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qingyuns · 8 months ago

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— i won’t let you fall down, unless you’re in my arms

alternatively, the 3 times kinich saved you from falling and the 1 time that he was the one who fell

pairing: kinich x gn!reader, wc: 2.8k, two or three swear words, reader has a pyro vision because mualani kinich reader burgeon team is a funny hc i have, ajaw makes 2 brief appearances, fluffy but ig they don’t do that much?? pre-relationship and confessions (does this count as a confession), title from an nct dream song (rains in heaven), pls reblog ty

1) The fall that was Pacha’s fault

You were never one to back down from a challenge, not when your pride was on the line. And presently, it was. It was an unfortunate mistake on your part when you’d been a little too cocky, bragging about your rock climbing skills, and as an even more unfortunate result, a friend of yours from the Scions of the Canopy had decided to dare you to climb an actual cliff near his village.

“I’ve got all the equipment,” Pacha had exclaimed. “If you’re really that good, then this should be no sweat.”

You’d narrowed your eyes at him. You couldn’t tell if his smile was mocking or not.

“No problem.”

But now, as you looked up and tried to find another edge to grasp at, you were wishing you had backed down. Seriously, this cliff was just a flat canvas of orange. What were you supposed to hold onto?

“Stupid Pacha,” you hissed to yourself as you reached for a bump in the cliff face. “Stupid cliff.”

Man, you wished you had a Geo vision. Then you could probably create some kind of ledge to rest on. Or maybe an Anemo one would be more useful. You could make yourself float to the top.

You were also never one to be afraid of heights, but as you glanced down, your heart jolted at the distance between you and the ground. Too high. Much, much too high. Your Pyro vision hung uselessly at your hip.

A second glance told you that Pacha was no longer anywhere to be found, and you cursed him under your breath.

“Okay, don’t panic. Just don’t panic and don’t fall,” you huffed. “Easy enough.”

Your palms were moist, your fingers were suddenly too smooth. And just when you risked a second to wipe your hand dry on your leg….

….the other one slipped, and you were falling.

The organ in your chest seemed to stop. This is it, you thought, I’m dead. You were falling, and falling and falling, until suddenly, while your eyes were squeezed shut and your stomach was leaping like a wild Koholasaurus in water, you were flying.

It took you a second for your brain to orient itself, to realise that you weren’t in fact dead yet, but when it did, you felt an arm wrapped securely around your waist, so tight that it was almost painful. You peeled your eyelids open. In your limited view, your saviour was nothing more than a head of dark hair and a blur of green attire. The surrounding cliffs were reduced to blobs of colour as you were swung through the air, down then up, down then up, until your feet were once again on solid ground.

Your knees almost collapsed once you were, and both of your saviour’s arms moved to steady you. A blink. Two blinks. You waited for your breathing to return to normal, then your eyes flitted up to meet theirs.

A kaleidoscope of green and gold greeted you. Huh, pretty.

Your saviour let out a strangled sound, something between a choke and a grunt, and released you. Oh. Had you said that out loud?

“Uh, sorry,” you coughed awkwardly. You took a step back, fiddling with your fingers. “Thanks for saving me.”

With the bandana that was tied over his forehead, it was difficult to discern his emotions. He gave you a curt nod. “You should be more careful.”

A distant yell made both of your hands turn, and you saw the tiny figure of Pacha rapidly approaching and waving his hand at you. By the time he’d closed the distance, which to his credit only took about eight seconds (so he must have felt at least a little guilty about almost letting you die), the guy beside you had vanished.

“Are you okay?” Pacha exclaimed as he skidded to a stop in front of you. You nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief, before looking around curiously. “Was that Kinich?”

2) The fall that was a Tepetlisaurus’ fault

The next time you met Kinich (‘Malipo’ Kinich, a Saurian Hunter who according to Pacha, was transactional, blunt and borderline reclusive), you were on the cliffs by the Children of the Echoes, picking Saurian Claw Succulents as a favour for a new friend of yours, a sweet young girl by the name of Kachina.

And maybe you shouldn’t have been crouching so close to the edge of a cliff, but how you were supposed to know that a Tepetlisaurus burrowing in the earth would come straight for your footing and uproot you, effectively tossing you off the side? Really, it wasn’t your fault! It was just some kind of ninja saurian.

This was only the second time you’d ever fallen off the side of a cliff, but for some reason, you were hardly surprised when the same person came to your rescue this time.

He looked at you blankly as you clutched at the succulent in your hand, eyes darting around to avoid prolonged eye contact. You were sure he probably had an eyebrow raised under his bandana.

“Do you make it a habit to throw yourself off every cliff you come across?”

You flinched. “Well, no.”

His arms crossed over his chest, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes were drawn to the tattoos exposed on his biceps. The teal suited him, you thought absently.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a screeching voice. “Well, what’s your problem, then!”

