them down, and get them excited. I had Busi, Jordi... I know it is very important to have that support. 

LOCKEROOM "I admire Frenkie. When they said he could leave in the summer, I was screwed and I told him that." _______

I: Which player do you praise for his professionalism in the actual squad? G: Frenkie, Frenkie. 

I: Do you miss him? G: F*ck, a lot, just like Pedri.

I: Well, De Jong was on the market two summers ago... G: At that moment I was screwed, I didn't want him to leave, and I told him that. Thankfully, he didn't leave, and he's still with us. 

I: Are you enjoying playing? That's important.  G: I'm enjoying it a lot more during this season. We're doing things better.

I: With the Joãos the chemistry has been instantly. G: They are very good and have settled in fast. João Félix it's on my side and I can work with him more, but I look for them both. Without them we would not have been able to make some progress this season.

 I: How do you see Madrid? Stronger? G: They have significant casualties, but they are a winning team.

I: Last year you won the League and this year you are finally required to play a good role in the Champions League. G: We have to get as far as possible, we're Barça, like the coach says. Winning with Barça is one of my dreams, one of the biggest, it's what all culés want. 

I: The match against Porto is a key match during the group stage. Do you overthink about the matches beforehand?  G: Yes, even more important ones. I think about how it's going to go and I usually imagine scoring a goal. Thoughts…

I: How many goals do you think you will score this season? G: I said to Iván de la Peña, my representative, that I'll score ten, I already did two.

I: Outside the box the shot doesn't prove much. G: I have to see it very clearly, it is still difficult for me, I have to dare.

I: Do you see yourself playing for Barça your whole life? That's almost impossible these days. G: I wish it could be like that, I wouldn't be happier anywhere else. 

[johns-prince]

Y'all I see talk about John being the codependent one between the Lennon-McCartney pair, as if Paul wasn't off in Scotland having a literal spiraling breakdown over the heartbreak and shattering of his world and reality as he'd always known it, of no longer having John, his partner since they were teens, and the band they'd put their spark to give it life (George's words not mine), whilst freshly married with a wife and kid(s).

As if Linda didn't out Paul as being desperate to write with John again.

Paul the family-man man, had to be told by John, the not-so serious family-man man, that he couldn't just come showing up around to play guitar and hangout whenever he'd like, like it was the old days again—I've got a baby in the house Paul you can't just come ringing and knocking at whatever time you want, I'm a (her) husband™ now.

It wasn't John doing that, it was Paul.

I can't stress this enough that both of them were literally balls-to-the-walls crazy about their relationship to each other, their collaborative partnership. Like it was borderline unhealthy, let's be real, let's be frank, how territorial and possessive and near obsessive (full obsessive let's be real Paul's just a teeny bit better at masking it) they were about each other.

The codependency came from both of them.

Not for nothin' if it hadn't been for Linda, Paul might've gotten just as bad about the whole divorce and heartbreak as John had (not just the substance abuse like alcohol but going from one extreme to the other about what they had)

But like all you gotta do is look at how Paul always seems to find a way to bring up and mention John in nearly every interview, or how he dreams of John often and they're usually good dreams, or that he'll imagine John's with him in the room and like they're having a jam session to work out his music, or Paul labeling what they had as soulmates, or how he almost fully insinuated that if he'd been a girl then maybe he could've done something about Yoko, or the fact Paul had (has?) A six foot tall photo of him and John taken by Linda writing lyrics sitting very close in an office, or Paul refusing to acknowledge the fact John was dead and gone for like months, or Paul locking himself in his studio after John's death and blasting (Just Like) Starting Over on repeat for like days, or how apparently for awhile Paul kept talking about John in the present tense (even though John was dead) and it low-key freaked some people out, or Paul believing he witnessed John's spirit in the studio he was during the interview, or him thinking a white peacock that appeared suddenly during a photoshoot of him, Ringo, and George, was John, or the playback static at the end of their recording 'Free as a Bird' was John because Paul swears he heard in that static John Lennon, or his once joking? of wanting his son to name his grandson Lennon so that put together his grandson would be named Lennon McCartney, or—

Basically what I'm trying to say is John wasn't the codependent bff here like he was but so was Paul they were each other's codependent butt-buddy bffluv4eva.

[hannahbarberra162]

Struck Twice By Lightning, Chapter 2

On Ao3 All Chapters

Sitting next to Shanks and listening to him talk was infuriating. He wouldn’t shut up long enough for you to say what you needed. It seemed like he wanted to tell you - in detail - everything that had happened since you last saw each other. You tried to cut him off. “A little after that, I was in Foosha Village for about a year -”

“Shanks.”

“And I met this kid, he was really annoying but funny -”

“Shanks.”

“Anyway, he ate this Devil Fruit I got. I actually gave him that old straw hat I had, do you remember-”

“SHANKS.” You had put your hands on either side of his face and squished his cheeks. “Stop. Talking.”

Shanks tried talking through his smooshed face.  “Whath up?”

“I need you to do something for me.” You let go of his face and turned so you were facing him and looking him in the eye.

“Name it, sugar bear.”

Your eye twitched but you didn’t take the bait. “We need to get divorced.”

Shanks laughed. Your eye twitched again.

“Is that all? No.”

“What do you mean no.”

“No.”

That was… not the answer you had been anticipating. You two hadn’t been together as a couple in over a decade. You hadn’t seen each other and had gone on to live separate lives. The fact that he was refusing was unexpected to say the least.

“Why on earth not?” you sputtered.

“I don’t want to divorce you.”

“Well, I want to divorce you” you hissed. This little song and dance was starting to anger you. 

“Too bad,” he said with a shrug as took another sip of his sake.

You were going to kill him. This is how he was going to die and then you wouldn’t need to divorce him. To prevent murder, you took a deep breath.

“Shanks, you need to agree to divorce me.”

“I don’t.”

He paused with his sake cup near his mouth. “Why do you want to divorce anyway? You’ve been fine being married all these years.” He inhaled a gasp and said “do you want to marry someone else?” 

He was acting in mock outrage, but you knew Shanks. He wasn’t really joking.

“It’s none of your business.”

“As your husband, it is absolutely my business.”

“You’re not really my husband, and no it’s not.”

“If I’m not really your husband, you don’t really need to divorce me.”

You were getting angry and this was going nowhere. You were arguing in circles with a man who did this for fun. The sooner this was over the sooner you could go back to your relaxing little house on your relaxing little island. You took a moment, counted to five and started again.

“I don’t want to get married again. I want to get a business license in my name. Since we are married and you’re a wanted pirate, all my revenue would get taken by the government. So, we need to divorce so I can run my business. ”

Shanks put down his cup and rubbed his chin in thought. “Why do you need a license? Can’t you just run it on your own?”

“Not all of us are Yonkos who do as they please. I was offered a contract to be a supplier to a bigger island. That kind of thing needs a license.”

“A supplier of what?”

“You’re drinking it.”

Shanks looked down at his ochoko. “You made this? It’s so complex, such an excellent floral flavor on the tongue. I should have known only someone as brilliant as you could make it.”

“Thanks,” you said with a wry smile. “It has a seal of approval from Red Haired Shanks. Now, can we please get divorced?”

“Hmmmm. I’m considering it, if it gets me more of this alcohol. How about this - spend six months with me on the Red Force, and I’ll divorce you.”

“No.”

“Guess you won’t be selling your alcohol anywhere else then.” Shanks took a big sip. He had you backed into a corner, and he knew it. 

“A week.” You thought that would be the maximum you could take.

“Three months.”

“A week and a day.”

“A year.”

“One month.”  That was your final offer - otherwise you’d just make do with your current sellers.

“Welcome back sweet pea,” he said, grinning his true smile. 

Fuck. Your. Life. 

[lily-blue]

13 reasons why | reason no.13: the coffee shop is kid-friendly

☆ characters: potter!joshua & single-mom!you (Seori - ‘94 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, single parent au, slice of life, angst, fluff ☆ warnings: distorted views on single parenthood, mental health issues ☆ summary: after you become a single mom, you think relationships are off the table; too bad your daughter doesn’t agree with you ☆ words: 21k ☆ taglist: @dat-town​​

➼ chapter index

When you had been younger - a tad too wild and carefree for someone who had been in her high school senior year in South Korea -, you had thought that being told that your partner had cheated on you was the worst way a relationship could end. However, in your early twenties, you had come to realise that your ideas and beliefs had been unrealistic and sheltered because of your late grandmother’s efforts to give you the same childhood she had failed to give to your father, and that real life was more unfair than you could have ever comprehended. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been forced to leave a loving relationship five months pregnant.

It had been a little over seven years since your break-up with Inwoo, and you did a fabulous job at keeping your daughter’s biological father’s identity a secret. The only people who knew about Haeun’s connection to the prestigious In family were your ex-boyfriend, his mother and your best friend, Seola, who was bound by an NDA just like you in order to ensure neither of you got greedy and tried to harm the chaebols’ reputation. As if you had ever done anything to hurt the man who had made you believe you could have had your own Cinderella story. As if money and power could have ever been more important to you than emotional security and happiness.

But then again, Inwoo’s mother might have thought differently of you. After all, you had agreed to receive monthly child support from a bank account that couldn’t have been linked to her and her son in exchange for your silence. You might have been naive back then, but you had already known that just you and your grandmother wouldn’t have been able to provide the best life for your child.

As you looked at your adorable, six-and-a-half-year-old daughter who was shifting her body weight from one leg to the other in front of you, you tried not to think of your conversation with her homeroom teacher, Haeun’s endless questions about your family’s weird structure since they had learned about family and friends in school or how much she resembled her father. You might not have had childish delusions anymore about Inwoo finding his way back to you, but you also couldn’t have just forgotten the gentleness in his eyes and the happiness he had radiated each and every time he had been talking about marrying you and your growing family. He would have been an amazing father, and you could only hope that you were a good enough mother as well. It surely couldn’t have made you a horrible mom that you couldn’t find a babysitter for your little one last minute. What mattered was that you were trying your best.

Goodness, you sure hoped these inconvenient occasions and your lack of resources wouldn’t cause your daughter a childhood trauma. People these days were talking about those a lot and as a single parent who cared too much, the possibility made you unhealthily self-conscious. If only you had been more hard-working, more ambitious when you had been younger. You should have listened to your teachers and your grandmother and applied for university like everyone else in your high school.

You shook your head and took a step closer to the counter as the person in front of the barista got her order. One more couple to go and it would be finally your turn to purchase your usual cinnamon roll frappuccino.

‘Mom! See! See! See!’ Your daughter exclaimed when her eyes fell on the delicious cakes behind the glass display, her height only allowing her to marvel at the products on the lowest metal shelf. 

Initially, your plan had been to leave her with your neighbour for those six long hours you would be away from home, but Min was still a university student and he had exams to study for, which would have been significantly more difficult with a six-and-a-half-year-old whose curiosity was seemingly endless. Your conscience hadn’t allowed you to ask for such a huge favour, as you didn’t want to undermine his studies. With your tiring part-time jobs, you knew exactly how important that piece of paper was in your society. And he would have had a hard time saying no if you had insisted.

It was the light tug on your pants that pulled you back to the present; your daughter was quick to address the barista behind the counter even though she could barely reach it on her tiptoes. Her swinging pigtails were flying back and forth as she tried to keep her balance and ask for a frog-shaped cookie.

‘That’s a pretty big cookie. Are you sure you can eat the whole thing?’ The barista played along while you were trying to figure out which dessert had caught Haeun’s attention, since you couldn’t see any cookies on the lowest shelf. Hm, maybe she was talking about the extra large cupcake cake that consisted of six individual cupcakes and formed a cartoon-style frog. According to the card in front of it, it was for two people and could be ordered for special occasions in advance in various shapes and sizes. 

You made a mental note to ask the barista about this offer the next time you came to Coffee Carat, because you thought Haeun would have enjoyed a cake like this for her birthday in August, which was in a bit over three months.

‘I’m a big girl,’ she insisted, some of her words slurred together due to the emphasis she tried to put on just how old she was. It made your lips curl upwards; you ruffled her bangs before you looked at the barista. Luckily, he seemed more amused than annoyed by your daughter’s behaviour.

‘Come here, big girl,’ you crouched down to pick the little girl up, so she could see the other dessert options as well. Then, you pointed at the single cupcake on the uppest shelf, the one that depicted a similarly styled cartoon frog’s face. ‘What about this one? This looks just as cute, doesn’t it?’ You negotiated, unbothered by other people’s opinion of your relationship with your daughter. Deep in your heart you knew you weren’t spoiling her just because you cared and constantly encouraged her to communicate about her likes and dislikes openly.

Was what you were doing controversial in your country? More or less, especially amongst the older generation. However, Haeun was your daughter (and your daughter alone) and you tried to raise her in a way you believed was the best for her in the long run. 

‘I think…’ the little girl started, then stopped abruptly like she always did when there was a big decision waiting for her to make. You watched her as she jutted her lower lip out with the most serious facial expression a six-and-a-half-year-old could make. ‘Yes, I like this one,’ Haeun said before she asked you to put her down.

Not wasting a second more - just because you disregarded the judgemental mumbles and soft snorts didn’t mean you didn’t know some of the customers behind you were rather inpatient -, you gave your order to the smiley barista and fished your wallet out of your backpack so you could pay. You actually had a separate bank card in it with all the child support money on for expenses related to Haeun, but you always used your hard-earned salary when it came to such tiny treats. Her grandmother’s fortune was only for emergencies and bigger investments, not to mention that university tuitions got more and more expensive these days. You should have stayed mindful of her savings even if your best friend liked to remind you of Inwoo’s wealth. You couldn’t guarantee and you shouldn’t have expected your daughter to snatch one of those fancy scholarships that covered students’ rent and living expenses as well.

‘Miss,’ the barista called out for you between two forced coughs, indicating that it wasn’t the first or second time he had tried to gain your attention. A bit sheepish, you looked him in the eye, silently asking him to repeat his words again. ‘Here is your change.’

‘Oh! Thank you,’ you mumbled under your nose, cursing yourself mentally for letting your thoughts wander in front of so many people. However, you simply couldn’t have helped it. Ever since Haeun’s homeroom teacher had mentioned to you the English summer camp for the kids, you were constantly thinking about money. What you should have prioritised, where you should have drawn the line when it came to your daughter’s wishes, whether you should have touched the money you were saving for her future or just cut into your own savings.

‘Of course. Here is the little one’s cupcake. The frappuccino will be ready in a minute,’ the barista informed you with a kind smile and gave you a small paper bag with the shop’s logo on it. 

You stepped aside to give room for the next customer.

To kill some time, you fixed your daughter’s messy clothes and pigtails, then let her distract you with her endless tales about her elementary school days because she was only in first grade when most kids were still very excited to learn new things about the world.

Haeun was in the middle of an unnecessarily detailed story about a classmate who always sat on the benches during PE class and never spoke to anyone when your phone started to ring and the voices in your head reminded you that you couldn’t afford to not take it. You hadn’t sent in your application for tens of thousands of jobs in the past eight months to ignore a call - a potential first or second round interview.

‘One cinnamon roll frappuccino to go,’ the barista recited your order the very next second, both delaying your response to the caller and giving you a chance to ask for a tiny favour. So you quickly stepped closer to the counter and reached out for your drink.

‘Thank you. Could you please keep an eye on my daughter for a couple of minutes. She is a smart kid and knows not to go anywhere without me. It’s really just making sure people don’t try to give her anything they shouldn’t or talk her into going anywhere with them,’ you asked under one breath, hoping that your lengthy ramble didn’t annoy the guy too much. You might have been a customer, but he wasn’t obligated to cater to your wishes to this extent.

Still, he took one quick look at your buzzing phone, then at your daughter and nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world.

‘Don’t worry about her. I will keep her company while you take that call,’ someone on your left said and you couldn’t have snapped your head in her direction quicker.

The woman who was speaking to you couldn’t have been that much older than you if she had been older in the first place. Her dark brown hair grazed her shoulders in soft waves while her clothes were on the more messy side: an oversized tee and a khaki overall. At first glance, she looked approachable and kind; however, you didn’t know her and you were wary of leaving Haeun in her care (even though, technically, you didn’t know the barista, either).

‘I’m sorry. That must have sounded so creepy, let me rephrase it,’ the woman spoke up again, and by this time your grip on your phone was so tight as if a part of you believed you could hold onto the person on the other side by crashing the device.

You gulped, visibly impatient, but gave her a chance to explain herself. 

‘My name is Hoyeon and I’m the wife of the owner. I was just about to go over to Freefall for some biscuits, but then I overheard your conversation and couldn’t not think that I have more time to spear than Seungkwan,’ she said, her smile more understanding than anything despite the way you sneaked a glance at the barista to double-check her claim.

As soon as the boy nodded, you bit into your lower lip and crouched down next to Haeun, to check whether she would have been comfortable with staying with Hoyeon.

‘I need to take this call, sugar. Can you be a good girl for me and stay with Hoyeon-ssi?’ You asked her, waiting for a nod or any sign that could have indicated that she wanted to stay with you instead, in which case she should have stayed super still and quiet until the end of your conversation unlike last time when you had accidentally written down the wrong time for an interview because she had been excited to show you the rainbow on the wall.

‘Long call?’ Your daughter asked with a tiny little pout on her lips, giving you the motherly urge to pinch her baby face; you did not resist.

‘Yes, a long call,’ you said; your voice was apologetic and so were your eyes, although your phone stopped ringing a moment later, the possibility of another missed opportunity stressing you out.

‘Okay,’ Haeun agreed to stay behind, sneakily eyeing your backpack where you had shoved the paper bag and with that, the frog cupcake into right after you had paid. Her request made you smile even before she opened her mouth. ‘Can I eat the cake now?’ She asked, tilting her head to the right like her aunt Seola always did when she wanted to get or do something you disapproved of. These two were spending too much time together it seemed.

‘You can,’ you gave in easily, the backpack already halfway off your shoulder. ‘But you need to promise me to not leave the coffee shop, okay? Not even with Hoyeon-ssi,’ you made her promise, using the unbreakable seal: your pinkies.

‘Promise,’ Haeun gave you her word, too, which eased your worries somewhat, reassuring you that you weren’t making the wrong decision despite how ridiculous that was. If someone wanted to harm a six-and-a-half-year-old, it hardly mattered whether the little one was cooperative.

Letting out a sigh, you quickly walked out of the shop and pulled up your call history to open the last caller’s details. You counted to three, five, ten to calm yourself a little, then tapped on the green icon. The person on the other side picked it up for the third ring.

‘Good morning. My name is Jin Jaehyuk from Wrap It Up,’ the man introduced himself in a pleasant voice, asking you whether he was talking to one of the candidates for their driver position, which you eagerly confirmed.

Before seeing their ad on Seola’s windshield a week ago, you had never considered applying for a driver job; however, the salary was almost twice as much as you were currently making and that alone made up for the possible shortcomings that company could have. The cleaner job you currently had pushed those bars really low if you wanted to be honest. At this point, you would have taken anything that didn’t drain you dry by the end of every damn shift.

The conversation with the HR representative was overall pleasant. He asked you about your work experience, how frequently you drove, whether you had your own car and if so, what type so he could find the most suitable company car for you in case you got hired. And lastly, of course, he wanted to know the reason why you had considered their position. Before you realised, you were already talking for twenty minutes, completely disregarding the buzzing of the street and the customers leaving and entering the coffee shop.

Hopeful about a second round interview, you slid your phone into your pocket, then went back to Coffee Carat, just for your soft smile to be stolen by the most terrifying sight that could have greeted you: your daughter sitting on the lap of a man you had never met before. You didn’t think, not really, when you ran up to them and tore the little girl out of his hands.

‘Who are you? And who gave you the permission to touc—’

‘Mooooom,’ Haeun put her tiny hands in your mouth, successfully blocking your accusations with her fingers. Confused and frustrated, you furrowed your brows and looked down at your daughter, visibly asking for an explanation, which she delivered after a huff. ‘Jisoo oppa is Hoyeon unnie’s friend. We were watching Encanto and you ruined the best part,’ she whined like you were the real bad guy in her story instead of the stranger who was caging her with his arms mere seconds prior.

You adjusted your position - shifted her weight in your arms so you could hold her with only one arm - and took her hands out of your mouth. 

‘Kim Haeun, I told you not to be friendly with strangers,’ you scolded her a tad too loudly - something you would have definitely regretted later at night when you were on your own in your bed, thinking back on the day’s happenings, but at that moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you simply couldn’t. Seeing her with a man your age had scared you, especially because it had been you who had left her alone, so if someone had happened to her, you would have had no one else to blame but yourself.

‘But he is not,’ your daughter insisted. ‘He is Hoyeon unnie’s friend. He’s also Seungkwan oppa’s friend. And he knows the oppa who made the frog cake, the bake,’ she counted all the people she was talking about on her tiny fingers, shoving her three fingers into your face at the end of her monologue.

You pressed your lips together to avoid an accidental scream and took a deep breath through your nose instead. This was when the stranger walked up to you and cleared his throat to gain your attention.

‘I’m sorry for scaring you. My name is Hong Jisoo and I’m close friends with the employees and the shop owner, so when Hoyeon had to go to the toilet, I offered to entertain the little lady since I’m still waiting for my coffee,’ he explained, shooting a reassuring smile towards your daughter that made you feel weird. Not necessarily because he looked like a creep, but because Haeun was suddenly on her best behaviour, beaming at the guy. ‘I can assure you that we were introduced to each other before she sat on my lap. She didn’t break any rules, right, princess?’

‘Haeun is a good girl,’ she puffed her chest out proudly while she tilted her head towards the stranger, Jisoo, who rewarded her with a pat on the head.

As you were watching the scene, you wondered whether this was your female lead moment in real life: a single mom whose daughter basically claimed a random handsome stranger as her oppa in the middle of a lovely coffee shop. You swore, one of the more talented screenplay writers could have built a very nice drama around it.

Except, Hong Jisoo was undeniably taken if the blonde girl who kissed his lips in front of Haeun was anything to go by.

‘Baby, can we go now? You know I need a new bikini for our vacation with the guys,’ she said, pulling on the guy’s arm like even a moment more in your company would have been a waste of her time.

You almost failed to swallow down your chuckle when you heard your daughter scoff at the newcomer. Almost.

‘It’s time for us to go, too,’ you exclaimed politely to draw the girlfriend’s attention away from Haeun and pulled the little girl more into your embrace to block her line of vision. You hadn’t been born yesterday. You knew that Haeun would have given this young woman the stinky eye for clinging onto her new friend if you had let her. She definitely spent too much time with her auntie. ‘I apologise for my reaction. Thank you for looking after her.’

‘It was my pleasure, no worries,’ Jisoo reassured you before one of the baristas called for his name and he walked up to the counter with his girlfriend hot on his heels.

Soon after getting his hands on his order, he was dragged out of the building. And you tried not to think too much into how it was only May, which was way too early for a vacation in your dictionary. It only made you feel poor because it just meant you had never been to any countries before where the weather was warm enough for a bikini so early into the year.

Since Haeun insisted on saying goodbye to all of her new friends, it took you a bit longer to leave the shop, but you did so with a bunch of free cupcakes (the baker assistant had messed up the frosting on a full tray of desserts in the morning and the baker, whose name you learned was Mingyu, was unwilling to put them behind the class display anyway) and a ‘See you later, princess!’ that you didn’t know what to do with. 

Had your daughter just been adopted by all the employees of Coffee Carat? It felt surreal, but then again, Haeun spent an awful lot of time with Seola these days, so you shouldn’t have been too surprised. That woman was a minx. Of course, she had taught your daughter how to wrap the whole world around her fingers.

You made a mental note to pay more attention to whom she interacted with in the future. She was still too young to pick up on malicious intentions. And while that day the two of you were lucky, there wasn’t any guarantee that next time you would be too.

You weren’t a homewrecker. The concept alone made you feel disgust and fury because even though you had never been cheated on, you could resonate with the grief one felt when their significant other was taken away from them. Still, when your daughter kept nagging you that she wanted to go back to Coffee Carat to visit her Jisoo oppa and Hoyeon unnie, you could only stand your ground for about a week.

You wished you had been half as stubborn as your little one. Then, maybe you wouldn’t have sounded like a broken record when you asked about Jisoo from the baristas for the nth time in such a short period of time like a sasaeng.

‘Oppa!’ You heard your daughter scream from the top of her lungs the moment the man set foot in the coffee shop, and you had half a mind to hit your forehead against the table or run, yet you stayed seated. At least, Haeun didn’t run to him without asking for your permission. She was just waving at him furiously with her pink crayon still in her hand.

In that nanosecond when it felt like everyone was looking at you and Jisoo’s eyes were yet to find the source of the scream, you came up with a semi-well-thought-out masterplan to put an end to your daughter delusions, but all the excuses and explanation were thrown out the window when the man smiled at the two of you. He said something to the grumpy barista behind the counter, then walked up to you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Yeah, you definitely had to have a conversation with him and Haeun about this situation before your daughter got too attached to him or rumours got back to his girlfriend about you looking for Jisoo at every chance you got.

‘In that an elephant?’ The man asked your little one, who immediately sensed the green light and started to talk about her drawing in much more detail than it would have been necessary. She even took her time to mention the baby elephant’s family and how she was attending the elephant school with her friends. She had a natural talent for storytelling and she lived off of the undivided attention Jisoo was giving her with his random questions.

The moment your brain aided you with the mental image of Haeun doing the same with her real dad, you knew it was time for you to put an end to their fun. It was too much, the way their casual conversation was messing with your head, making you see things that had never happened. (And would have never happened despite Inwoo’s love for his unborn child.)

You pinched your lower arm hard under the table and reached out for Haeun’s hand to remind her of your presence. Her big doe eyes, when she snapped her head in your direction, were adorable. She looked almost surprised that you were also listening to her story.

‘Sugar, can mom speak with oppa, too, for a second?’ You asked, inwardly cringing at the title, because the man was not your brother, your close friend or your lover. However, Haeun liked to refer to him as her oppa, so it made things easier. You would apologise for your rude behaviour later, right after you apologised for your daughter’s obsession with him.

‘Okay,’ Haeun agreed with a small nod as she turned back to her drawing and returned her focus to the elephant school. She hummed along with the radio like she knew the song they were playing even though you rarely let her listen to this type of music and poked her tongue out in concentration. These were clear signs that she wasn’t interested in whatever you had to say to her new friend.

‘Would you mind if I picked up your order with you? I could also use some more caffeine,’ you asked, hoping that he could read between the lines and realise that you wanted to be out of earshot from your daughter while you were talking. You wanted both of you to be able to speak your mind about how you thought you should have handled the issue with Haeun. You didn’t wish to hear his fake words regarding his bond with your daughter, but you also hated the idea of breaking the little girl’s heart when she had been so excited about meeting this man again.

‘Sure, you can even use my discount card,’ he offered with a small laugh while you stood up and pushed your now-empty chair closer to the table, so it wouldn’t be in the way for other customers in your absence.

It would have been a lie to say that the offer wasn’t tempting. You liked coupons and things in general that helped you save money, but it felt like a boundary you shouldn’t have crossed. He had already put up with a lot when it came to you and your tiny family and you barely knew more than a handful of things about him: his name, his relationship status, the fact that he and his girlfriend would go on a vacation in the near future and that he had a lot of friends who worked in this particular coffee shop.

Jisoo must have come to the same conclusion during your short walk, too, because as soon as you stood in the line, he turned towards you and said: 

‘Now that I think about it, I don’t think I caught your name last time.’

The bluntness of his statement made you laugh without meaning to, so you needed a couple of seconds to get back in your more serious mood, the one that you hadn’t possessed before you had turned into a mother. Six years in, and you still struggled to change between these two personas naturally. If anything, your effort must have looked comically forced because of how quickly your facial expression turned from carefree to firm.

Cursing yourself inwardly and simultaneously acting like you hadn’t noticed the surprise on Jisoo’s face, you straightened your back and told him your name. Your introduction was curt; you didn’t share any unnecessary information with the smiley man, which made you sound like you would have rather jumped in front of a bus than befriend him. Obviously, it wasn’t true, but you assumed you had sounded like that even though you would have never risked leaving your baby girl behind. You were her only family.

‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ Jisoo reached his hand out for a handshake that - because of your obvious confusion - served as a nice conversation starter: something that your introduction had clearly failed to be.

Impressed by how effortlessly he connected seemingly unrelated topics to each other, you let him tell you about his upbringing (apparently, he had been born in the United States), when he had come to South Korea and how he had met the guys (he had been minding his own business at a club in his second year in uni when Jeonghan had splashed ice-cold water at his face for allegedly stealing the barstool on his right from a cute girl who had been totally into him) and many other things you wouldn’t have considered sharing with a stranger. Anyhow, he clearly wasn’t of the same opinion, and you didn’t know how to make him stop without coming off as an ungrateful jackass.

‘And now Seungcheol is already married, and I’m pretty sure Jeonghan will ask Yoohyeon to marry him this year…’ he trailed off by the end of his monologue with something akin to longing in his voice, although you couldn’t have been a hundred percent sure. It also wasn’t your place to be curious. Whether he had wanted the same commitment with his girlfriend or not, whether it had ever caused fights between the two of them…

No, it wasn’t your business, you absolutely, utterly, wholly refused to make it yours.

However, Jisoo didn’t give you much of a choice; there were two more customers between you and the counter.

‘I’m happy for them. Actually, I’m happy for everyone. Would you believe it if I told you that two and a half years ago all thirteen of us were singles?’ He asked with a low chuckle before he dove into yet another story you had never asked about: how it had all started with Cheol, Hoyeon and this coffee shop.

‘Actually, what I wanted to talk about is related to Hoyeon-ssi,’ you cut him off at the first chance you got even though your daughter’s fascination with him wasn’t as related to the woman as you made it sound. It was a rather desperate attempt at taking control over the conversation without wasting the time you had in relative private. ‘You see, Haeun-ah has this misconception that everyone in this coffee shop - but especially you - is her new best friend, and I think we should find a way to break it down to her that it’s not how life works.’

‘Why not?’ Jisoo asked without a moment of hesitation, confusing you enough to make you stumble over your own words.

You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips as you were looking at him.

‘What do you mean why not?’ You asked once you found your voice again, letting him pull you towards the counter by your elbow gently in the meantime. Too fixed on waiting for his answer, you barely registered the movement.

‘Why doesn’t life work like that? I’m pretty sure everyone’s best friend was a stranger at one point,’ the man said and you furrowed your brows even more. Sure, what he was saying was on point, but that wasn’t what you had meant at all. What you had wanted to say was that your daughter should have been told that grown men and women didn’t form meaningful friendships with random children who weren’t related to them.

‘Yeah, I mean, it’s not like I can argue with that or want to argue with that to begin with, but the possibility of any of you staying in my daughter’s life is pretty unlikely, and I also don’t want her to want to come here too frequently to play with you when it’s your workplace,’ you said, proud of how coherent your reasons fell from your lips.

There was no way Jisoo could have misunderstood you again. At least, that was what you had thought until he opened his mouth and pointed it out that:

‘This shop isn’t my workplace.’

‘O-okay. It’s still not the point,’ you retorted, a bit more irritated than you would have liked to be, since you were not only in public but only a few metres from your daughter whom you didn’t want to show a bad example. Still, your urge to shake some sense into this man was growing exponentially. ‘Haeun-ah was trying to convince me for a week to bring her back here so she could play with you guys and I have a hard time saying no to her when she is so determined. I need your help to make her understand she is making you guys uncomfortable.’

‘Well, I can only speak for myself, but she doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. Mingyu was also happy to meet her and Seungkwan’s girlfriend was complaining the other day that she couldn’t meet her…’ he trailed off by the end of his sentence as though he wasn’t sure he should have kept going. You couldn’t put your fingers on the hesitation in his eyes until he took a breath and continued. ‘Isn’t it that she makes you feel uncomfortable?’

You didn’t know what to say to that. Because the possibility hadn’t even occurred to you until the accusation more or less intentionally hit you in the face. Was your daughter’s behaviour affecting you more negatively than anyone else? Could it have been that you made everything a bigger deal than it was because you were embarrassed by how freely she showed her affection for others while you were constantly trying to close yourself off from new people to not get hurt again?

‘Hey…’ Jisoo’s unexpectedly soft voice pulled you out of your head, and he offered you an apologetic smile as soon as your eyes refocused on him. ‘I didn’t mean to sound rude. It’s just that… you worry too much. Your daughter is adorable and she didn’t do anything wrong. She is free to come hang out with us in the shop on less busy days. To hang out with me,’ he reassured you while he also took you by the elbow again, leading you up to the counter. Oh! He was surprisingly good at keeping tabs on his surroundings. You hadn’t even realised that it was finally your turn to order, too stunned by his opinion about the issue you had clearly blown out of proportion.

‘Hi guys! What can I get for you?’ One of the female baristas asked at the same time Jisoo tried to ease the kinks in your shoulders with a light-hearted comment.

‘Who knows? She might get bored of us in a month or two. Adults aren’t as exciting as they should be with all that money and freedom they have,’ he joked, bumping his upper hand into yours with an easy-going smile.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

‘I…’

He was right. It might have taken your daughter two years to grow out of her Cinnamonroll and Kuromi obsession, it might have taken her half a year to not request chocolate cake for dessert every time she had had the chance, but she had indeed moved on with time. If you were lucky, she would get over this place sooner than her lost teddy bear she had cried over for three weeks last year.

‘It’s just the usual for me, Yeseo. And some…’ Jisoo turned towards you. ‘What would you like to drink?’ 

‘Me? I…’ The shock on your face shouldn’t have been as visible as it was, but you couldn’t help it. You just hoped neither Jisoo nor the girl behind the counter had enough nunchi to read you like an open book and question your sanity. Like seriously, why were you so damn speechless just because he wanted to order for you and seemingly didn’t mind hanging out with your daughter to protect her childlike innocence.

The bar was seriously low with you, wasn’t it?

You quickly cleared your throat and straightened your already straight back.

‘I’ll have a caramel frappuccino, thank you,’ you chose, one hundred percent intending to pay for your own drink when your phone started to ring in your pocket out of the blue. Sure, you had a couple of ongoing applications still, but they were either too old to hear back from or too new.

Afraid that it might have been your best friend who was, for some reason once again, in trouble, you fished the device out of your jeans and looked at the screen with a throbbing knot in your throat. It was a number you had never seen before.

You looked at Jisoo then the barista, not sure how much you owned for the frappuccino and when you should have told the girl that you wanted a sandwich and an animal-themed cupcake, too.

‘I think you should take it. Might be important,’ Jisoo pointed at your phone, his smile soft just like his eyes. If your head hadn’t been full of to-dos, worries and usual single mom stuff already, you might have had to actively remind yourself that he was taken.

Why was he so nice to you?

‘I’ll be back in a second,’ you promised at the end because you soon came to the conclusion that asking him to order for Haeun and you some food, too, would have been too complicated with that little time you had before the other person gave up on contacting you. You would just buy them after the call. ‘Thanks.’

Taking a few steps towards the double doors, you remained inside the coffee shop this time; however, you made sure you weren’t in the way to any of the staff members and customers and that the buzzing of the business wasn’t too loud around you, so you wouldn’t misheard any important piece of information.

The call barely took two minutes; the man on the other side of the line got down to business as soon as you introduced yourself and he double-checked your identity. It turned out, there were three group job interviews happening in an hour at their company building, and two people had cancelled on them at the last minute. HR had decided to contact those candidates who had almost made it into the second round and give them a chance to charm them in person. You were one of the lucky ones in case you could make it in time.

Their location was thirty minutes plus minus five from Coffee Carat. There was no way you would have turned down such an opportunity even if you believed you were at a disadvantage compared to the majority of the interviewees.

It was when you put your phone away and turned around that you suddenly remembered that you should have calculated a detour into your route when you had agreed to the interview. After all, Haeun was sitting by your table, colouring with Jisoo while munching on a piece of cake that shouldn’t have been in front of her to begin with.

You rushed up to the duo like a madwoman.

‘Haeun-ah. We need to go,’ you rushed her, crouching down next to her chair to be more at eye level with her. It usually helped with convincing her to do something she might not have liked because she felt like you were taking her seriously. Like she was a big girl who could understand certain things babies couldn’t.

This time; however, this trick didn’t seem to work. The cheesecake in front of her was too distracting, and so was Jisoo’s presence who had gotten a blank paper and some crayons in the meantime.

‘No! We can stay until dinner. Mom, you promised,’ she objected, holding onto the light pink crayon so firmly, her tiny little knuckles turned white.

You bit into your cheek from the inside to not scold her for making it hard for you when you didn’t have that much time to spare. It was your own decision to raise her the way you were raising her: allowing her to have an opinion and when safe, the freedom of choice. Still, it would have been nice if she had just gone along with your wish without the need to give her an explanation why you wanted to have a new job. She obviously wasn’t ready for any topic at that maturity level - even if you hadn’t gone into too much detail.

You wished you had more people to rely on when it came to these matters. Sure, you would have never regretted becoming a single mom, but for the love of God, you did miss Inwoo on days like this one.

‘I can stay with her for an hour or two. And I’m pretty sure the guys could also keep an eye on her in case something came up, which is highly unlikely,’ Jisoo offered. He lifted his hand to his mouth and lowered his voice as he whispered-shouted as if he was sharing a big secret with both you and your daughter. ‘I’m my own boss.’

‘Thank you, but I really shoul—,’

‘Yey! Please, mom, please! I want to stay with Jisoo oppa,’ Haeun exclaimed, totally hyped due to the idea as she was jumping up and down on the chair with her upper body. One glance at her happy smile was enough for you to realise that forbidding her to stay and taking her to your best friend after the man had already agreed to play with her would have been disastrous. In the best case scenario, she would have cried her eyes out while you carried her in your arms.

In the worst, you would have been the bad guy for at least an entire week and received the attitude a little longer. You wished Jisoo had discussed this with you in advance now that he made it clear that he didn’t intend to pop the little girl’s pink bubble as you had suggested slash requested a few minutes prior.  

It was hard to be grateful when you were also rightfully frustrated.

But dealing with these two was future-you’s problem. Present-you had an interview to attend to.

So you took the nth deep breath in less than five minutes and stood up from the ground. Then, you leaned down to kiss the top of your daughter’s head as a goodbye while making her promise to be on her best behaviour. 

‘Here!’ Jisoo pushed a paper cup into your free hand when you were about to walk up to your laptop and turn it off so it wouldn’t have unnecessarily died on you while you were away. ‘I heard you double checking the time for the interview and asked Yeseo to put your frappuccino in a paper cup instead,’ he explained, pointing at the side of the container with a pleased smile on his face. ‘I also wrote down my kakao ID, so you could add me and check on Haeun in case you’re worried or something.’

It was the most thoughtful thing a stranger had ever done for you; it was something none of your family members had done for you since your grandmother’s passing and that alone… It blew out the flickering flames of your anger.

Your voice was quiet but genuinely grateful when you thanked him. You packed your bag and left.

You didn’t contact Jisoo until you got to the location, but his reassurance and those photos he sent you with your daughter, both of them cheering on you with their fists raised for a lively “hwaiting”, took tons off your chest as you were sitting in the waiting room with ten other people.

You might not have been the most talkative or most well-dressed person at the interview, but you really believed that you did an amazing job at charming the HR representatives. And it was all thanks to Jisoo and his willingness to act as your temporary safety-net.

Walking out of the company building, you knew you couldn’t refer to him as a stranger any longer. He also deserved some compensation for his help. You just had to figure out what to do for him to pay off some of the imaginary debt.

Although the thought to buy Jisoo a cake for basically babysitting your daughter for free had crossed your mind, you had quickly come to the conclusion on your way back to the coffee shop that paying for sweets at his friend’s business might have been a better option. This way the money would have gone to someone he knew. Literal perfection.

Your almost childlike excitement was apparent in the way you entered Coffee Carat around two and a half hours after leaving your daughter with Jisoo. Your steps were lighter and your smile a tad wider than they usually were until your gaze fell on the empty table Haeun should have sat by and you recognised her pitched voice coming from a different one.