A flashing myriad of yellow and green flitted into the air. The creature that had popped up from behind Kinich was … strange, to say the least. A strange, blocky thing. It looked strangely flat, like a hundred tiny, flat, square blocks. Were you going insane?

Kinich sent an annoyed glance towards the creature, before looking back at you to see that your mouth was now agape as you stared.

“Oh, right. You haven’t met Ajaw.”

“Oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling fainter than you had when falling off the cliff, “so this is Ajaw.”

The blocky creature expanded around the middle (you supposed that was the equivalent of puffing out its chest). “Aha! So you’ve heard of the Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, have you? Tell me, peasant, what have you been told? That I’m ferocious and powerful?”

Kinich sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. You blinked at the creature. You thought back to what Pacha had said – “Ajaw. He’s Kinich’s saurian companion. Really weird little guy. Super annoying.”

“Yeah,” you assented, “something like that.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Kinich sighed. It took you a second to realise that he wasn’t talking to you.

“Maybe you should shut up, Kinich!” Ajaw’s eyes angled themselves into a glare, and he fluttered around agitatedly.

The response he received was a flick of a gloved hand, which sent the Saurian soaring into the sky, until you couldn’t even see him anymore. You were pretty sure you’d never blinked as much in your life as you had in the last five minutes.

Kinich turned to you. “Sorry about him.”

“Um, that’s alright,” you said half-heartedly.

“So how come you’ve fallen off another cliff?”

Yikes. He must have thought you were either insanely insane or tremendously stupid.

“A Saurian knocked me off the side when I was picking succulents,” you muttered, cheeks flushing with heat.

He hummed. You weren’t quite sure what that meant. “And the other time?”

“Um, my friend dared me to climb the cliff. So I did.” You winced. “But I swear, these are the only times I’ve ever fallen off a cliff.”

It was a sentence you never thought you’d have to say. How embarrassing. You waited for the inevitable scolding or mocking to fall upon your ears, but then—

“Alright,” Kinich nodded easily. “Maybe try to avoid cliffs from now on."

Then he turned around, and started walking away. The sudden departure made you recoil in shock. Was the conversation over? Pacha really wasn't exaggerating when he said Kinich was reclusive.

"Huh? Wait a second!" You weren't sure what came over you in that moment, but you had a startling feeling that you couldn't let him leave here.

He paused, and turned to look at you, head tilted slightly to the side.

"Um, hold on." You thought for a moment. How to make him stay for longer? "Are you free right now? I'd like to treat you to a meal, if possible. You know, to thank you."

Your hands clasped in front of you and you fiddled with your fingers.

Kinich blinked slowly for a moment and stared at you. For a horrible moment, you thought he was going to decline, in which case you would have had to turn tail and flee on the spot, but instead, he nodded.

"I have some time."

You brightened. "Great! I know this place that has the best tatacos!"

There was a light skip in your movements as you began to lead the way, trusting that he was following you. You could only hope he didn't eat too much. You weren't sure your pockets could afford it, and you'd hate to make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of him by being too broke to pay. What a horrible first impression...

“Oh, right!” you paused in your steps for a moment. “I forgot to introduce myself!”

And so you did, and you watched as something that almost looked like a smile twitched at Kinich’s lips. Then, as if testing the way it rolled on his tongue, he repeated your name carefully.

Something fluttered in your stomach as you beamed. Yeah, you sure liked the way that sounded.

3) The fall that was the fault of a slippery rock

“No, guys, trust me. I just discovered it. It’s like, really underground.”

Kinich sighed as Mualani giggled at her own joke. As if on impulse, you laughed along with her, but you even as the sound escaped you, you couldn’t tell if it came from a place of pity or not. Underground, because it was literally in an underground cave. Hilarious. Still, a small smile made its way onto your face. This was nice. As much as you loved your other friends, it sure felt great to hang out with people who didn’t always challenge you to risk your life (fuck you, Pacha), though you suspected Mualani was just waiting for a chance to take you Spirit Wave riding, and you weren’t sure you were quite ready for that yet.

Today, however, you were spared. Mualani had promised you and Kinich a relaxing afternoon in a new hot spring she’d found. And so you were following her into an opening in the rock face.

The air was immediately a little cooler than it was outside as you stepped into the darkness. The cave was still illuminated by the sunlight, and you could see more patches of light ahead. It glowed slightly in the reflections of the rock on the ground.

“It’s a little steep here,” your friend warned. “Watch your step.”

No sooner had you nodded to show your understanding than you had placed your foot down on a particularly slippery patch on the floor, and it slid.

A gasp tore out of you, but two arms were already wrapping around you from behind.

“Be careful,” his voice murmured in your ear. You almost gasped again. How glad you were that he was behind you and thus couldn’t see the way you froze up at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

From a little ways ahead of you, Mualani called out. “Hey, you alright?”

Your throat suddenly felt very dry. You cleared it before telling her that you were.

Kinich kept one hand on your waist for the next few steps before removing it after you had found your footing. You found yourself missing his touch upon the removal.