‘Take back! Take back! Take back!’ She screamed at a man you had never met before while both Jisoo and another unfamiliar person watched her hit the blond man’s upper hand once, twice, three times in less than ten seconds.

Your eyes grew wide in horror as you rushed up to the table, pulling the little girl away from the understandably annoyed stranger.

‘Kim Haeun!’ You raised your voice on purpose, to make her realise that she was in trouble for screaming and fighting someone so aggressively when you had raised her better. If this man had done anything wrong, she should have stayed away from him and asked for help from someone she knew she could trust.

Which reminded you of…

‘I’m so sorry for my daughter’s behaviour…’ you bowed your head at the blond man first and foremost, then turned towards Jisoo who was sitting across from him, undoubtedly enjoying himself. At least, he had been clearly doing so until your eyes met and the smile fell from his lips. ‘Can you tell me what’s going on?’

‘The bad man said bad things about Jisoo oppa,’ your daughter claimed, her pitched voice making it obvious that she felt upset about whatever this man had told her about her new best friend.

‘Sugar, please let them explain themselves first,’ you asked her, hoping that the nickname you always used to make her feel special helped soothe her nerves a little and if not, at least she realised you weren’t as angry with her as you had been when you had arrived. You still didn’t support violence, but you could also acknowledge that sometimes it was hard to contain one’s feelings, especially when it came to standing up for people they liked.

‘Sawry,’ she mumbled into the crook of your neck, suddenly a bit shy even though you could feel her head moving a little as though she was trying to steal glances at the three people at the table without you noticing.

She was definitely spending too much time with her aunt.

‘Hello. I’m Haeun’s mother. Can I ask who you are and what you said that upset my daughter so much? You see, she isn’t usually a violent child, so I’m a little surprised, that’s all,’ you tried to be as polite as possible while also demanding an explanation. If you did, you did not intend to sound like one of those entitled parents who believed their children could do no wrong, but on the other hand, you had this inner urge to take Haeun-ah’s side until she was proven guilty.

‘I’m Jeonghan, Joshua’s best friend. I was just asking him about his relationship since Cheol is already out and I want a free vacation. Nothing upsetting, really,’ the blond man informed you, his smug smile making him sound that much less sincere. If you wanted to be honest, you had a hard time believing that he was telling the truth, but it was also true that you didn’t understand everything that had left his mouth.

‘Who is Joshua?’ You asked, although what you really wanted to know was: why would his relationship have upset your daughter?

‘Your babysitter?’ The man threw the question at you instead of answering before he snapped his head in Jisoo’s direction like he wanted the other to come forward and confess.

You also wished he had spoken up without further nagging and explained what was going on. Was this man his friend? If so, how were the two of them related to the quiet, blonde woman and how his relationship could have given this man a free vacation?

No answer should have come with as many more questions as Jeonghan’s explanation did.

‘Yeah… That’s me. Jisoo is my Korean name, but most people call me Joshua actually. It’s my American name, I’m sorry,’ he cleared up the misunderstanding before he introduced his friends to you, bringing up stories he had already shared with you, so you could link their faces to their names and personalities more easily.

It didn’t help a lot, but you didn’t bother to enlighten him, because you were afraid to break his flow. At least, he was willing to answer all of your questions, which was a moderately good sign.

‘The bad man said oppa’s a ship acid, but it’s a lie! He has to take it and say sorry!’ Haeun chirped in in the middle of Jisoo - or Joshua, as most people apparently knew him around here - introducing Yoohyeon-ssi to you. The woman who was his friend’s girlfriend; the very same woman who would soon be asked to marry the blonde man if you had recalled the most recent story you had heard about these two.

Turning your head towards your daughter, you furrowed your brows. She looked so upset, like genuinely upset about Jeonghan’s comment on Jisoo that you didn’t have the heart to ask her to repeat what she had heard nor could you inquire whether she knew what acid meant in the first place.

‘Wrong,’ Jeonghan tsked, narrowing his eyes at your little girl like he was seriously trying to challenge her to call him a liar one more time. ‘I said he’s a relationship addict, because he is. This girl - whose name I didn’t even bother to memorise anymore - is his third girlfriend this year,’ he claimed, and when your eyes met and you showed no judgement or bewilderment, he used one of his hands to give emphasis to his reasoning. ‘We aren’t even halfway through this year!’

As you were shifting your gaze from Jeonghan to Jisoo, then to the blonde woman who was hovering over her laptop, fingers quick as lightning on the keyboard, the only thing you could think about was: well, that made a lot more sense than “ship acid”, didn’t it?

‘Jeonghan, please,’ Jisoo’s firm scolding fell from his lips the same moment Haeun started to yell from the top of her lungs:

‘Take it! Take it! You big liar!’

You had never wished more that the ground would split in two and swallow you at whole. Because while you understood that what your daughter wanted to say was “take it back”, you were pretty sure the majority of those who were giving you the judgemental stare and stinky eyes thought that Haeun-ah was already unhinged, at the tender age of six.

You hated only a few things less than misunderstandings.

‘Sugar, please stop picking fights,’ you warned the little lady, slowly putting her down on the floor so the unexpected change in height could calm her down a little. ‘Screaming at people and hitting them are also bad,’ you reminded her as soon as you crouched down at her level, simultaneously squeezing her little hand to make sure she knew you weren’t angry at her. She had every right to be upset. You would have never invalidated her feelings.

(Your parents had talked down to you while you had been still living with them too many times to even consider giving the same treatment to your own child.)

‘He says sorry, too,’ she demanded with a pout, having enough shame in her to stare at her feet instead of looking up at you, which made you a tad conflicted, because you would have liked to see her eyes. It always made it easier to read her - a skill quite handy when one had to raise a child.

You took a deep breath through your nose and tilted her head upwards with your index finger under her chin.

‘Okay. Let’s act like we are big girls and apologise first, hm?’ You said, phrasing it like a question to let her make the right decision consciously, so the next time anything like this happened, she would remember what to do. Guiding her through these experiences always worked better than forcing her to do the right thing.

It took her a few seconds, but eventually, Haeun nodded and turned towards the blond man with her entire body. Her tiny arms were pressed against her sides as she bent her back in a 90-degree angle, over-emphasising her politeness. You bit into your lower lip to not scold her for overdoing it on purpose.

‘Haeun is sorry,’ she said, then straightened her back and looked up at Jeonghan expectantly. 

It made Jisoo crack up and even the quiet lady let out a muffled chuckle while she kept her eyes on the screen. 

You weren’t exactly counting the seconds, but you knew the silence had stretched too long when your daughter started to get fidgety and one of the baristas, whose name you hadn’t learnt yet, came up to your table with some snacks and five glasses of cold beverages: orange juice for your daughter and coffees for all four of you.

‘Jeonghan,’ the blonde girl said with a tired sigh. ‘Apologise to Haeun.’

‘Why? Everyone knows I’m right,’ the man huffed, mumbling something under his nose about Jisoo’s new girlfriend and how it was a waste of money to buy her a new bikini because there was no way they would have lasted that long. ‘Also, I’m not sorry at all. It would only teach her the wrong lessons,’ he claimed, his smug smirk ridiculously potent as he let his gaze fall on your daughter, then looked up at you to add: ‘We wouldn’t want that, would we now?’

Too shocked to even part your lips or let out a scoff, it didn’t surprise you that you weren’t the first one to react. What did take you aback, though, was the elegance the blonde woman handled the situation with. You would have never been able to keep your facial expressions that neutral or your voice so stable while you told your significant other that they were less mature than a six-and-a-half-year-old child.

‘If you’re so keen on teaching the right life lessons to people, I have one for you, too,’ the woman said before she put her hand on the top of her laptop’s screen and turned her head in her boyfriend’s direction, completely unbothered. If it could have, your jaw would have fallen on the ground because of how badass she sounded; like she knew she had the upper hand and wasn’t afraid to make it clear to everyone. ‘Making bets on your best friends’ relationships is seriously messed up. I’ve already told you this, haven’t I?’

‘Yeah, but…’

‘But it’s a tradition and everybody does it anyway,’ she cut Jeonghan off by finishing the sentence for him in the same manner like she was talking about their next grocery shopping. You crouched down behind Haeun-ah and pulled her small body against your chest, not sure if you were allowed to leave. It was a very weird situation; it made you feel out of place and as a mom, that was something you really hated.  

Your eyes were pleading when you looked up at Jisoo; however, he was busy with the drama that was unfolding in front of you, so he clearly didn’t get the memo. You held onto your little girl more firmly and leaned close to her ear so you could tell her that you were about to leave.

Except…

Yoohyeon turned off her laptop and reached out to your daughter to ruffle her hair with a soft smile. She looked beautiful. So calm and approachable, you had this silly urge to go to her for advice even though she was practically a stranger.

‘Hey, big girl! I’m sorry this rude ahjussi upset you, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure he will sit long enough in the corner to learn his lesson,’ she reassured Haeun that Jeonghan would be punished, which seemed to satisfy the little lady considering the firm nod she gave to the woman.

‘What do you mean by that?’ Jeonghan asked in a slightly pitched voice, but his girlfriend wasn’t having it anymore. She just put her laptop into her laptop bag in a leisurely way.

‘I’ll take the subway to my publisher’s office,’ she stated, nodding towards Jisoo at first, then in your direction. What Jeonghan got was a pat on the shoulder and a cold yet somehow still affectionate: ‘Call me when you’ve grown up. I’m ordering chicken for dinner.’

With that, she was out the door like she had never been there.

‘I think it’s time for us to go, too,’ you jumped on the opportunity before any of the men could have broken out of their stupor and taken their anger out on you. Well… more like Jeonghan, since you seriously doubted Jisoo had any reason to be angry with you, but who knew? Bro codex and such things did exist and they were close friends.

You were acquaintances at best and the most fun people to spend time with according to your daughter. 

‘But mom… my juice!’ Haeun pouted; however, this time you decided to put your feet down and use your physical advantage as it should have been in tough situations: you lifted her off the ground and looked around in search of her papers and crayons.

‘Where are your drawings, sugar?’ You whisper-asked while scanning the area around where your previous table had been to no avail. Which was both comforting because it meant your stuff hadn’t been left behind unsupervised, but also frustrating because those pieces of papers clearly weren’t on the new table, either.

‘In my princess folder,’ she informed you like there was no other place those drawings could have been and you sighed, because as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t brought any folders with you that morning and even if you had done, she didn’t own a princess one to begin with. ‘It’s behind Jisoo oppa,’ Haeun gave you another direction, most likely sensing just how lost you were still.

You furrowed your brows and shifted your gaze to Jisoo, who was already looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

‘I’m sorry, but could you give me her stuff? We’re going home,’ the words fell from your lips kindly, secretly hoping that if you spoke quietly enough, you could have stayed under his best friend’s radar. You genuinely didn’t want to fight - not in public, not with a grown ass man who was acting like a child and especially not with the friend of someone you were already indebted to. If you had done that, you would have set yourself up for a disaster for sure, and only stupid people did that.

With Haeun in your arms, you couldn’t have afforded to be stupid anymore.

‘Oh? Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s no problem,’ Jisoo exclaimed a bit clumsily, quickly turning his back to you so he could fish the folder and all the crayons out of his own bag.

You snatched them both out of his hands with a quick ‘Thank you.’

On your way towards the front door, you could feel your daughter peeking out from behind your shoulder, watching the two men, but you didn’t care. You marched towards the street with all your might and didn’t stop until the nearest subway station.

You just knew Seola would have laughed at you if she had seen you bolting from the scene.

It was Jisoo who sent the first personal message to you via kakao, and you were so taken aback by how unrelated it was to anything you had ever talked about, you had half a mind to ask your daughter whether she had said anything funny about you to the man. After all, why else would he have sent you a One Piece meme in the middle of a boring Wednesday. A Zoro one on top of everything. Were you too basic?

Maybe. But even so, he shouldn’t have known. So you asked him whether he had messaged the wrong person and from there, the rest was history.

You didn’t text daily, but he asked you about your job hunting frequently (even went as far as sending you job advertisements that didn’t require more than a high school diploma), how Haeun-ah was doing at school and your opinion on cute date ideas that he found nice and also doable but his male friends made fun of. Overall, it didn’t take longer than three weeks and you started to refer to him as a friend in your head.

Still, how you had ended up at a pub with a very drunk Jisoo at 11PM on a Friday night when your daughter was having a sleepover at her aunt’s place was beyond you. On the other hand, when you gave it a serious thought, you had indeed seen his best friend making fun of his relationship a few weeks prior, so was it really that surprising that he had reached out to you when his girlfriend had dumped him? You didn’t think so.

‘Yes, she looked sexy in the red one, but is it really worth breaking up over?’ He threw the first ridiculous question at you as soon as you arrived and took a seat next to him at the main bar.

You called over the bartender and asked for a juice and a glass of iced water.

‘Jisoo…’ you called out to him, peeling his fingers off his half-finished beer. ‘It might sound like I’m taking Jeonghan’s side, but I really don’t think she broke up with you because of the bikini,’ you tried to comfort him, although you were unsure whether your words were doing the job or only upsetted him more.

So far, he looked more confused and lost than anything. 

‘But she said so! She got mad at me when I gave her the black one. She said I’m a possessive pig and she can’t take my conservative ideas anymore,’ he croaked, making a weak attempt at getting his beer back, but you were faster.

The tears in his eyes and on his cheeks made your heart hurt. Especially because it had been you who had insisted that his ex-girlfriend would be happy to get either of the bikinis he had chosen for her as the thought mattered more than the gift itself. You still didn’t believe that the girl’s reason for dumping Jisoo was more than a cheap excuse, but you did feel partly responsible and that sucked.

‘If she thought that way of you, that just means she wasn’t the right one for you,’ you said, the words one hundred percent true and yet… You weren’t sure they were as comforting as you had intended them to be. Even to your ears, they sounded a tad too cliche to convey just how worried you were about him.

The bitter chuckle that left Jisoo’s throat only proved it further that he didn’t believe you. And why would he have? One and a half months ago you hadn’t known about each other’s existence.

So you were grateful when the bartender served you your drinks. It gave you an opportunity to divert the topic without sounding too insensitive.

‘Here,’ you put the glass of water into Jisoo’s hand, slowly brushing a few strands out of his forehead without realising how intimate it could have seemed to people who didn’t know you and the way you comforted people ever since you had become a mom. ‘Do you think you can finish the whole glass for me?’

The moment your eyes met, the unintended implication behind your words hit you like a bullet train, and your cheeks decided to throw you under the bus: both sides dressed in a dark shade of ruby red. Naturally, it was you who broke eye contact first.

‘I must have messed up pretty bad,’ Jisoo came to the conclusion a couple of heartbeats later, drawing your attention back to him, both of your eyes fixed on the glass in his hands he was playing with. You wished you had known what to say, but it was difficult, because you didn’t know what made him say that. The dates he had organised (at least, the ones he had told you about) had sounded both cute and fun. You would have loved going on any of them if you had wanted to be honest. Not to mention that he had taken his girlfriend on a date around three or four times a week, which was more frequent than the average as far as you could tell. ‘She couldn’t even stay with me until the group vacation and we’ll leave in two days.’

You frowned, genuinely bewildered that Jisoo would have preferred getting dumped after the vacation like that wouldn’t have meant he was being used.

You took a sip from your juice and reached out to his hand to lift his own glass in front of his lips. He needed to sober up real quick before his intoxicated brain could have convinced him that he should have contacted the girl to ask her to join them for the trip or something. Nah, not under your watch.

‘Why would you want to be with someone who clearly isn’t in love with you?’ You inquired, slowly turning towards him with your entire body.

You let your eyes loiter over his bent figure, his puffy eyes and the dried snot above his lips and on the back of his hand. He looked worn down and his wrinkled clothes didn’t help much with his overall appearance. Should you have called one of his friends to pick him up? Was it really okay for you to see him like this?

‘Is this why you’re not with your baby daddy anymore?’ His question came out of nowhere, hitting you in the guts without any kind of warning. His bluntness rendered you speechless while your knuckles turned white around your drink.

The indirect mention of Inwoo made you wish you had ordered something stronger, because this wasn’t a topic you were ready to share with Jisoo or anyone who hadn’t known about your history already, especially when the other party wasn’t a hundred percent conscious. It might have been easier if you could have said that you had stopped loving each other at one point, but that hadn’t been the case. For the two of you, love had simply not been enough.

You stalled, taking another sip from your drink, contemplating whether you should have stayed silent, called for the bill and left or answered his question honestly. 

In the end, you decided to lead by example and be the bigger person (like how you raised your kid).

‘No. We were still in love when we parted ways.’

Jisoo snapped his head in your direction at a speed that should have made his head dizzy and gave you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. Though, his eyes did make you feel like you were from a different planet.

‘Then why would you do that? You have a child together!’ He exclaimed, obviously upset about the part of the truth you had revealed. ‘Haeun alone should have been enough to stay together, but you’re saying you were still in love?’

Listening to his accusation - because it felt like an accusation to you - you clenched and unclenched your jaw, trying your best to keep your cool; however, it was difficult. Because he not only acted like you had failed your daughter, like you were selfish for not fighting for your relationship harder, but he was calling you out on all of these at a public place, raising his voice in frustration as though he had any business getting upset.

‘Stop that,’ you retorted, spatting each word into Jisoo’s pale face. ‘You don’t get to judge us when you know nothing about our situation,’ you started, taking a drawn out breath before you kept going: ‘Do you really believe Haeun wasn’t enough for us? Inwoo couldn’t wait to see her. He wanted to give us the best life, and he would have if the circumstances allowed it, so think twice before you say anything like that ever again,’ you warned him, lifting your left hand in front of his face to cut him off before he could have thought of adding anything else to your conversation.

For the first time in a while, the silence was suffocating in Jisoo’s company, but you did your best to shut it out and concentrate on the cold drink in your hands. He was drunk, and while it shouldn’t have been a passable excuse, it helped you not hold grudges against him for being so insensitive. Love and relationships were clearly sensitive topics for the both of you.

‘I’m sorry. I crossed a line,’ the man spoke up once he emptied his glass as if he had been afraid to draw your attention at himself before he had at least done this much for you. Which was ridiculous, but also a tad bit cute.

‘Yeah, you did,’ you agreed in a heartbeat, refusing to downplay just how wrong he had been when he had judged you and your ex. ‘But now you know better, so I forgive you,’ you added, sending a small albeit genuine smile in his direction, which he reciprocated with only a couple of seconds of delay.

You made Jisoo drink a second glass of water after that, and you spent the following half an hour in relative silence before he sobered up enough to be able to walk in a straight line with minor assistance from your side. You used his card to pay for his bill, then led him outside where your taxi was already waiting for you, not letting go of his elbow until you were both sitting comfortably in the backseat.

It didn’t take a minute and his head fell on your shoulder. His snoring was quiet but audible due to how close he was to you. You also couldn’t ignore the shiver his warm breath sent down your spine whenever it fanned over your neck.

‘Miss, we have arrived,’ the old taxi driver informed you, politely asking you if you needed any additional help with your company, but you declined the help for two reasons. 1) It was Jisoo’s place, not yours, so you weren’t sure you were allowed to make that decision. 2) He had been sober enough to get in the car without much trouble, so you hoped he wouldn’t have collapsed on you on your way to his flat.

‘Thank you. I’ll pay by card,’ you said and used your own card to pay for the ride after you shook Jisoo awake. You got out of the vehicle first, but you held the door for him and even helped him with his balance when his feet touched the pavement.

The thought that you should have asked the old man to wait for you crossed your mind only after you got inside the building, so it was clearly too late to rush out and make him stay an extra ten minutes or so. Agrr. You would need to call for another car once you made sure Jisoo got in bed just fine (and had some painkillers and a glass of water on his bedside table for the following morning).

‘I’m heavy,’ the words were mumbled against your shoulder when in the elevator, Jisoo lost his balance for a sheer moment and bumped his forehead into the crook of your neck.

He was such a mess, but you still decided to take a small part of his body weight on you for the remaining distance as you helped him straighten up and let him swing his arm over your shoulder. He was heavy, but lucky for him, you were used to carrying a stubborn and sleepy six-and-a-half-year-old in your arms on a daily basis, so you could manage.

‘Jisoo…’ you tried to gain his flickering attention when you stopped in front of his unit. ‘We need your keys or your code,’ you reminded him and turned your head deliberately when he reached out to the panel, because even though it wouldn’t have hurt anyone if you had known his code, you didn’t want to disrespect him by taking advantage of him when he was clearly in a vulnerable state. 

Once inside, you made him sit on the cushion attached to the shoe rack, a built-in mirror and the hanger with his jackets, then helped him untie his shoes that he had previously tried to get rid of with his heels and toes. So lazy.

‘Where is your bedroom?’ You asked after a deep breath, looking around in the flat with your hands on your hips. It had a really neat interior, which genuinely surprised you, because Jisoo didn’t always come off as someone organised to you, but if you wanted to be honest, you weren’t even sure whether he lived alone, so what did you know?

‘There,’ he pointed towards the hallway on your right, and you deemed his direction helpful enough to wrap your hands around one of his arms and pull him after you.

As it soon became obvious, the flat was a lot bigger than you had initially assumed - now it made more sense why there were only three front doors on the floor when your apartment complex had twice as many -, but you still managed to find his room on second try, right after you peeked into a room full of boxes and unpainted ceramic.

‘You know…’ Jisoo started as soon as you helped him sit on the edge of his king sized bed and modestly turned your back to him so he could get out of his worn clothes. You let out a soft hum to indicate that you were listening. ‘You and Haeun should come to the group trip with us,’ he said, turning your entire body tense and hot with his claim.

The fact was, you knew Haeun would have liked to go on a vacation with her new besties and would have also loved to see the sea, since she rarely got the opportunity. On the other hand, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jeonghan’s claim which started to sound more and more true to you: Jisoo was a relationship addict. And while you weren’t so self-assured to believe he suddenly wanted you, he had been just dumped.

What was the guarantee that you and your daughter wouldn’t have been the replacement.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ you answered honestly, trying not to empathise with the man’s disappointment when a small hum was torn from his throat. Obviously, you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings even more, especially that day, but you were a mom, and you had to put your daughter’s emotional wellbeing first.

You didn’t want her to realise at one point during the trip, or later in life, that she wasn’t the first choice, especially to someone she clearly held dear to her little heart.

‘I’m grateful for the thought, though,’ you made an attempt at lessening the blow, but it could have easily been too late considering how quiet Jisoo became.

To ease some of the tension, you decided to leave his room and look for the kitchen, so you could bring him some cold water and painkillers before you left.

At the end, neither your consideration, nor his gratitude made your goodbyes less awkward. Even though you tried. You both honestly tried.

It might not have been the most healthy way of dealing with the issue, but the two of you never brought up the vacation after that - you didn’t ask him to send slash show you pics of the trip with his friends and he didn’t elaborate on how he had felt or how much fun he had had while being surrounded by a bunch of couples. Would you have liked to know if Jisoo was mentally alright? Yes. You cared about him more than you let him in on. However, you were determined to not bring it up even though the number of texts you sent to each other sky-rocketed after you had taken care of his drunk ass.

If you wanted to be honest, you were surprised that despite the outrageous comments he had made and the discomfort here and there throughout that night hadn’t gotten in the way of your slowly forming friendship. But then again… You weren’t the only one who had gotten closer to the man. Your daughter was very much the same if not worse. After all, unlike you, Haeun formed bonds with many of Jisoo’s friends, including the blond man with whom she picked a fight every damn time they met.

Were the two of you invited to taste-test the new recipes Mingyu had come up with? Jeonghan made a comment on your daughter’s pigtails and how she would become a pig if she ate a piece more, which ended up in a screaming contest. Were you spending your free Saturday in the coffee shop with Jisoo and Haeun who were exchanging their drawings every ten minutes to create something pretty together while having fun? Jeonghan criticised Jisoo’s drawing skills and your daughter just couldn’t let it slide. It was insane, and you didn’t blame Yoohyeon for sitting at a separate table in the corner with her laptop whenever it got out of control. You wished you could have done that, too. 

Anyhow, apart from these extreme interactions, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed spending time with some of the guys and their girlfriends. You even went on a girls night out with Hoyeon, Seola, Sooryeon, Eunseo, Miri and Zhixiao two weeks after their holiday since they wanted to get to know you, “the girl who let Joshua down gently before he could have talked her into getting together with her” to quote from word to word, and your best friend. You thought it was a little rude of them, but Hoyeon was also part of the gang that made bets on their friends’ relationships, so it could have been worse.

‘You don’t want to come anymore?’ Jisoo’s unsure question dragged you back to reality, your unfocused gaze falling on him before you brushed aside the memories that were occupying your mind. ‘We could take a rain check on the studio tour if you rather went home. It was a long day.’

‘Hm?’ Your eyes widened a tad as you were trying to comprehend what he was referring to. A long day… You did have an unusually productive day that Saturday, but nothing you couldn’t handle with two or three cups of green tea or coffee and some sugary goods. ‘No, it’s fine. I already promised Haeun-ah and I’m not that tired anyway.’

Jisoo gave you a onceover, but refrained from making another comment. Instead, he lifted his left hand with your daughter’s princess backpack in it and his right hand, too, that the little girl was holding onto while sipping on her orange juice.

‘We’re good to go then,’ he exclaimed, shaking his hips left and right with a big smile when your daughter did the same, making your heart do a silly little flip due to the adorable sight.

You scolded yourself mentally.

‘Okay, just give me a sec,’ you asked, quickly looking around, then checking your bag to be sure you had everything on you: your id card, phone, charger, powerbank, house keys and of course, your wallet, too. ‘Let’s go!’

On your way to the front doors, you bid your goodbye to everyone who had a shift that day, then followed Jisoo to his car. Since he didn’t have a car seat especially for Haeun, you told him that you would sit in the back with her in your lap, and thanked him when he took your stuff out of your hand, so he could put it along with your daughter’s princess backpack on the passenger’s seat, where they were easier to access.

‘Vroom, vroom,’ Haeun exclaimed happily, mimicking Jisoo turning the steering wheel from the middle of the backseat since it was rare she had the chance to ride a car. You didn’t have one; you used public transportation whenever you weren’t in a rush, which you tried not to be in. You weren’t a big fan of spending extra money on cabs when it wasn’t an emergency.

‘Are you excited, princess?’ At the first red light, Jisoo started a conversation, making you wonder whether he was this good with kids in general or it was only Haeun whom he treated so well. You also wondered whether he was an only child. Did he have any relatives close to your daughter’s age? Would it have been weird to ask so out of the blue?

You pressed your lips together and decided to file it for another time. You didn’t want to cut their conversation about pottery short with your sudden interest in Jisoo’s personal life.

‘I want to make a dinosaur. And a helicopter,’ Haeun exclaimed zealously, her exaggerated hand gestures coming alarmingly close to your face, although you didn’t budge. You simply squeezed her sides gently with your hands, to remind her where she was, pressing your lips to the top of her head to show affection.

‘You can make a dinosaur mug, hm? Helicopter figures are too fragile, sugar,’ you informed her in a small voice as you brushed a stray mop of hair behind her ear, fixing her messy hair a little without redoing her braids.

‘Fridge-aisle? What is that?’ Haeun asked with big, curious eyes. To show you that she really wanted to learn something new that day, she shifted in your lap and turned towards you as much as she could, tilting her head just a tad to the left. ‘Is it like ice-cream?’

Her guess made you smile widely. She might have been pretty far from the truth this time, but it wasn’t the most hilarious one she had ever made. That title went to her drawing of flaming mangos (flamingos) when her class had to illustrate a story that their kindergarten teacher had read them in school. You had it framed in your living room, next to her four-year-old birthday picture.

‘No, it’s not. Fragile means it’s easy to break,’ you corrected her, which made her pout for a couple of seconds like she was trying to picture a fragile helicopter figure in her head.

When she succeeded, she acknowledged your explanation with a nod and a loud: ‘Okay!’

During the rest of the ride, you joined in on their discussion about the best dinosaurs, but let them decide which art styles and eating utensils they preferred and whether they wanted to make matching sets or individual items. It was a surprisingly adult conversation, and you were grateful to Jisoo for not only taking your daughter seriously, but also taking her opinion into account.

A tiny, insignificant voice in your head reminded you that he was treating her the way you wanted to raise her from the get-go, but you quickly shook your head to get the idea out of it just how compatible your approaches were.

‘Get ready for the last turn, princess. We’re about to park the car,’ Jisoo informed the little girl, and you could see him checking on her through the mirror to make sure her arms were in position for the manoeuvre. The whole scene tugged on your heartstrings.

As soon as you got the green light from Jisoo, the two of you got out of the car: you went to grab your bags and your daughter sprinted to the man, who was waiting for her close to the entrance with his hand held out.

‘So… this is my potter studio,’ he let both of you inside the building with his name on it, the keys dingling in his hand as he pointed at one part of the interior after the other.

It was a nice shop, not at all overwhelming despite the professional equipment, pre-made, unpainted ceramic designs, number of paints and brushes one could have chosen from and all that jazz. In fact, at first glance, this place was a lot more organised than the room you had seen at his home.

‘You can both make the plates and mugs yourself or just pick them out from those selves and paint them,’ he explained kindly at the end of the VIP tour that apparently included places regular customers couldn’t see for themselves, such as the room where he baked the clay and his own office with a mini fridge full of fruit juices, soda and snacks.

‘Make, make! I want to make mugs and plates,’ your daughter insisted, jumping up and down excitedly while holding onto Jisoo’s hand. If it had been any other person, except for Seola, you would have felt uncomfortable watching her acting so loud and borderline obnoxious, but at some point, it seemed, you subconsciously accepted the fact that the man didn’t mind her overly-friendly behaviour.

You didn’t notice that a soft smile had made an appearance on your face while you had been watching their adorable duo until Jisoo looked at you from above his shoulder and caught you red handed. You gulped, resisting the urge to bite into your cheek from the inside out of embarrassment.

‘It might take a while,’ he mouthed the words, and it took you a couple of seconds to realise he was talking about the plates and mugs Haeun-ah was insistent on making from scratch. You furrowed your brows, not sure what he meant by it until he specified: ‘Days.’

“Days” meant multiple sessions, which you had to at least try to avoid to ease your heart a little, even though you were aware: now that Haeun knew she had the opportunity to design everything herself, it was almost impossible to talk her out of it.

‘Sugar…’ you walked next to her, tapping her shoulder to gain her attention before you sat on your heels by her side. ‘Making plates and mugs takes a lot of time. You won’t be able to paint on them tonight,’ you started, giving her time to process small parts of the information first instead of overwhelming her with too many details at once.

You pressed your lips together lightly when Jisoo crouched down to her level as well as if he was a part of the conversation despite remaining sile—

‘You will need to wait two or three days, because the plates need to dry first,’ he explained with a patient smile on his face, caressing your daughter’s chubby cheek like she was his or something. What took you aback the most in the unusual sight was Haeun-ah enjoying the gesture so much from someone other than you or your best friend when you had seen her swat away the hand of her aunt Seola’s parents, her warm-hearted homeroom teacher and the neighbourhood ahjumma, too, although the old lady had even offered her some sour candies - her then favourites. ‘Do you think you can wait that much?’

Haeun did that thing when she puckered her lips deep in thought for a couple of seconds, then she nodded firmly, visibly determined to act like how she thought big girls would.

‘I can,’ she exclaimed, and you pressed your lips together, swallowing back objections that you knew rooted in your own insecurities. You didn’t want to impose on Jisoo’s kindness, you didn’t want to rely on someone too much. You didn’t want to get too comfortable around him - or anyone, really - just to realise later in time that he was only a temporary part of your life.

You didn’t notice you lost focus for a second until your daughter pulled on your arm to get your attention.

‘Mom! Can I? Can I? I can,’ she pleaded, making you steal a quick glance at Jisoo who was watching your interaction with twinkles in his eyes. He looked so soft at that moment, just watching your daughter trying to persuade you to bring her back to the studio multiple times, so she could have plates she made from scratch (or well… of clay, but that wasn’t the point).

‘Is it really okay? I can only bring her here after school or on weekends when I’m off work,’ you reminded him, because while you had already submitted your resignation letter, you had to keep working for the cleaning company a month longer.

‘You are always welcomed here after opening hours. Don’t worry about that,’ he reassured you, and a part of you wanted to tell him to take it back: that he shouldn’t have thrown these kinds of promises around like confetti, but wouldn’t that have been weird? If you had gotten so offensive when he was nothing but kind to you and Haeun-ah?

‘Thanks,’ you ended up saying like any normal person without abandonment issues would have done so, then gave in to his nagging and chose a mug for yourself, one from the shelves that was already pre-made and was waiting for someone to paint on it.

Your anxiety didn’t disappear immediately; however, every time you took a glance at your daughter happily swinging her legs back and forth on the chair Jisoo had made her sit, giggling at the weird shapes her mugs and plates took because of her inexperience with clay and pottery eased your nerves a little. At the end, you felt you made the best decision for the little one, and that was all that mattered.

It had been a while since you had let yourself get immersed in something fun and relaxing; as a single mother, your focus had to be on Haeun-ah 24/7 even though the older she grew, the less time she spent with you due to her studies and her slowly growing friend groups and responsibilities. She might have only been six, but your society was obsessed with grades and special talents, thus you encouraged her to hone her skills and pursue her interests regardless of how silly they appeared to be from an adult’s point of view - no matter how worried you were that you put too much on her plate whenever you agreed to sign her up for extra classes.

So the fact that you didn’t notice three hours going by while you were decorating your mug was both shocking and understandable. You had used to draw sketches of people and random interior designs when you had been in high school, hovering over your notebook for hours without a care for the world. You could hyperfixate on the smallest, most insignificant details when you had time. It was just… usually you didn’t have that luxury, at least, not anymore.

‘Woah! I didn’t know you were so good at painting!’ Jisoo’s surprisingly quiet voice pulled you back to the present, the warm drinks in his hands filling the air with the unmistakably sweet scent of chocolate and cinnamon. ‘I made us some hot cocoa and spiced it up with a little bit of rum to fit the occasion,’ he informed you before he nudged you with his feet and urged you to take one of the mugs out of his hands.

‘Oh? So you were serious about the celebration?’ You asked a bit taken aback, but very much touched by the sentiment. Seola had already brought you a cake the day before when she had heard about the job offer you had been more than eager to accept, but Jisoo’s hot cocoa was just as appreciated if not more. After all, he didn’t have any best friend obligations to fulfil - if not some made-up bestie duties to your daughter who still hadn’t given up on claiming the man.

For some reason, the possibility of the latter made you laugh for the first time Jisoo had come into your life. Just putting him in the same group as Haeun’s playmates made you crack up. How absurd it was, really.

‘What’s so funny?’ Jisoo asked with a small smile in the corner of his mouth, his lips painted in a light shade of glossy brown from the hot cocoa. You took a sip from your own drink, then let it warm your numb fingers as you kept the porcelain mug in your hands on your lap.

‘I’m just happy, that’s all,’ you opted for a half-truth, slowly looking around in the interior of the studio. ‘Where is Haeun?’

‘There.’

You snapped your head in Jisoo’s way just to follow the direction his finger was pointing at. Immediately, your eyes landed on a pile of blankets in one corner of the couch near the counter where Jisoo kept the cash register and some documents that helped him identify which half-finished or finished product belonged to which customer.

‘She fell asleep while I put away her mugs. She wanted to make some matching plates, too, but by the time I prepared everything for her, she was out on the chair,’ he explained, your brain easily filling in the holes: him carrying her to the couch, which was undoubtedly the most comfortable-looking furniture in his studio, covering her with blankets and cleaning up after her at the professional table with the pedals and all.

You turned back towards him and shot a grateful smile at him, completely at loss of words. He hadn’t had to, but he had taken care of your daughter on your behalf anyway just so you could have painted in peace. That was something… something Inwoo would have done for you in many of your dreams when you had still held onto the picture of your happy family. Something that a significant other would have done, cherishing Haeun and you equally as if you had always been his.

‘Do you think she would feel left out if we celebrated without her? I made some hot cocoa for her, too - without the rum, of course -, but I didn’t have the heart to wake her,’ Jisoo inquired, and you just shook your head.

‘We can always celebrate with her another time. Let her sleep,’ you decided and lifted your mug for a toast despite how ridiculous it looked. ‘I will buy us samgyeopsal from my first salary. How about that?’ You asked, clinking your mug to his like you had just made a vow, then took a big sip from the drink.

The hot cocoa tasted sweet on your tongue, the rum burning your throat briefly yet pleasantly once the lingering mix of chocolate and cinnamon started to fade. It was perfectly made, and you couldn’t have helped but tease him whether he had taken a bartender course in the past to charm girls.

‘So what if I did?’ He asked back, playful. ‘Is it working?’

‘Isn’t that something you should know better?’ Your chuckle filled the room, the mug slowly yet steadily getting empty in your hand. It wasn’t that hot anymore, but it still brought warmth to you as you clung onto the porcelain.

‘It’s a secret, but…’ he leaned closer to you as though he was really about to spill the beans about something no one knew about. Instinctively, you leaned closer to him as well to meet him halfway, eager to hear the juicy details. ‘I’m not that good at reading the signs.’

You furrowed your brows and pulled away, so you could take a better look at Jisoo’s face. You weren’t sure just how serious he could be until your eyes finally met; then, staring at him with your lips partially ajar, you failed to contain your amusement.

He was serious.

‘Silly,’ you said as you got rid of the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes with the back of your hand. ‘That’s not a secret. Everyone knows that,’ you corrected him and acting on the sudden urge, you reached out with your empty hand and took his jaw between your fingers. The way you fondled his chin with your thumb was gentle, like you were trying to make up for your straightforward words with affection.

Unconsciously, a part of you might have wanted to do just that. Gentle touches, encouraging words, warm smiles, mutual vulnerability out in the open. Throughout the rest of the night, you shared stories with Jisoo that helped him feel less like a failure just because the rest of his friend group was more forward in life (from a conservative point of view), even the youngest ones like Chan and Seungkwan. At a weak moment, you even told him about Inwoo and his wife who had an adorable little boy together as far as you were concerned. You were happy for him, and for some odd reason, Jisoo called you strong for sounding so sincere.

‘I always feel bitter when I see my exes with other people. Especially when they are happy,’ Jisoo confessed and you hugged him to show your support, to show him that you didn’t think he was a bad person for being hurt and acting on those bitter feelings from time to time.

‘It’s okay to be hurt,’ you mumbled against his chest, patting his shoulder blade rhythmically to emphasise how much you meant every word.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, in each other’s embrace, then finished your fifth or sixth mugs of hot cocoa while sharing less emotionally loaded and more lighthearted stories with each other. It was a celebration after all.

A night that you knew would be hard to forget or ignore in the near future yet couldn’t regret anyway.

Days started to feel longer towards the second part of your notice period, although you knew that scientifically nothing had changed; each one of them consisted of twenty-four hours out of which you usually slept six or seven thanks to your daughter having an early curfew. Thus, you shouldn’t have felt as drained as you were when you showed up at Coffee Carat with Haeun on your next free Saturday. On the contrary, your body should have been overflowing with energy since your daughter had been nice enough to let you sleep in instead of asking you to prepare her breakfast first thing in the morning or demanding your attention simply because she had no one to play with.

So why were you dragging your feet one after the other like even something as mundane as walking took a lot out of you?

Maybe because your current manager was a real pain in the ass who took it upon himself to teach you one last lesson before your departure.

‘Mom! There, there!’ Haeun pointed at a random table close to the huge coffee bean sticker, where Jisoo and his friends were munching on sweet treats and talking about something that clearly divided the group. Unlike most of the time when Jeonghan was present, his girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

‘Calm down, sugar. Let’s order something first, okay?’ You squeezed her hand gently to help her focus on you, giving time for the guys to notice your arrival and also for your daughter to take a few breathers. The last thing you wanted was Haeun to pounce at them when they were clearly having a heated conversation. That would have done nothing good.

‘Oh…’ The pout that appeared on your daughter’s face was momentarily because as soon as her eyes landed on the chocolate balls dragon behind the glass display her chin quite literally dropped on the floor, her excited squeal filling the interior. ‘Mingyu oppa did it! He really did it! See?’ She pointed at the fun-looking dessert, rambling about how she had drawn a whole magical zoo for the baker during one of your last minute job interviews and how this dessert’s name was Yong-yong.

‘Hello there, little one. What can I get for you today?’ Seokmin asked with his trademark smile that did not waver, not even a little bit, when Haeun-ah started to tell him about her drawings and excitement to taste the most delicious-looking dragon princess she had ever seen. Was her statement a little alarming? Absolutely. But you supposed, she was old enough to tell non-existing animals from an actual cake, so it wasn’t like she wanted to eat a pet or a good old friend from her fairytale books.

‘I’ll have an iced cappuccino and please, some apple juice for Haeun,’ you added, immensely grateful that instead of jumping on the opportunity to turn his back on the two of you, the barista entertained your daughter with questions like which fantasy animal she would have liked to see in the coffee shop next time and whether princess Yong-yong was big enough in her opinion.

It took some time and some overly detailed answers from your overhyped chipmunk, but eventually you got your tray with your orders and were able to look for empty chairs in the customer area. Since you couldn’t be sure that the boys had come to an agreement or were still talking about something passionately, you would have preferred to have your own table near them, but of course, as soon as Haeun’s eyes landed on Jisoo’s open arms, she couldn’t stay still. She ran to him like he was her world.

You followed her slowly with slightly burning cheeks and greeted the others with a small smile, not sure whether it was okay if you took one of the empty chairs or you should have found a table to put your tray on.

‘Why are you just standing there? If you wanted to sit next to Joshua, you should have been faster, like the little gremlin,’ Jeonghan said with that shiteating grin on his face he somehow didn’t seem to know how to contain unless his girlfriend was giving him the silent treatment. Then, he was quick to be on his best behaviour. ‘Come on! Sit,’ he pulled an empty chair out for you across from Jisoo and your daughter at the same moment the little one pointed her tiny finger at the blond man and screamed:

‘Bad word!’ 

From the top of her lungs.

‘Sugar, we’ve already talked about screaming at people,’ you reminded her, not scolding her for what she had said, but rather for how she had said it.

‘You don’t even know what gremlin means,’ Jeonghan challenged Haeun, once again making you want to contact Yoohyeon to collect her man, although that would have been childish and you seriously should have been able to handle their bickering. It wasn’t that much different from fights on the playground.

‘You said so it’s bad. I’m Haeun. Kim Haeun,’ she explained her logic, making everyone else around the table chuckle and laugh at her reasoning.

‘Jeonghan. I’ve already told you, stop bullying her,’ Jisoo warned his best friend, earning a big smile from your daughter who sneakily darted her tongue out at Jeonghan when she thought no one was watching. Well, you obviously had your eyes on her and so had the blond man who mimicked the gesture without any hesitation.

Children.

‘Oppa!’ Haeun spoke up a moment after the momentary peace had settled as she pulled a chocolate ball off the almond-and-chocolate-coated pepero stick that served as the dragon’s spine. Jisoo let out a hum to make her aware that he was listening. ‘There will be a car day in school next Friday. Everyone’s mom and dad will come and tell stories about their job,’ she chatted, swinging her legs back and forth while sitting on Jisoo’s lap.

‘A Career Day? Sounds fun. Are you excited?’ Their conversation kept going on like none of you others had been sitting by the same table, but you didn’t mind it that much anymore, not since the night Jisoo had shown you his pottery studio (Haeun’s mugs and plates were already painted, so you were one meet-up from taking everything home). 

‘Yeah, so fun. But mom’s not coming,’ she said flatly, chewing on a chocolate ball in one minute and offering another one to Jisoo in another.

Your cheeks were burning, for a different reason this time: guilt. It wasn’t like you didn’t care about the Career Day at her school. In fact, you had been just as excited about it as she had been when she had first mentioned it to you, but unfortunately, your manager had refused to let you take off that day as part of the lesson he tried to teach you. You swallowed back a disappointed sigh and took a sip from your drink. It couldn’t have been helped.

‘Mom must be really sorry that she can’t make it, princess,’ Jisoo brushed a mop of hair out of Haeun’s face, then accepted a second chocolate ball from your daughter before he pointed at you and nudged the little girl’s shoulder.

Apparently this was the encouragement your daughter needed to share her snack with you, too. You accepted the dessert with a grateful smile that was dedicated more to Jisoo than her even if you would have never said that out loud. Especially not while you were sitting at the same table with Yoon Jeonghan.

You could already hear the guys whispering about how none of them would have thought that Joshua was such a dad(dy) material until you two had come into their lives. You had never been so grateful that Haeun still had a limited vocabulary and was as innocent as one could be at her age. Why would any of them have thought it was a good idea to joke about daddies around a little girl with no father figure in her life was seriously beyond you.

‘Oppa!’ Haeun exclaimed between two bites, letting Jisoo make her drink some of her apple juice as well before she blurted out with the biggest doe eyes: ‘Will you come to the car day like other dads do?’ 

The tension that followed could have been cut with a butter knife.

You didn’t realise you were sweating or that you started to breath heavily after her question; you honestly didn’t even notice the worried looks everyone at the table was giving you until Jeonghan put his hand on your shoulder and you snapped. You got up from the chair like it was burning you and excused yourself hastily before you rushed towards the double doors. There was no way your daughter was asking Jisoo to show up at the school Career Day like other fathers did. Your brain was making things up.

You needed some fresh air.

Later, when you would think back at this incident, you might have thought you were a little bit of a drama queen and unreasonable - since you stormed out of the building, leaving your daughter behind albeit in good hands -, but at that moment your focus was solely on getting as far away from the situation as possible. You had to think and you couldn’t do that in front of so many of Jisoo’s friends and your daughter who was literally beaming at Jisoo, hoping for an affirmative answer. When had you given her the impression that he was her father? When the hell had you made her believe that Jisoo could…

Why did she feel the need to have a second parent? And why hadn’t you realised that she had started to think more into her “friendship” with Jisoo than what it was? Did she want to have a dad so much? Had anyone made her feel like she had to have a dad to fit into your society?

You groaned, stressed. You had to go back and explain to her that she couldn’t have just claimed someone as her dad just because other children in her class had both a mother and a father. Maybe, it was time for you to tell her about her biological dad. God. You were so not ready for THE talk. It was decades too soon.

Centuries.

Okay, most likely just a couple of years, but still. You were a little out of it.

You flinched when someone touched your shoulder out of the blue. No warning. No soothing words. Nada.

Or maybe you just weren’t listening.

‘Hey, are you okay? What happened?’ Jisoo’s worried voice reached you through the fog, his caring attitude overwhelming all of a sudden. He shouldn’t have come after you, it wasn’t like it was his duty to check on you. The only person he might have had some responsibilities towards was your daughter and even that was a stretch in your mind on your darkest days.

You took a step further from him to distance yourself from his… him. However, Jisoo either didn’t catch on to your distress or genuinely believed that his closeness was that one thing you needed to get back to normal because the next thing you knew he was caressing your back with gentle strokes: up and down, up and down.

‘Talk to me,’ he coaxed you, which would have made your heart flutter in any other situation, but only added to your anxiety at that moment. He was doing it again: acting like Haeun and you were a package deal, like you were supposed to matter to him the same way Haeun did just because he had let your daughter claim him as her best friend. And the worst thing was that you just knew your ever so curious daughter could have been watching.

Jisoo was playing into her fantasy of a complete family, and you wanted to scream. 

‘You can tell me. We can work it out,’ Jisoo tried to reassure you when all you had got was your heavy breathing and even heavier silence.

You looked up at him with angry tears in your eyes and brushed his hand off you.

‘Give me a fucking minute,’ you snapped at him.

The shocked look in his chocolate brown eyes that slowly morphed into hurt filled you with guilt. You shouldn’t have said it like that. You should have had more patience with both him and this whole career day topic. It couldn’t have been healthy: the way you reacted to Haeun asking him to show up in school for her like other fathers did.

‘She… she wants you to be her dad,’ you croaked out eventually, when you mustered up the courage to look up at Jisoo and he was still there, waiting for you to come around patiently like you hadn’t just screamed his head off for caring about you.

You crouched down, too unstable to stand even a moment longer. You wished the street had been a little wider, so Jisoo’s friend could have placed some smaller tables in front of the shop, too, not just inside. You also wished that there were less people giving you the side eye when you leaned your back against Coffee Carat’s wall. Their judging didn’t help at all. 

Albeit with a visible distance between the two of you, Jisoo sat on the dirty street at an arm’s length from you and leaned against the shop in a similar way you did. You swallowed down the knot in your throat.

‘She just wants someone to be there for her, too. She didn’t say she wants me to be her dad,’ he corrected you, and before you could have opened your mouth and object, he let out a soft huff and cut you off by adding. ‘Look. I know you think I’m a relationship addict who can’t go a day without being with someone, but… I’m not playing with your daughter’s feelings, or with yours for that matter. It felt nice when she asked me to come since you can’t make it, but I will say no if that’s where your boundaries lie.’

You sucked in your lower lip and observed his face. He looked sincere; he sounded sincere. And a part of you was tempted to ask him to prove to you how much his words were really worth by rejecting your daughter. However, the thought of deliberately sabotaging your baby tugged on your insides in an awful way. You were awful - a selfish mother who was about to steal some of the wonders from her own child’s life because of her fears and insecurities. 

But weren’t you allowed to feel how you were feeling? Did you have to put Haeun-ah first all the time to be perceived as a good parent?

‘I just…’ you tapped the sensitive skin under your eyes with your thenar and looked upwards to prevent the unwanted tears from falling. You were a mess in public already, the idea of sinking even lower wasn’t a pleasant one. ‘I don’t want her to think that our family isn’t a good family without a dad.’

There it was, out in the open. Goodness, you could already hear the lecturing in your head how every good family, every healthy family needed both a father and a mother. How it was natural that your daughter was seeking a second parental figure, because that was how things should have been from the get-go. Your parents had made sure these words had been burnt into your very existence before you mutually cut ties with each other. Sometimes you wished, wishing hard enough could have made this universal truth untrue.

You pressed your palms against your ears and let your chin fall on your pulled up kneecaps. Just because you knew it was coming didn’t mean you had to like the scolding.

‘I don’t think you have to worry about that,’ Jisoo started, his voice having a tentative edge to it with a good reason. It was a sensitive topic, and you appreciated that he handled it like one. ‘On the other hand, I wouldn’t call your family small though. Sure, you’re a single mom, but whenever Haeun talks about her family, she talks about her aunt Seola, too. Three people is pretty normal sized to me,’ he shot an encouraging smile in your way, and those unsaid words he might have been too afraid to say out loud after your breakdown were obvious. Haeun had him, too, now, whether you labelled him as a dad, an uncle or an oppa - whether you liked it or not.

You looked up to the sky and took a deep breath. You couldn’t decide whether it would have been appropriate to laugh aloud at that moment, but you did it anyway. Your reality started to resemble a 50-episode-long tv drama and you just couldn’t keep up with the daily updates. 

‘God. How is this real? We’re practically strangers,’ you groaned, unsure if you really had the right to put so much responsibility on Jisoo’s shoulders when he had no obligations towards you and your daughter.

He had shown up in your life so out of the blue, so randomly, what had made him so different from anybody else in Seoul?

‘In that… I will take full offence. I thought we were closer than that. After all, I know about the baby daddy despite the NDA,’ he leaned a little closer to you, so he was able to push you gently by your upper arm. That, once again, made you giggle. He was right, you didn’t share so much about your past with just anyone, but still. A part of you couldn’t let go of the idea that he didn’t have any ties to you - not like how your parents had had before they had given up on you. Not like how Inwoo had had before he had had to walk out of your life.

What was the guarantee that someone who wasn’t bound to your family by blood and didn’t share a decade of friendship with you would stick with your duo through thick and thin when none of the aforementioned people had done? People who should have stood by your side in spite of the obstacles life threw your way.

‘I’m sorry, I…’ you closed your eyes and shook your head before you buried your face in your hands. You felt so many things in that moment it couldn’t have been healthy. ‘My thoughts aren’t making too much sense right now. I’m just…’

‘You’re afraid Haeun will lose another father figure if I cross that line and show up at the Career Day in her school,’ he finished the sentence on your behalf when words failed you. Your lips trembled when you sneaked a glance at him.

Jisoo wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at his hands on his lap.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you choked on your apology, feeling those unshed tears - you had tried to hold back so desperately - running down your rose-tinted cheeks.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, but you shook your head. ‘No, it really is. You don’t have to apologise for wanting to protect her from future disappointments. Nor should you feel sorry for shielding yourself from potential heartbreak. I understand,’ he reached out, searching for any kind of rejection in your eyes before he touched your head and ruffled your hair.

The sudden change in your conversation reminded you of the night when you had picked him up at that bar, right after he had been dumped by his then girlfriend. Looking in Jisoo’s eyes, you didn’t doubt, not even for a second, that he truly understood a part of your biggest fears and insecurities.

You might have been two sides of the same coin, but that didn’t take away from how, in your core, you were the same: people with an unhealthy perception of relationships.

Funny how it took you almost seven years and a man who had willingly become your little girl’s friend to realise it for the first time in your life: albeit loving your baby girl with your whole heart, you weren’t exactly fine.

You weren’t okay. You weren’t mentally fine.

You might not have seeked professional help for your mental health issues immediately as it was hard to convince yourself that you had the spare money for such expenses, but you started to pay more attention to your emotional needs after a long and heavy conversation with your best friend while Haeun was at school. It wasn’t easy. Some days you felt extremely selfish for wanting to have any kind of relationship with Jisoo without including your daughter. Some days you got anxious as soon as Haeun found other people to talk to and let the two of you be. Regardless, you didn’t try to shut him out anymore. Instead, you let yourself feel - both the good and the bad.

You believed that it was a baby step in the right direction when after a long afternoon out with your daughter’s closest friends from school, you allowed Haeun-ah to invite her aunt Seola and Jisoo oppa over for a movie night on her birthday. The three of you easily agreed to let the birthday girl choose what you would watch - even if she had the tendency to re-watch the same two movies for months when she liked them - and in exchange, she let you order the food like you would have gone for anything else but her favourite that day. No one was too surprised when you ended up watching Encanto, during which you weren’t supposed to fall asleep - yet you did.

And that was how your innocent movie night turned into an impromptu sleepover without you noticing. Not that the second part should have shocked you that much. You had been so drained from all the excitement of the afternoon that you failed to wake up for Jisoo carrying you from the couch to your own bed despite the struggles he must have gone through. You weren’t overweight per se, but you wouldn’t have called sixty kilograms light, either.

After all, personally, you couldn’t carry six kilos of groceries home from the neighbourhood market without risking muscle pain.

In the morning, you woke up with a start for a loud crash that reminded you of part-time jobs at 3AM and sleep-deprived kitchen shenanigans with a newborn baby. Your heart was beating like crazy, and your body got tense on automatic as you sat up in your bed, self-destructively uncoordinated. It was a miracle you hadn’t fallen off the furniture, considering how close you were to its edge.

‘What th…’ you mumbled under your nose, trying to decipher your surroundings and rubbing the remnants of sleep out of your eyes. Once the fog cleared up in your mind, you were able to recall Mirabel’s first encounter with her uncle, Bruno; you could remember your daughter singing along with her favourite characters; you could feel the phantom weight of your best friend’s head on your shoulder, but none made you wiser about the rest of the night.

Or the noises that were coming from the kitchen.

To get your answers for the latter, you needed to get out of bed.

Suppressing a yawn solely because you were too used to concealing your tiredness at home, you stretched your body and grabbed your cosy, light-brown cardigan from your chair, so you would have felt more comfortable in your skin so early into the day. If you had had the time, you would have preferred to wash your face, brush your hair and teeth, too, before presenting yourself to whoever was making a mess in your kitchen; however, as soon as you recognised your daughter’s panicky voice, you knew you couldn’t let yourself be vain. Haeun-ah clearly needed you, whether you were freshly washed or not.

‘It’s okay, princess. Nothing bad happened, we can clean it up and redo it. We still have so much time,’ Jisoo’s gentle voice reached your ears before you reached the kitchen, your steps slowly coming to a halt before you could have made yourself visible. You didn’t have to be a genius to realise they were making something for breakfast for you, hence your presence would have ruined their surprise.

‘He’s good with her. Aaand, he is handsome,’ your best friend whispered into your ear, her light-hearted giggles managing to relax your tense shoulders despite how eye roll-worthy and unnecessary her observation was. You knew Jisoo was amazing with Haeun; you should also have been blind to not see how appealing he looked.

You let out a resigned sigh.

‘Neither of us is ready for a relationship, and you know it.’ You were pretty sure that you had complained about Jisoo’s unhealthy need to be in a relationship and your own fears of losing him frequently enough during your girly chit-chats for Seola to not forget it. But last night had been the first time she had met him, so you could understand her reaction. If you hadn’t been a single mother with responsibilities, you would have also been tempted to turn a blind eye to your mental health problems in order to pursue a relationship with him.

However, a relationship with you didn’t mean only two people anymore. It would have been the three of you for the rest of your lives, and you had to protect Haeun-ah from developing abandonment issues. You couldn’t jump into a relationship until you weren’t ready.

‘Well, it doesn’t have to happen now. Duh,’ Seola argued, successfully shutting you up before she nudged you with her elbow, encouraging you to eavesdrop on the conversation that was playing out in the kitchen.

And so you leaned your forehead against the wall and listened to Jisoo as he was drying up your daughter’s crocodile tears, promising her to help her re-decorate your pancakes once he cleaned up the broken pieces on the floor. It was lovely: the man’s endless patience with the little girl and seemingly endless energy when it came to matching her vibe.

You got so immersed in their interaction that you had almost forgotten to sneak back into your bedroom where you fake-slept, so Haeun and Seola could wake you up. Luckily, you had a best friend who not only reminded you of their surprise, but also teased the hell out of you because of that wide smile that had formed on your lips without meaning to.

You were happy. You might have been still afraid to admit it out loud, but one look at your face told it all - at least, according to Seola. You could picture a life in which you woke up to these two making a mess in your kitchen with the best intention in their hearts, and not only that. You wanted to live that life so desperately it was unreal.

Except, with enough determination and constant effort on all three of your parts, you might have been able to become a family one day. If Jisoo had still wanted to give it a try then: to family vacations, to movie nights, to you and him, to the long run. You would have said yes.

A thousand times yes.

➼ extra topping

[underscar]

LOVESTRUCK FOOL

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro/Female Reader

Summary: Love-struck is being blinded by love. A state of being so enthralled with someone that you can't stop thinking about them; moreover, to the point that they don't know what to do with themselves. Like a kid after going trick-or-treating. A sugar high and so much candy that they have no idea what to do with themselves. Megumi was a lovestruck fool, and you, Satoru's little sister, had struck him. Once accepting his affection for you, Satoru has appeared to turn into more of a pest, striving to ruin his student's chance for your affection at all costs.

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: Is it obvious that I adore megumi?

this is a old oneshot i dug out from my wattpad drafts so it may be familiar to a small percentage. i rewrote, changed, and added A LOT. cause damn did the writing suck. but i liked the concept and was in the mood for some megumi romance and satoru shenanigans. so enjoy!

WORD COUNT // 2,898 words

Love-struck: being blinded or struck by love.

A state of being so enthralled with someone that you can't stop thinking about them; moreover, to the point that they don't know what to do with themselves. Like a kid after going trick-or-treating. A sugar high and so much candy that they have no idea what to do with themselves. 

Megumi was a lovestruck fool, and you had struck him.

Megumi has known you for as long as he has known Satoru, so since childhood. You were born with the Gojō clan's inherited technique, Limitless, but not with Six Eyes, so you weren't able to efficiently yield it like your older brother. You were constantly under protection because of your relation with Satoru, with all his notoriety, the fact that you are, in general, a Gojō, and your lack of combat capabilities. Every time you go in public, bodyguards must chaperone you. 

Despite not having immense power like your brother, you were still held to a high standard and bore high expectations. Your clan was very strict regarding you since you were the last child left in the household, one of few daughters amongst your siblings, and the youngest child of your parents. They were very strict about who you could be friends with, who you could see, where you went, what you did, and so on. Lucky for Megumi, he fits the criteria for who you openly could be friends with.

It wasn't long ago when it struck hit him. It was sudden and all. Occurred when you had visited Tokyo one weekend to hang out with him for the afternoon, and he recognized he felt something for you as he was escorting you to your chauffeur. 

At first, Megumi mistook this feeling for his fondness for you from childhood. He has clear and warm memories of growing up next to you. You were inseparable then, not that you aren't nowadays, but now you were both just too busy to just stay attached 24/7 since you live such a distance away. With him training as a shaman in Tokyo, and you not, you both attended different schools in different cities. 

Due to the strictness of your clan and the intense security you maintain, your gatherings are limited to twice a month.

He looks forward to your monthly visits.

Because of how periodically you're allowed to see one another, to satisfy his neediness for the next visit, he always walks you out of the school campus to squeeze in a few more minutes with you. Megumi didn't want to admit it, but he was lonely here without you.

This particular day was a rather foggy day. The sky grew darker and dimmer; moreover, the air got damp. The clouds scattered the sky at sporadic gaits and trends. Shrouding the sunlight in a grey filter and conveying a melancholic sense down below. When Megumi was with you, however, nothing could turn him blue, so you both disregarded those caution signs, too invested in each other's company as he walked you toward the campus parking lot, where your guards were expected you.

As projected, the irregular drips of rain swiftly evolved into a shower of rain following you and Megumi's steps. Megumi's involuntary instinct was to sprint to the parking lot for your ride, rushing the usually languid stroll. He didn't want to, he wanted to spend more time together, but it was the prudent course of action. He didn't want you to get a cold.

You however didn't allow him to make this choice.

Before he could move to direct you to a quicker route to the parking lot, you swiftly captured his warm hand in yours, and in turn, chilled him to the bone. You had placed him into an outbreak of remembrance.

"This is perfect Megumi! Let's hide!" you say. You looked into his eyes and there was nothing but bliss in them. As if the child in you was still behind those eyes. "Like we're kids again!" you added, joyfully. You smiled in the murky rain that clouded the area. The sun within this storm you are. 

Megumi would've said normally how foolish and immature that was, but he was voiceless as you lured him away towards your entanglement.

The palm of your hand felt like a glove in his, it fit wonderfully, as it always has. When you were younger, you would always hold his hand. Mostly to drag him along with you to participate in whatever shenanigan you were up to. Just like you were now.  

With his hand in yours, he felt something. There was something different about this moment then what Megumi recollected from his childhood, he wanted to squeeze your hand with his, he wanted to kiss your hand, and caress it. This "something" had felt different from the fondness he had for you from childhood. It felt oddly romantic and intimate at the moment.

Megumi was a lovestruck fool

and had fallen in love with you.

That day you stayed a few hours more with you both hiding from your guards who soon went searching for you. Megumi knew was going to get in a lot of trouble for this once you both got caught, which will happen eventually. Regardless, it was difficult for him to say no to you. He could never refuse more time with you.

You were both apprehended when Satoru was summoned to fetch you up instead, and he found you both in a matter of seconds. By then you were exhausted after running around the campus and had fallen asleep behind some sofas in the student's commons area.

What caught Satoru's attention was seeing your head resting on his student's shoulder, who did not move an itch.

That was the day Megumi conceded he had an affinity for you. It was also the day Satoru found out his student had a crush on his sister, and he became a pestering asshole.

There is a lively atmosphere in the coffee shop and the air is filled with the smell of pastries and beans. The early morning sun filtered through the windows into the shop and illuminated Satoru's ghostly-white mane. 

In the booth, Megumi sat down in front of his teacher, who had suddenly invited him for breakfast. He initially declined but was coaxed after Satoru rambled for what felt like 30 minutes about how lonely he is and how no one cares about him anymore. Or something along those lines. Megumi simply accepted with a groan to keep the conversation short.

Satoru rested his arms on the wooden tabletop. His palms were entwined. "Megumi," he said, bringing his students' focus away from the coffee he was drinking. "Are you excited to see my sister this weekend?" he asked, before continuing to speak before he could respond. "—you know, every time I visit her, she only asks about you."

Megumi's pine eyes narrowly broaden. Did you really? He restrained himself from moving his palm to cover his face. Well of course you did, your friends, he reasoned. Making his emotions too visible would only catch Satoru's attention if his behavior hasn't already. The man in front of him now having a devoid smile on his face.

He had to behave as if what Satoru was saying didn't matter, or Satoru would never live it down. Rather, he just gapes outside the window next to him, his face flushing.

Satoru continued when he didn't get a response from Megumi. "My baby sister doesn't love me anymore, it's depressing. She doesn't even give me a good morning text anymore!" he whined. He shakes his head in displeasure, flicking his wrist. "It's Megumi this, Megumi that. It's like she's been possessed to only speak of you, Megumi!"

Megumi twitched at the sound of his name being repeated. "So?" Megumi forced out. Satoru was annoying but he wasn't annoying for no reason. He just wanted Satoru to stop talking around the bush, and ultimately admit his central reason for bringing him here this morning.

Satoru fell back into his seat. "You're the same Megumi!" he wept. "You're always asking about her too! No one cares for me anymore!”

Megumi frowned at him as he dropped his head onto the table. Then, with his head on the table, Satoru pretended to weep into his folded arms. The other patrons in the coffee shop are now fixated on the two of them because of this. 

Megumi sighs and sips his coffee slowly.

Satoru suddenly stops sobbing and gives his student a smirk while looking up. Megumi only had a hunch as to what this meant; he knew something he shouldn't.

Satoru crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. He then begins by sipping from his frappuccino. "You know Megumi, you've been getting rather close to my sister. As if...you're attracted to her almost,” he surmised.

A look of seriousness suddenly appeared on Satoru's face, but the whipped cream on his lip almost made it hard for Megumi to take him earnestly.

Megumi places his mug on the table and listened.

Satoru kept talking. "I am aware of your little crush on my baby sister. So, tell me, Megumi, do you think you're worthy of being with my sister?" he inquired outright. 

Before Megumi had the chance to consider responding, Satoru cut him off. "—I want you to think about that Megumi!" he barks. He pointed a finger at the teen. "Think of it as an assignment from your Sensei."

Megumi simply agrees. Satoru appeared to be babbling nonsense to anyone else, but in fact, he just lightly threatened the boy. But he wouldn't let Satoru stand in the way of him because he was lovestruck by you. This was the start of Satoru's "assignment" and the first time he would use those exact three phrases repeatedly in the future.

Five hours. You're five hours late. 

In spite of the fact that today was the day for you and Megumi's monthly hangout, you were nowhere to be seen It wasn't completely uncommon for you to be late, your family put a lot of duties on you, yet you've never been one to be late. Additionally, you would've at least texted him. He's had his phone clutched to his palm for the last five hours waiting for that said text. 

This wasn't like you at all. Megumi feared something might have occurred to you at home. So, grudgingly, he leaves his dorms to find your pain-in-the-ass brother to question him on your lateness. It had been a few weeks since his meeting with Satoru at the coffee shop and nothing has really occurred since. Just a little bit of teasing from him in class but other than that he hasn't really done anything. 

It didn't take Megumi long to find Satoru in the commons area. He was sitting alone with a rounded cake on the table in front of him, a napkin tucked into his shirt.

Megumi entered the room and made his presence known to the man. "Gojō-sensei, _____ hasn't come today and she hasn't texted me back. Do you know why?" he asked, keeping a distance away.

Satoru nodded. "Ah, right, I forgot to tell you. She broke her phone or something, so she's going to get a new number," he replied, biting right into the rounded cake without bothering to cut it into pieces.

Megumi supposes that makes sense, but that doesn't explain why you didn't show up today. He's too embarrassed to say that he was looking forward to seeing you. But screw it, as soon as he learns how you're doing, he'll put up with it and listen to Satoru's teasing.

"…But why didn't she show up? She was supposed to visit.”

Satoru wipes his face with a napkin before replying. "Actually, I took her out today. You know, for some brother and sister time," he responds nonchalantly, purposely not looking Megumi in the eyes.

Why in the world would Satoru do that? He chose to take you out knowing that this was the only opportunity you had to be with each other. Megumi won't deny it; he was furious. Satoru had the freedom to visit you whenever he pleased, and on the one occasion he did, he chose to take you out on your and Megumi's day. He shoots Satoru a deadly-looking stare, but Satoru fails to react, leaving Megumi with a splitting headache. 

He sighs and doesn't even attempt to continue the conversation with the man before turning around and heading back to his dorm.

Satoru doesn't raise his head until Megumi is no longer in view. When he hears a door slam off in the distance, a grin spreads across his face and he starts chuckling to himself. 

Satoru thought, leaning his face against his palm, "So Megumi likes you more than I thought." He accesses Megumi's contact on his phone after taking it out. He explains in the message how he persuaded his parents to give you two another day to meet tomorrow with extra time with himself as your escort.

Some people might believe Satoru was being overbearing but he merely wanted to witness Megumi's feelings for you at all times. To poke fun at his developing feelings for you and the frustrating moments when he was unable to see you. Satoru pondered seeing Megumi concerned for your wellbeing.

On the other side of the coin, after reading Satoru's text message, Megumi couldn't help but groan into his pillow. He got played. What was that blindfolded idiot of a teacher doing? Megumi had to know; he isn't sure if he can take the uncertainty any longer. It's already hard as it is to get the confidence to confess to you, but If Satoru keeps being a pestering asshole, he can't attempt to pursue a relationship with you.

The following day, you and Megumi hung out and actually left his campus to engage in some enjoyable activities, just as Satoru had promised. Satoru had come to watch over you two; yet, stayed in the background behind you both, leaving you with some space. It was an enjoyable evening which only led to Megumi feeling more conflicted with his feelings for you, especially with your brother being near.

Satoru sent you off to your chauffeurs with joy at the conclusion of the evening, and you returned home. He and Megumi then returned to the school grounds in silence after watching you drive away into the distance. 

With this silence, Megumi spoke up.

"We need to talk, Gojō-sensei."

Satoru stopped, slightly ahead of Megumi. "I'm assuming this talk is about my baby sister, " he guesses. "I'm right, huh?" 

"I wanted to confront you. In private," Megumi explained. 

Satoru smiles enormously. "Oh really? Are you going to try to kill me for my sister?" he taunts.

"Be serious Gojō," he sighs. He hadn't wanted to say these things in front of you, for obvious reasons; nevertheless, it had to have been expressed. "Why are you so against me…liking ______?" he asked.

The smile left Satoru's face and he turned away. "I'm not."

Why did he interrupt your brief time together before persuading your parents to extend it? Why inform him about how much you like him and then threaten him about liking you in return? He doesn't understand what Satoru's thinking.

Megumi narrows his eyes. "Do you want me to date ______ or not?"

"Uhhhh," Satoru groaned. "I don't know. I haven't decided yet." He shook his head. "No, that's a lie. it's really just that...she's weak, and you'll have to protect her. And I only wonder if you're strong enough to do so."

You are cherished by Satoru. You are the sole member of his family where his love for you is thoroughly pure and not tainted. He doesn't mean to insult you when he calls you weak, but it's accurate nonetheless.

You can't defend yourself against curses, and Satoru would feel more at ease if he knew for sure that Megumi could protect you when he wasn't near.

"Are you strong enough to protect my beloved sister Megumi?"

How does he even answer that question? Megumi desires to say yes because he would do anything for you in his heart. In contrast, he is uncertain in his mind. You attract the attention of special grades, the likes of assassins, and have bounties on your head. You worry about your life and the lives of your family members every day. Is he truly powerful enough to keep you safe from the danger that you face? 

"I think I love her, Satoru," he admits. The words were almost painful to say to Satoru. "And I'll protect her to the best of my ability and more. Even if I have to die trying."

Megumi despised how cliché his confession sounded, but he really did mean it. The truth is often sappy. While he cannot promise to protect you with certainty, he can promise to make every effort.

Satoru didn't tease his words, which caught Megumi off guard. He firmly asserts, placing his hand on his student's shoulder while gazing into his azure eyes, "She'd cry if something happened to you,” he said.

He continues, the corner of his lip lifting, "You'll have to get strong enough so that you don't die trying to save her.”

"So think about that Megumi~"

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[bullet-prooflove]

Ophelia!Series - Part Three: Ohana - Charlie 1 x Reader (feat: Joe Milius)

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond 

Noah’s gotten big since Charlie last saw him, he’s gone from an infant to a child with a bright and bubbly personality. He’s fourteen months old, brimming with conversation. He babbles to Charlie, his tiny hands grasping Charlie’s fingers as he tries to take one step and then another.

“He’ll be walking soon.” Charlie says to Joe, who stands before the dining table surveying the documents in front of him, his dark eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “I bet he’s already getting himself into all kinds of mischief.”

“You have no idea.” Joe murmurs, as he uses his fingertip to trail down the paperwork he’s reading.

The two of them have become friends in the time they’ve known each other. In the past Joe’s used him for covert ops, he was the preferred mercenary of choice. There had been a brief blip in that friendship before Noah was born. Charlie and Mia, Joe’s partner used to have a thing. Charlie had wanted it to develop into more, but Mia had made it clear that she was in love with Joe. She was six months pregnant at the time with Noah. Charlie had retreated, licked his wounds, moved on.

The truth was as much as he loved Mia at the time, what he craved was the stability that came with her. She was a woman who knew exactly who she was, she was solid, secure, everything that Charlie wanted. Him and Joe had talked about it one night after the baby was born, he’d been back in Hawaii working something for Jane when the two of them had sat down at a bar and shared a beer.

“I loved her, but I wasn’t in love with her, she represented everything I wanted but I…”  He’d trailed off, running his hand through his hair because it’s taken him weeks to sort through this mess in his head, to be honest with himself and admit what he had really wanted was a home, a family. “I’m sorry about that night, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He means the night he’d turned up at Mia’s place when she was six months pregnant and told her that Joe wasn’t the right man for her, that he was.

“You were lonely.” Joe tells him, shrugging his shoulders. “Going back to the only connection you had at the time and that was Mia, she’s been the only constant thing in your life for years.”

Joe’s right, he’d been coming off a mission that had ended with an asset being killed. He was filled with numbness and self-loathing. He’d been looking to blow off a little steam that night, to actually feel something other than that crippling emptiness. He’d gone to Mia because she always made him feel wanted, cared for. It was in her nature. He’d got the shock of his life when he’s discovered she was six months pregnant and, in that moment, he had wished that it was his because he wanted someone to come home to, a wife, a kid, a family. He wanted someone to miss him.

“I know what it’s like to be untethered.” Joe had said, his thumb scraping off the label of the beer bottle. “Before I met Mia, the navy was the only thing that anchored me and even then… it didn’t.”

He’d looked to Charlie in that moment, and he could see the honesty of it. They’d done some horrible shit in the name of their country, it messed you up inside, eroded your soul. Joe got that; he saw that reflected in Charlie; another man would see the guy who’d try to steal his girl. Joe saw the reality of it, a man who was trying to find a connection, to hold onto the only one he had.

“I’m here too Charlie.” Joe had told him quietly. “Whatever you need, you’ve got me in your corner.”

They’d shifted to other topics after that. Joe becoming a new father, Noah growing up so quickly if you blinked, you’d miss it. Hearing these stories, being a part of someone else’s life, it made him feel grounded, like he was a part of something outside of the work he did.

After that whenever he needed to feel anchored, he came back to Hawaii, to the beach house he’d rented near the ocean. The sound of the waves sooth him when he wakes up in the middle of the night, with his heart pounding in his chest. Joe, Mia, little Noah, they became his ohana, the people he turned to when he was at his most vulnerable.

It was their house Charlie had turned up at the night you had stabbed him. Joe had found him sitting on the porch, using his tuxedo jacket to stifle the wound. Mia and Noah were off island visiting her parents up in Maine.

“Bad night?” Joe had asked as Charlie had perched upon one of the stools at the breakfast island.

He was withdrawing the first aid kit from underneath the sink when Charlie says.

“Ophelia.”

He pauses momentarily, his dark eyebrows furrowing into a frown.

“And how was that?” He’d asked placing the medi-kit down on the island and flicking it open. “Seeing her again.”

Charlie says nothing as he strips off the shirt he’s wearing, dropping it onto the tiled floor because he doesn’t want his blood to stain the wood on the surface of the island. It’s messy and complicated, the way he feels for you. Despite what you did to him, those feelings they’ve never really gone away. They sit there underneath his skin, clawing at his nerve endings until in the dead of night he recalls that pretty smile of yours, the way it looked with the sunlight streaming through the window as he tucked your hair back behind your ear.

“You’re still in love with her.” Joe states, ignoring Charlie’s hiss of pain as he cleans the wound with the sterilised pads and rubbing alcohol.  

“It’s fucked up.” Charlie says quietly as Joe pinches the flesh together and hooks the needle through his flesh. Charlie’s jaw clenches, his gaze coming to fixate on the images on the fridge as he tries to ignore the sharp prick and the pulling of his skin.

“You were building a future with her.” Joe reminds him. “You were going to retire, have a life together.”

A ranch in Montana, a wedding, a horse, a dog, a baby.

He’s wanted all of that with you.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Charlie says as Joe ties off the thread before snipping it. “She’s long gone.”

It’s Noah’s laugh that brings Charlie back to the present, that shrill burst of joy and it unlocks some of the tension that resides in Charlie’s chest as he thinks about you.

“You’re sure about going after her?” Joe says, his voice tight as he raises his head to meet Charlie’s gaze.

“Yea.” Charlie says, scooping up Noah into his arms as he raises to his feet and approaches the table. The child lets out a howl of delight at the sudden motion, his tiny hand grasping the fabric of Charlie’s Hawaiian shirt tightly as he cradles him to his chest.

“I confirmed it whilst you were on the way over here that she’s been taken to Mexico.” Joe informs Charlie, pushing a surveillance picture across the kitchen table towards him.

It’s an image of you with your hands bound behind your back, barely conscious as you’re dragged by two men across the tarmac from a Cessna airplane. You’ve been beaten, he can see the bruising on your face, the blood on your clothes. Eddie was right, you’d fought hard because you know how this ends, how it ended last time.

“The moment they stepped into Mexico; she was gone. The government have been backing the Rodrigo Cartel for a long time, they don’t want to do anything to upset the apple cart, so they stopped looking.”

His heart sinks because he knows exactly what Joe is saying and it infuriates him. You’re a US operative, you work for the same government that he does, you’ve dedicated years of your life to them, and they won’t lift a finger to help you.

“Flores Rodrigo is a very clever man, none of this can be traced back to him, he needs complete deniability if he’s to retain his deal with the government and that’s what he has. The thing I don’t understand is why, why come after her in the first place?” Joe says as he looks down at the intel spread out across the table.

Charlie knows why. As soon as he’d heard Flores’s name, it had sent a siren off in his brain because that man… He’d made it his mission to destroy you.

“She killed his son.” Charlie says quietly as he sways slowly from side to side, the baby on his hip. “Before she became an operative, she worked undercover with the DEA looking into a fentanyl ring. It turned out his son Santigo Rodrigo was trying to branch out, carve a piece of the empire for himself. It went bad, really bad, she almost didn’t make it out.”

Charlie thinks about the bullet wounds above your left breast, the ones he’d traced over with eager fingertips in the dead of night, his lips chasing over them before he delved lower.

Noah starts to get antsy in Charlie’s arms, twisting and shifting, tears rolling down his cheeks as he starts to whimper. Joe glances at the watch on his wrist before he sighs and takes the baby from Charlie’s arms.

“It’s bedtime.” Joe tells Charlie, his lips brushing over Noah’s dark hair as he clasps him close. “Look if you want to do this, I’ll help you the best I can but truthfully my hands are tied. I can get you transport there and back but beyond that…”

Charlie’s gaze lowers to the picture of you in Mexico, bound, beaten, bloody. The expression on your face, it’s resignation. You know you’re going to die; you know it’s going to be horrible; the worst part is that you accept it. That you know it’s coming, that’s the real torture he thinks.

“I’m going after her, Joe.” He tells the other man. “There ain’t a force on earth that can stop me.”

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[pacificheights]

My Lizard Loves You and So Must I

Posted on AO3

No warnings apply.

----

“Just because that pompous asshole is older than time itself and has worked at this university since before the dinosaurs went extinct, doesn’t mean that he knows everything there is to know about philosophy. I mean, isn’t it supposed to be some sort of opinionated subject? Isn’t the point of philosophy to think?” You grumbled under your breath.

“Well-”

“It was a rhetorical question, Aemond; I don’t need an actual fucking answer!” “No, but I like to poke at you when you’re already pissed off,” he smirked, punctuating his point with a literal poke to your upper arm.

Aemond - a weird guy with an even weirder name - sat next to you in your philosophy 110 class. You had come in a bit late on the first day, and, apparently, nobody wanted to sit next to the eye-patch kid. So, you had taken your seat next to him, and now, nearing the end of the semester, you still hadn’t changed it. 

“You’re a dick,” You murmured, poking him back. “I need coffee. Do you want coffee?” 

The two of you were already heading in the direction of the overpriced student-run coffee shop on the far corner of campus. 

“You know that you shouldn't drink so much caffeine. It makes you shake like an anxious chihuahua,” He said. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder - he wore it only on one side, like a cool and mysterious guy, or something. 

Your understanding of Aemond was limited, if you were being completely honest. You had known the guy for three months, and, in that time, you had figured out that he was, one, incredibly clever, two, an asshole, and three, that he had a large iguana named Vhagar. She was like fifteen years old and also an asshole, just like her owner. She adored him, but had tail whipped at you when you tried to enter his apartment. 

“Yes, well… I don’t have a rebuttal for that, but I do want my six dollar pumpkin-spice coffee.”

“As you wish, princess,” Aemond replied. You moved closer to him, so that your arms were touching as you walked. 

The two of you had some little flirtatious game going on, it seemed. He was absolutely atrocious to everyone else the two of you had come across - cold, standoffish, a bit psychotic, even - but with you, he was so soft, so warm. 

You didn’t know what made him like that - maybe it had something to do with his eyepatch. You hadn’t asked for the story behind it, and he hadn’t given it to you. But, beneath all of it, you could tell that there was some desire to be loved. Maybe he had mommy issues. You knew that his family was wealthy - they paid for an off-campus apartment for him and his siblings - so maybe he had been raised by nannies and had some mommy issues. 

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the closeness of each other's company as you made your way to the coffee shop. 

“Are you getting anything?” You asked him upon seeing the door. 

“You know I don’t put that sort of trash into my body,” He opened the door for you as he said it. What a gentleman! 

You walked to the back of the line, him joining by your side. You rocked back and forth between your heels and the balls of your feet as you looked up at the stereotypical hipster chalkboard menu, even though you knew what you wanted. 

You ordered your overpriced latte when it was your turn, and a pastry, because everyone loves pastries, and went to go claim a table by the window with Aemond. The leaves were changing colors as fall grabbed hold - you were entranced. It was you first year on campus, and Harvard was absolutely stunning in the fall. 

“Would you like some of my croissant?” You asked him once the two of you were sat. You tore a piece off, crumbs flaking off, and held it out for him to take. 

“(Y/N),” He groaned, shaking his head, “do you know how much butter is in that? Your arteries hate you.” 

“Your arteries hate you,” You retorted, sticking your tongue out like a child. You put the piece of the croissant that was meant for him in your mouth. “Can I come play with Vhagar today? I want to try and feed her.” 

“She's never going to like you,” Aemond took his phone out of his pocket - his lockscreen was his beloved iguana. He unlocked it and began to scroll through his camera roll until he found what he was looking for, and then slid the phone across the table to you.

It was a photo of an older, physical photo. You looked closely at the screen to see Vhagar as a baby. Well, baby Aemond and baby Vhagar - he could be no more than ten in that photo, and, wow, he had two eyes! He was holding her in his lap, looking down at her adoringly. 

“She was so tiny!” You exclaimed, thinking it best not to mention his eye. 

“That was the first day I got her,” He responded fondly. Nobody could deny how much he loved his lizard. 

You slid his phone back across the table to him, a smile playing across your lips. Your name was called, and you went to get your latte. He followed. 

“So… I can come over, then?” You asked. 

He shrugged and nodded, “If you'd like. I think I have some strawberries in the fridge - she likes those.” 

The two of you headed out of the coffee shop and started in the direction of his house. He lived a little ways off campus - a walkable distance - in a beautiful, four bedroom house. You knew that his parents paid for it. His two older siblings lived there, as well, and Vhagar had her own special room. 

The first time you had gone over to his place, it had been out of pure necessity. A bird had gracefully shit on your head while you and Aemond were coming out of class. Your friendship with him was just beginning, at that time, and he was still incredibly distant and cold to you. But, after laughing at your misery and misfortune, he had offered to come and let you shower off your shame so you didn't have to wait and be seen in the student dorm showers. 

That was when you had first encountered Vhagar. She hated you then, and she hated you now. 

The two of you idly chatted - well, you chatted and he listened - as you made your way to his house. He unlocked it when you got there and held open the door for you. You walked in and immediately took your shoes off, knowing it was one of their house rules. 

Aemond took off his shoes and set his bag down before taking your hand and dragging you over to the fridge. He pulled out the carton of strawberries and handed you three of them. 

“I'm not sure if she'll take them from you,” he cautioned. “You should use the tongs to feed her, otherwise she might bite.” 

You followed him into the lizard room. It was also so hot and humid in there, thanks to all of the special lights and the humidifier. He sat on the floor, and she immediately came running over to him. You stood in the doorframe, watching the interaction. 

“Come.” It sounded like a demand. You carefully and slowly walked towards them, sitting down next to him. Vhagar immediately whipped her tail against your leg. 

“Vhagar,” he scolded, lightly tapping her on the nose. “Here, give me a berry.” He held out his hand and you placed a strawberry in it. 

Aemond kissed the top of his lizards head before holding out the strawberry for her. She ate it happily. “You try,” he encouraged. 

So, you did. You scooted closer to him, berry in hand. 

“She can sense fear,” he teased with a smirk. He took your hand and placed it closer to her mouth, and then, just like magic, she took the berry! “See? Nothing to be afraid of, she's a good girl.” 

“She's an ass, just like her owner,” you shot back at him. 

“Hey. Don't insult my lizard, she has feelings. She's a very intelligent creature.” Aemond’s fingers found their way under her scaly chin, scratching the loose skin under it. You just smiled; he was so gentle with her, it was such a stark contrast to how he treated everyone else. 

“Can I feed her the last berry?” You asked. He nodded in reply, and you reached your hand out, without him holding it this time. The cold blooded beast hesitated for a moment before deciding that, ultimately, her hatred for you was less intense than her desire for the strawberry, and she took the berry from your hand. 

You grinned, ear to ear. This was the first time that Vhagar had allowed you so close to her. 

“She's deemed you worthy,” Aemond declared, a bit of warmth in his voice. Vhagar, realizing she wasn't getting more food, crawled out of his lap and back to her basking platform. 

He stood up, offering you a hand. You took his hand and he gently guided you up. 

“She hates everyone, but… she let you feed her,” He beamed, staring into your eyes. 

You nodded, “Yes,” you responded smugly, “I must be special.” 

“I believe so,” he led you out of the room and closed the door behind you. “That was all I needed to be sure.” He murmured softly. He still hadn't let go of your hand. 

“Aemond…?” You had never seen him this calm, never heard him speak so gently. 

Before you knew it, his arms were around your waist, and his lips on yours. They were soft. His scent hit you like a freightliner - some sort of cologne and Old Spice. Why had you never noticed before? 

You sank into his touch, melting into the kiss. His tongue flickered against your lower lip, and you parted your mouth to allow him access. He wasted no time sliding his tongue in, against your top teeth, your cheek. 

As suddenly as it began, it ended. 

You both stood there, staring at each other. Had that really just happened? 

Wait…

“Were you waiting on approval from your fucking lizard to do that?!” 

“Obviously.”

[cherrycola27]

To Hec and Back

Pairing: Hangman x Reader (Call Sign Hecate)

Warnings: Language, childhood trauma, physical violence.

Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Part 7

"What if they don't like me when they meet me in person, Jake?" You asked him as he drove you from the airport to his family ranch. It had been a month since Jake had proposed to you, and you both had time off to finally come to Texas and meet his family in person.

"My parents already love you. My younger sister is going to love you too." He assures you as he pats your thigh.

"What about your older sister and her husband?" You ask him.

Jake sighs. "Bryan is a great guy. How he puts up with Savannah, I will never know. I can't wait for you to meet their kids, though. Carter and Sloan are the coolest." Jake smiles. "I'm sure I will get along great with your niece and nephew." You smile back at him.

"Our niece and nephew Hec." He corrects you while tracing his thumb over your engagement ring.

Mr. and Mrs. Seresin or Elaine and JT, as they have insisted you call them, hug both of you as you come in. Their house is spectacular. It's bigger than one you could have ever dreamed of. You knew Jake came from money, but it wasn't something that he openly advertised.

The afternoon is spent with his mom and his younger sister Charlotte, or Charli, talking your ears off. You didn't mind it, though. You didn't have this growing up, and it was nice.

Everyone seemed to be in a good mood until Savannah came. Her husband Bryan greeted you warmly but was sure he had met you before. You told him you must have one of those faces.

Carter, Jake's five year old nephew and Sloan, his three year old niece, were so happy to see their uncle again.

"Carter, Sloan, I want you to meet someone. This Y/N, she flys big planes like Uncle Jake, and I'm going to marry her." He tells them. Sloan climbs up to you, with wide eyes. "You fwy the big pwanes?"She asks, you. "I sure do." You smile at her.

"Do you fly as good as Uncle Jake?" Carter asks, climbing up on your lap beside his sister.

"Better." You say causing everyone to laugh.

"So if you are going to marry Uncle Jake, does that make you Aunt Y/N? Like Aunt Charli?" Carter asks. He's pretty smart to be so young. "I guess it does." You tell him. Savannah shoots you a dirty look.

"Hi Aunty Y/N," Sloan squeals. "She isn't your aunt yet." Savannah snaps, grabbing her.

"Wow, Sav, way to kill the mood." Charli scoffs.

"Well, I'm just saying. You've been dating her what? Six months JJ, and now you're engaged? Why the rush? Did you get her pregnant?" Savannah asks with ice in her voice.

"Sav!" Charli and Elaine scold her had the same time.

"No, Savannah, she isn't pregnant. We love each other and aren't afraid to go after what we want." Jake defends you as you press closer to his side.

"And what kind of call sign is Hecate? Isn't she like a witch or something?" Savannah continues to berate you.

"Actually, in Greek mythology, she's known as a touch barer, a bringer of light in darkness." You try to tell her. You wish you could change her mind, but you can already tell that Savannah had made up her mind about you.

"Well I for one, think it's lovely, different, inspiring." Elaine states.

"Now, Hecate, darling, I'm not sure what you and JJ have planned for the wedding, bur you're more than welcome to get married here on the ranch, or we can fly out to San Diego if that's what you prefer." Elaine smiles at you.

"Thank you, we haven't talked about it much." You tell her.

"Well, I would love it if I could have your mother's phone number so I could talk to her about some details!" Elaine says.

Your shoulders drop. Jake feels you stiffen beside him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that—that one be possible." You swallow thickly.

"Oh, darling, has she passed?" Elaine softens.

"No ma'am. I—I don't know who she is. I grew up in the system. Spent my whole life being bounced around between foster care and group homes. That's why I joined the Navy. I wanted some stability." You hang your head at the confession.

Jake rubs soothing circles on your back. He knows how hard it is for you to talk about your childhood.

"Well," Elaine says, taking your hand. "You might not have had a family then, but you have one now."

"Absolutely, honey." JT, Jake's father, agrees.

"Wow! Way to go JJ, you picked a charity case for a bride!" Savannah scoffs. "How do you know she isn't with you for your money."

"I—I'm not, I would never—" You try to defend yourself. Jake stands up and turns to face her, but before he can open his mouth, Charli stands up in front of her sister.

"Savannah, if you could just not be a a bitch for like five minutes that would be great. I get that you think you're better than everyone else and that the five years before Jake was born were the best years of your life, but damn! Give the girl a break. Not everyone grew up as fortunate as we were!" Charli tells her.

"Your sister is exactly right, Savannah. You should be happy for your brother." Their father states

"Exactly. You should be happy he has found a wonderful woman." Their mom finishes.

"I'm just a concerned big sister watching out for her baby brother. Don't you get that JJ?" Savannah whines.

"I'm thirty years old, I don't need you to baby me." Jake deadpans.

"All I'm saying is before you walk down the aisle, make sure she signs a pre-nup." Savannah shoots back.

"Just like how you made Bryan?" Jake grits.

"Bryan didn't have to sign one because he's with me for love." Savannah tells him.

"He definitely isn't with you for your personality." Charli snickers.

"Bryan, it's late. We need to get home and put the kids to bed." Savannah huffs before turning on her heel to leave. Bryan tells everyone good night and ushers his children to leave.

"Bye Nana, bye PopPop, bye Aunt Charli, bye Uncle Jake, bye Aunt Hecate!" Carter calls before leaving.

When you hear the door shut, you take a deep breath.

"Don't listen to Savannah, she'll come around. She's always been the difficult one." JT tells you.

"What dad is trying to say is, Savannah is a bitch." Charli laughs.

"Charlotte Grace!" Her mother scolds. "It's true, mom, and you know it." Jake laughs.

"Well, it's getting late, and I'm sure the two of you want to rest after traveling today. We've converted your old room into a guest room JJ, dear. There should be towels and everything you need up there." Elaine informs you.

"Thanks, Mom. Goodnight." Jake tells them as he leads to two of you upstairs.

"Goodnight, everyone!" You call down the stairs.

Once the two of you are inside the safety of the guest room, you sigh. "That could have gone better." You tell Jake.

"Hec, baby, Mom, Dad, Charli, and the kids love you. That's all I care about. Savannah has a stick up her ass. I promise she will be better at brunch on Sunday because our grandmother will be there. Savannah has always been a better person around her." Jake says as he beings to undress.

"Care to join me in the shower?" He wags his eyebrows at you.

"Just a shower, we aren't doing any funny business under your parents' roof." You tell him.

"Might have to sneak you out to the barn or the back of the truck I rented. Can't go two weeks without having my best girl." Jake whispers against your ear before whisking you into the bathroom.

Saturday is spent shopping and getting mani-pedis with Elaine and Charli, Jake, and his father spend the day taking care of a few things on the ranch. You all meet up for dinner and you finally start to feel like one of them.

You're hopeful for Sunday.

You made sure to put on the new dress Elaine and Charli helped you pick out yesterday. You've done simple hair and makeup and have a bright smile on your face.

Jake's grandmother Dorothea, or Grammy Seresin, as she insisted, is one of the sweetest women you have ever met. She fawns over your engagement ring as she tells you about the ring that the smaller diamonds in it came from. She pinches Jake's cheeks and tells him what a good job he has done.

Grammy Seresin doesn't leave your side, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Savannah. She's clenching her mimosa glass so hard that it could shatter.

Everyone is talking about wedding plans and brunch is going well until Savannah speaks.

"You know JJ, speaking of wedding plans, you won't have to hire any entertainment for your bachelor party." She beings.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake questions her. There's no way Savannah could know... is there? He thinks.

"I mean, why would you pay for it when apparently, you're already getting it for free." Savannah continues. She smirks, looking from Jake to you. Your heart drops.

"Savannah, don't." Jake warns her.

"Don't what, JJ? Tell everyone that you're marrying a stripper?" She says, with venom in her voice.

"Savannah Marie!" Elaine shouts, "How dare you say something like that about her!"

You shrink into your seat. You can feel the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

"I'm only telling the truth, Mother." Savannah drawls out. "Remember how Bryan said that she looked familiar? It's because she was an 'entertainer' at his bachelor party!" Savannah shouts.

"Jake, is this— is this true?" Elaine asks, looking from you to him.

"Yes, Ma'am." You choke out. "Like I told you, I grew up in the system. When I first joined the Navy, I needed a way to support myself. Dancing helped me when no one else would. Later, I did it because I enjoyed it. I stopped after Jake and I became serious." You confess with tears streaming down your cheeks.

Everyone is silent for a moment before Savannah starts laughing.

"Wow! JJ! You sure know how to pick them. You're marrying a whore! You—" Savannah doesn't get to say anything else because Charli jumps up from her chair and slaps her across the face.

Shouting breaks out among the family. You can hear Jake defending you.

It's all too much. Everyone is too busy to notice you slip out of the dining room and up the stairs.

You quickly grab your things and the keys to Jake's rental. You slink into the garage, unnoticed. Everyone is still too busy fighting. You start up the truck and head down the drive.

You aren't sure where you are going, but you can't stay here.

You were a fool to think that this would work, that you could fit in with these people.

It takes everyone a full thirty minutes to calm down. Savannah had been kicked out of the house. Jake's parents and grandmother assure him that they fully support his decision to marry you because they love you and how happy you make him.

Jake is the first to notice you aren't in the dining room anymore.

He searches the first floor and can't find you. Soon, he, Elaine, and Charli are checking the house for you. JT goes to search the patio and backyard. You're nowhere to be found.

Jake runs up to the guest room. Your things are gone.

He comes back downstairs to the living room with tears in his eyes.

He has something in his hand. He sits down on the couch and places it on the coffee table. The only thing you left behind:

Your engagement ring.

Eeeekkk, I hope yall enjoyed this chapter and the drama! I lured you back in with the spice, just to paralyze you once again!

Tag List: @pisupsala @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @youlightmeupfinn @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @caitsymichelle13 @lillyrosenight @callsign-hummingbird @inky-sun @writeroutoftime @afterglowsb-tch13 @heyoimjordy @phoenixssugarbaby @hypatia93 @bradshawseresinbabe @je-suis-prest-rachel @teacupsandtopgun @boringusername3 @starlightstories @daggerspare-standingby @utterlyhopeful-fics @talkfastromance4 @fighterpilothoe @t-nd-rfoot @phoenix1388 @abaker74 @peppizzathief @gigisimsonmars @emorychase @wannabeschyulersister @greatszu @shawnsblue @angelbabyange @sadpetalsstuff @softmullet @cowboybarbie @shewritesfiction13 @sweetlittlegingy @rogersbarnesxx

[ask-agent-rapzutin-vodello]

Raz and Lili's great Valentine escape

Lili was not a vain person. She didn’t care about the latest trends in fashion or music. Her clothes were mostly bought in thrift stores, she styled he hair in whatever she felt like wearing it and some of her favorite genres of music were decades old.

Nope, she certainly wasn’t a vain person.

That’s what she kept telling herself as she tore the umpteenth shirt out her closet to see if it fit with her brand new leather vest, after which she grabbed her hairspray and applied it in the same way the instructional video was telling her.

Lili took a deep breath, trying to relax her nerves. Why was she nervous. It was just Razputin Aquato. The same Raz she’s known since they were 10 years old. They’ve been friends for 6 years now …

…and for the last 6 months of those 6 years, they’ve been dating.

…and it was their first real Valentine’s together. And they’d go out together. A real date, and not just an evening of hanging out, making fun of those silly, romantic comedies the Aquato parents would watch.

Finally happy with the way her outfit and her hair looked, she walked over to the window, leaning down on the window sill to gaze at the house located just opposite hers. She smiled as she thought back on the day the Aquato family moved in, almost 6 years ago now. At first, she didn’t put too thought into them, or the boy she didn’t know  would become her best friend.

Back then, to her, Raz was just some kid from school who just happened to live in the same street at her and had this strange attachment with a pair of goggles he always had with him. It wasn’t until that same summer that things changed, when she ended up sitting next to him, going to Whispering Rock Summer Camp. In those few hours on that rickety hot bus, they discovered they had a lot in common. A similar taste in music, movies and cartoons and a shared love for the fictional Psychonauts franchise. Two weeks later and they had become an inseparable duo.

For six years, they’d do everything together. They’d walk to school together, do homework together, visit each other’s houses, have Christmases together with both their families, being there for each other during happy and sometimes sad times. .And somewhere along the way, their feelings for each other changed.

Lili grinned at the moment they both realized it. It was Mirtala, Razputin’s little sister of all people, who – as she put it – was fed up ‘looking at those two pinning for each other without realizing about the other.’. And thus, a first date happened, and the first kiss on the same day. And now, here they were.

A car horn jolted her from her thoughts.

“Looks like Norma is here to pick up Frazie.” Lili said to herself as she watched Norma’s (ugly) citrine colored car pull op the Aquato driveway. She grinned as said driver stepped out. “Wow, Norma’s looking good in that suit. Frazie’s gonna impressed.”

She watched as Norma walked over to the front door and raised her hand to ring the doorbell. She didn’t even have the time to stretch out a finger, as the door suddenly flew open and the eldest Aquato daughter Frazie jumped out to embrace her girlfriend, peppering the latter with kisses. Lili rested her chin on her folded arms, sighing warmly at the display.

She had to admit, it was sometimes weird seeing them together, considering they couldn’t stand each other for the longest time at first, if she had to believe Razputin. Well, she did believe him, she had seen what happened if you put those two in the same room together back then. They always ended up bickering and arguing about …stupid things.

And then, a few years ago, their entire relationship flipped around suddenly. She had no idea what really changed between them. According to Raz, they were forced to do a group project together, so Norma had reluctantly  come over to the Aquato house. Raz had no recollection what the topic was about, but he remembered Frazie mentioning it was a ‘heavy topic’. After an hour they had started shouting at each other and then …suddenly stopped.

When Raz’s curiosity became too much, he had snuck over to see if they hadn’t ended up killing each other. The only thing he saw was a sobbing Norma being hugged by a stunned Frazie. By the look that Frazie had thrown him as he peeked through the door, he knew something serious was going on, and that he had keep his mouth shut and leave. To this day, he has no idea what they had talked about, only that not too long after that, they went on a date and the rest was history.

She couldn’t help but smile as she watched Norma present Frazie with her Valentine’s present: a necklace, by the look of it. Even from her window, she could see Frazie’s cheeks redden as Norma placed the necklace around her neck. It was then that Frazie seemed to notice their little looky-loo, giving Lili a enthusiastic wave, prompting her to return the gesture. Norma gave a quick wave as well, and gestured Frazie towards the car, indicating they had to leave. If she knew Norma a little, she had made reservations at a fancy restaurant for them.

As she watched the car leave the property, she noticed movement in the upstairs windows. Dion’s room, to be precise. Dion’s girlfriend Gisu had arrived about half an hour ago. No idea what they’d be doing to celebrate this evening. Dion and Gisu weren’t really a ‘planning sort of couple’. They’d probably go out and see what the night would bring. Kinda romantic as well, in a lazy sort of way. But then …it fit that couple.

Dion and Gisu, now those were two who had the total opposite of what Norma and Frazie’s journey to romance had been. In fact, Lili found it a complete miracle that Dion had ended up with Gisu in the first place. Gisu lived in the street not too far from them, so she came around often to skate around. Dion – who’ve had a crush on her for a loooong time - thought one day it was the perfect opportunity to impress her with his skateboarding abilities.

The tiny problem with that? He had none. Zero. Never even touched a skateboard before. And so that’s how he ended up breaking his wrist, breaking Gisu’s board, and severely pissing off his crush. Lili absolutely believed that if Dion didn’t bought her a new board with his own money, Gisu’d never speak to him again. But seemed she was touched by the gesture. So they started hanging out …and suddenly started dating. Kinda similar to her and Raz, even if the latter really didn’t like to hear that comparison with his eldest brother. He always had been closer to Frazie than Dion, anyway.

Lili decided she’d had enough window watching, she turned around and walked back to her mirror, to give herself another once-over. Her eyes fell on a torn pair of gloves on her bookcase. She sighed sadly and took them off the shelf, giving the fingerless gloves a dismayed look. They had been her favorite pair of gloves and had worn them every day for years. Who cared they had been made with cheap fake leather and the metal studs were paper-thin and hollow? They were comfy and they completed her look. But years of wearing them had worn them down to the bone, so to speak. She had ripped one of them after getting them caught on something, and now they were ruined. She had worn them for so long, she almost felt naked without them. Kinda like Raz and those goggled that belonged to his great-grandfather, who had been a pilot in the war.

“Rest easy, buddies.” Lili said as she put the gloves back on the shelf. Her phone buzzed on her nightstand. It was a message from Raz saying he’d “be there in 5”. Lili’s heart fluttered and she quickly made the finishing touches, just in time as the doorbell rang.

“It’s for me!” She shouted as she ran down the stairs. She made a quick detour to the living room to see her dad Truman, who was watching tv. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re gonna be alright on your own?”

Truman rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Always the worrying daughter. I’ll be fine, little flower. You go have fun with Raz.”

Lili gave her father a wide smile and spun around to run to the door.

“I want you home by 10, you hear me?!” She heard her father shout.

“I know!” Lili stopped in front of the door, straightening out her outfit before she opened it. She giggled at the sight of her boyfriend. Raz was wearing a new vintage-looking leather jacket he’d bought a few weeks before, but that wasn’t the thing that she found funny. It seemed his mother had worked a comb on his usually messy hair, trying to style it. It looked kinda  nice …if you were born in the early 30’s. His trademark goggles hung securely around his belt.

Raz’s eyes lit up when he saw her. “Woah, you look …so pretty, Lil!” His eyes darted up and down, giving her a good look as she spun around. “New outfit?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Lili asked nonchalantly. “No, I’ve had it for a while now. I only wear it on special occasions.”

“That right?” Raz asked, that mischievous glint in his eyes that looked so cute on him. “So that tag on the collar that says “2024 collection. Brand New!” joining us on our date as well?”

Lili’s hand flew to the back of her neck, and yes, there was a tag there she’d forgotten to cut out. She blushed, grinning sheepishly. “Uh …busted?”

Raz chuckled and dug his hand in his shoulder bag. “Here, let me.” He pulled out a pocket knife and used it to cut the tag out, planting a quick kiss on her cheek as he got close to her, getting a soft kick against his shins in return. He straightened out her collar. “There, perfection.”

“Shut up, you dork.” Lili giggled. She folded her hands behind her back, swaying from side to side in an attempt to act cute. “So, what do you got planned for us, my handsome suitor.”

“I was thinking go see that movie you haven’t shut up about for weeks, having dinner at your favorite pizza place and then go to the park to see the Valentine’s Day Firework special.”

Lili grinned. “Sounds like my type of date.”

“That’s why we’re doing it. But before we go …” Raz grinned and dug into his bag, taking out a square, flat black box.

Lili raised an eyebrow. “Raz, I thought we decided we wouldn’t do gifts?”

“I know, but I bought one anyway.”

Lili couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, but I get to pay for the pizza!

“Fair enough.” Raz agreed with a chuckle, handing over the box. “Now open your present.”

Lili slid the lid off the box. Her eyes went wide and a gasp escaped her throat. In the box laid a pair of brand new, leather fingerless gloves, adorned with solid metal studs. “No. Freaking. Way! RAZ!”  

“I know how sad you were your favorite pair were damaged beyond repair.” Raz asked with a chuckle. “You can thank Lizzie for the studs. She put those on herself.”

Lili ran a finger over the material. “Raz, this is genuine leather! And it’s from a expensive brand!” She looked up. “How on Earth could you afford this?”

Raz rubbed the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. “Lets just say I’ve been doing a lot of extra chores around our house … and Gisu’s house … and at Norma ‘n Lizzie’s. Frazie helped pay for it a little in the end, when I seemed to come up short. You like them?”

“Like them? I love them!” She threw her hands around Razputin’s neck and kissed him fiercely. Raz immediately held her by her waist, pulling her closer to him. Both blushed as she pulled away. She held out the box towards Raz. “You wanna do the honors, my gallant knight?”

“It would be my pleasure, my fair lady.” Raz took the gloves out of the box – lili quickly threw the empty container down the hall – and held Lili’s hands as he gently pulled the gloves over her hands one by one.

Lili held out her hands and admired her new gloves. They were soft and comfy, yet had a sturdy look to them. The metal studs added some weight to them. Oh, the next creep who dared to bother her would regret their life choices, she was sure of that. She hugged Raz, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Raz.”

The way Razputin’s cheeks turned bright red was almost as great as the gift itself. “N-no problem, Lili.” He coughed in his fist. “Uh, we better get going if we’re gonna catch our movie.”

Lili hooked her arm in Razputin’s and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Lets!”

Razputin guided them to the front of his house and opened up the garage, where a familiar looking scooter was waiting.

“Hang on, isn’t that Dion’s?” Lili asked as she watched him wheel the thing out the garage.

“Yup.” Raz grabbed a helmet and secured it on his head, before throwing Lili another one.

Lili caught it and put it on. “How did you convince him to let you borrow it?” She asked as she adjusted the straps.

Razputin climbed on the scooter, giving Lili a sideways grin.

Lili grinned and crossed her arms. “You didn’t tell him, didn’t you?”

“Well-“

A shout was heard above them. “RAZPUTIN!” Lili looked up and saw a fuming Dion poking his head out. They could hear Gisu laughing her heart out behind him.

Raz flinched and gestured to Lili to climb on the scooter. Lili laughed and quickly got up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“He’s gonna kill you for this for sure, Raz.” Lili laughed as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Mom said I could use it.” Raz shouted with a shrug – more to Dion than to her - , flipping the switch to start the engine.

“Don’t you dare!” Dion shouted. “Raz, I- Oh, just wait until I get you!” His head popped back into his room, after which Gisu poked her head out. She leaned on the window sill, giving the young couple a warm smile.

“Hiya, my young ne'er-do-wells! So, it seems that Mirtala locked the door when he wasn’t looking, so I’d say you have about a minute before Deedee finds his spare key and kicks your butt, Raz!” She winked at Lili. “You look amazing, Lili.” She looked behind her and turned back with a grin. “He’s out. Better hustle, kiddos!”

“Thanks!” She tapped Razputin’s shoulder. “Let’s ride!”

The engine of the scooter roared alive. They managed to drive away in time, just as the front door opened and an angry Dion ran out, shouting after the laughing couple. Lili pulled herself tighter against Razputin’s back, grinning from ear to ear. All the nervousness she had felt earlier had washed away. If this sort of excitement was gonna be a regular thing in their relationship, she couldn’t wait what was next in store.

Just the way she liked it.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Miraculous Winx

(Please note that I will never do anything with this concept, so if anyone wants to give it a go, feel free!)

So, once I started thinking about it, this shit wouldn’t leave me alone. Let’s start with some basics.

In Winx Club, we have the Dragon Flame … and not much else? Like, why do we only have the Flame, representing concepts and power, but no other similar forces? Well, Miraculous Winx does.

These guardian spirits are everywhere. Representing not just flame, but water, time, illusion, destruction. Some, like the Dragon Flame, are protectors of specific planets and peoples. Some are more isolated, hiding from the world. However, once each generation or so, these spirits will pick a chosen to wield their power, to protect it and others. Some are obvious about their chosen, others hide until they are forced to reveal themselves. A few spirits, like the Domino Dragon Flame, only choose their wielders from the ruling family. Others, like the Fox of Illusion, choose at random. They accompany their chosen in “kwami” form (small and cute) to assist and guide them. The upcoming year at the various schools of Magick is notable for having the most known chosen attending - and the most prominent not.

See, forty or fifty years ago, the ruling family of Creati (yes, it’s a dumb name, Winx names were not much better, I am open to suggestions) lost their ruling family. The king, queen, both children, and the loyal family retainer, were all killed by insurgent rebels. This left a grieving uncle, Su-Han the First, to take the throne. While the kingdom has recovered from this devastating loss, in the time since, their guardian spirit, the Ladybug of Creation, has not chosen another wielder, and there are whispers about Su-Han’s line …

Meanwhile, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is struggling with what she wants to do with her life. While her parents are accomplished bakers, her uncle a master chef, and while Marinette has only ever been supported by her family for her dream to be a fashion designer, she feels like something is missing. Like there’s more out there for her, if she can just find it. When going to visit her grandfather, Fu Cheng, one of the only people she feels understands her sometimes, she encounters a strange kid with … magic powers!? Fighting butterfly monsters!? And she somehow BLASTS THEM WITH ENERGY!?!?!?

Life is about to get far more confusing, interesting, and … Miraculous.

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So, some rough Ideas (Again, keep in mind, I will never do anything with this, so if anyone wants to play around with any part of this idea, change shit, or whatever, go ahead):

So, Marinette isn’t a lost Royal - Sabine and her brother Wang are. Fu was their family retainer, and managed to escape with them the night their family was attacked. Fu was pretty sure that whoever attacked the family would track them down, and decided to hide on Earth, which as far as the Magic community is aware, hasn’t been magic for several centuries.

Fu has suspicions that Su-Han (technically his brother by circumstance) was behind the insurgents, in an attempt to steal the throne. He’s … half-right? Like, it was not Su-Han’s idea to try and assassinate anyone, but he was not above taking advantage of the situation after all was said and done.

While Earth’s magic has been “gone” for quite some time, Tom Dupain is Descended from one of Earth’s most prominent magical families.

Creati’s current rulers are Su-Han’s son, Zhao Yuen, and his wife Elizabeth. Their daughter, and heir to the throne, is Bridgette. While she is not chosen by Tikki, Ladybug of Creation, she is quite beloved by the people.

Sabine and Wang were, respectively, six months and three years old - combined with the trauma of watching your parents murdered in front of you, they don’t remember anything of where they came from. They are under the impression that their parents died in an accident (Fu is always vague because he hates lying to them) and that Fu is their uncle/godfather/close family friend.

The one actually in charge of the insurgent force that killed the ruling family of Creati was … well, if you want to get technical, Gabriel and Emilie Agreste. A related the queen of Creati’s sister planet, Destruk, Gabriel and Emilie are notable for being the chosen of Nooro, Butterfly of Metamorphosis, and Duusuu, Bird of Emotion. However, in recent years, both have fallen out of the limelight, and no one was really sure what happened to them. It’s only recently that the spotlight swung back on them when Plagg, Shadow Cat of Destruction, chose their son, Adrien, as his wielder, rather than Adrien’s cousin Felix, the next in line for Destruk’s throne.

It should be noted that, for all they are “sister” planets, Creati and Destruk’s ruling families have gone out of their way to avoid their families “merging”. There is an old legend that if the holders of Creation and Destruction “unite”, they could bring “miracles both wonderful and devastating”.

Many of the current “Guardians” attending Alfea/Cloud Tower/Red Fountain are of the “randomly selected/best fit” variety, rather than “chosen from royalty”. The main exceptions are Domino Princess Kagami, who is chosen by the Longg the Dragon Flame; Lady Chloe, niece of Amberix’s Queen, chosen by Pollen, the Subjugating Stinger; and Prince Adrien, cousin to Destruk’s heir, chosen by Plagg, The Shadow Cat.

Alya, the current chosen of Trixx, Fox of Illusion, is doing everything in her power to hide that she is chosen. That’s because people from her home planet, Miraj, face a lot of stigma from other peoples for being natural illusionists - lots of people assume that they are all natural liars and deceivers. Alya, wanting to be a news reporter, feels that no one would trust her as a news source if they knew she’d been chosen by Trixx. Helping her with her deception is her childhood “friend” Lila Rossi, who revels in the attention being “chosen” gets her, (and might be scheming to become chosen for real …)

Luka and Juleka live in a port town on Melody, in the Harmonic Nebulae. While Luka is pure Melodian, Juleka’s dad was from the planet Umbra, which has caused her to develop several traits that can cause problems for her. She has attended a support group for kids with clashing heritiages, which is where she met Rose, the daughter of a Linphea flower merchant, and a Destruk funerary director.

Chloe is the daughter of a prominent Eraklyon noble, and might have even been next in line for the throne if she played her cards right … until her powers finished properly manifesting, and it became SUPER OBVIOUS that Chloe isn’t exactly, uh, related to the royal family like everyone thought. While before she sneered at the thought of attending Alfea with so many “peasants”, now she can’t wait to attend, so she can get away from the messy divorce that is causing a massive scandal all over Eraklyon.

Chloe’s bio-dad is from a race of insect-bee-wasp-like humanoids from the planet “Amber 6”/“Amberix” (Please note this is the closest translation for the Amberix local dialect). While for the most part she passes as pure Eraklyon, once her fairy form finished settling, it became very obvious she had Amberix heritage. Unbeknownst to Chloe, her bio-dad is sibling to the current matriarch of Amberix, making her actually much closer to royalty than she was before.

Fu used to be chosen of Wayzz, the Impenetrable Shell, but he used a powerful spell to escape Creati, which caused him and Wayzz to be separated. the resulting power surge was so exhausting that Wayzz fell into a dormant state to recover, and stayed that way until he was discovered by someone with potential to become his next chosen.

Nino is vaguely embarrassed about his status as Wayzz chosen, because most of his friends have really cool stories about dream visions and quests to meet their spirits. Wayzz, however, was so dormant that he couldn’t do any of that stuff. Nino meeting Wayzz was a straight up accident. He was on a field trip to the castle, got kind of lost, found a piece neat of jewelry stuck in a crack, picked it up with the intention of giving it to the tour guide, forgot about it, made it all the way home before remembering, and put the bracelet on just cause, which woke up Wayzz. Nino proceeded to freak out, throw things at Wayzz until his parents showed up, and had to be talked out of running back to the palace to give the bracelet back. While Wayzz stands by his decision to keep Nino as his chosen, Nino is fully aware that him finding Wayzz was total coincidence.

Faragonda is still the principal of Alfea. Damocles is the Vice-Principal.

The Miraculous Cast Race Chart (subject to change if anyone has any other ideas

Marinette Dupain-Cheng - Creati-Earth/ magic specializes in creation, usually in “giving life” to creations

Adrien Agreste - Almost pure Destruk native, with 1/8 Solaris on his mother’s side (A previous ruler marries a Solaris royal)

Felix Graham de Vanilly - Almost pure Destruk native, with 1/8 Solaris on his mother’s side (A previous ruler married a Solaris royal)

Bridgette Yuen - Creati

Alya Cesaire - Miraj/ race of people with natural illusionist and camouflage abilities. some are also born with an innate ability to if they are being lied too, but this is so rare that not much is known about it, and those who have it often don’t recognize it.

Nino Lahiffe - Creati-Melody

Alix Kubdel - ????

Chloe Bourgeois - Eraklyon-Amberix

Luka Couffaine - Melody

Juleka Couffaine - Melody-Umbra

Max Kanté - Zenith (Tecna’s planet)

Kagami Tsurugi - Domino, current heir

Lê Chién Kim - Eraklyon (He’s part of the four percent of the population that is basically indestructible, hence his penchant for wild, dangerous dares)

Zoé Lee - Eraklyon-Aves/planet of bird-like people

Myléne Haprèle - ????

Rose Lavillant - Linphea-Destruk

Sabrina Raincomprix - Eraklyon-Lupual/planet of beings with dog/wolf like traits

Marc Anciel - Aves

Nathaniel Kurtzberg - ????

Ivan Bruel - ????

Fei Wu - Domino

Su-Han Yuen - Creati

Sabine Cheng - Creati

Tom Dupain - Earth

Wang Fu Cheng - Creati

Lila Rossi - Miraj

Wang Cheng - Creati

Gina Dupain - Earth

Rolland Dupain - Earth

Emilie Agreste - See Adrien

Amelie Graham de Vanily - See Felix

Colt Fathom - Destruk (deceased; killed for “treason” against the queen and heir)

Gabriel Agreste - Destruk-????

Andre Bourgeois - Eraklyon

Audrey Bourgeois - Eraklyon

Jagged Stone - Melody

Roger Raincomprix - Lupual

Damocles - Aves

(Again, I will never do anything with this, so feel free to sandbox around with it if you want!)

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Oh that is a LOT and I may be using some of the ideas let’s fuckin roll!