No matter, you assured yourself. Focus on not falling over again. The decline of the slope eased out into a flatter path, and soon the tunnel opened up into an expansive area. The underground spring was much brighter than you had anticipated, thanks to the perfectly round opening at the top. Smooth, round rocks seemed to line the edge, and the water sparkled in the ripples as Mualani crouched down to test it with her hand.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed.

You turned your attention to her. “What is it?”

“It’s cold! It was really toasty last time, though,” she frowned. “It must be because it’s further away. The underground water flow can get unstable and–“

As she rambled on, you crouched by the side of the spring, dipping your hand into the water. It lukewarm at best, but the pool wasn’t as big as most of the one’s above ground. You could work with this. Placing both hands in the not-so-hot spring, the vision at your side pulsed with energy. You let the heat flow through your body to your fingertips, as steam floated just above the surface of the water.

You failed to notice the pair of eyes that were fixed on you as you smiled to yourself.

“Hey, Mualani? Is this better?” Mualani’s eyes widened as she watched the mist rising out of the hot spring.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squealed. She rushed to your side, squeezing you in a hug, before drawing back immediately. “Ow, hot!”

The girl quickly submerged her arms in the water, sighing in relief. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

You grinned at your friends, stepping into the water yourself. “Shall we swim?”

The pounding of your heart against your chest was hard to ignore when Kinich slid into the spring and settled right beside you.

???) The fall that wasn’t even you

Kinich wasn’t sure what was wrong with him lately. He’d been sleeping the same, his regimented diet was unchanged, but in recent weeks, he’d found himself feeling a lot more strange.

Hunting commissions had been slow lately, so he’d taken the liberty of accepting ordinary bounties and commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild. When you’d heard about it, you’d insisted on joining him. He hadn’t had a problem with that, but since he started taking on these new commissions, Kinich had noticed that something was happening to his health.

He’d been spending a lot of time with you these days, but that couldn’t be it. How could that explain his borderline feverish symptoms? The heat that flushed his head and neck sometimes, and the weird way that his heart flipped, like it did when he went bungee jumping that one time.

And sure, those symptoms only happened when he was with you, but that was just because he was almost always with you. How could fighting a few treasure hoarders in your presence make him ill?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ajaw growled. “You like them!”

Kinich was too surprised to scoff. “What?”

“You have a big fat crush.”

“No, I don’t.”

The little green dots in Ajaw’s eyes rolled around so hard, Kinich thought they might fall out.

“Fine! Don’t believe me, then! Even though you blush whenever you’re with them, and you stare at them when they’re talking, and you didn’t even complain when they wanted to join your commissions and you’ve been losing half the profit!”

Ajaw’s body doubled in size before he vanished in agitation. Kinich raised a hand to his chin in thought. He needed a second opinion.

“You like them,” Mualani replied simply. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Kinich blanched. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it is,” she grinned. “Dude, you’ve fallen hard.”

There was a twist in his stomach. The tips of his ears turned redder than a hot chili pepper.

“Come on, Kinich. You’re a smart guy. Think about the way they make you feel.”

Despite everything, despite the fact that he was, in fact, a smart guy, and he had always been sure to analyse and prepare for every outcome, and he was always weighing the costs of his relationships and seeing right through people and thinking way too much about everything—

—the realisation hit him like a tidal wave.

Oh.

Mualani grinned, satisfied. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then.”

Kinich barely registered her departure.

Because of course. Your relationship had never been transactional. All you ever did was give and give, and without even realising it, he’d poured his all into giving back without a moment’s hesitation. He’d never asked anything of you, nor you of him.

And because Kinich was a level-headed man, and ever-so-straightforward, there was no time wasted before he was at your front door.

If there was ever one thing he would ask of you, it was this.

“I like you, and I need to know if you feel the same.”

A grin found its home on your lips. A step forward and you closed some of the distance. The sparkle in your eyes did nothing to shake Kinich’s nerves, but it did make his stomach flip.

“Guess you’re the one falling for me now, huh?”

#kinich x reader #kinich #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #natlan #mualani #kinich imagines #written works !

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thanosscross · 5 months ago

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My girl! - Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader part 1/?

Summary: You had been a dancer for Thanos a few times in the past, but after he started acting more like an ass you cut off ties, until he saw you again in a death game against him.

warnings: nothing really, just your usual squid game gore.

You had met the infamous rapper Thanos twice before, being called back to his music video shoots repeatedly, so you weren't strangers, but you were sure he didn't know you other than one of his dancers. You were mistaken though, The moment you stepped into the room Choi su-bong had his eyes on you, he liked you, you were the first one of his dancers to not throw yourself at him the moment he walked into the shoot. You watched as a few names listed off with their debts, stifling a laugh seeing the familiar face appear on the giant screen hit his vape before being slapped, frowning whenever you saw yourself, watching as you took the slap recovering quickly before it flashed to a man with 10 million won worth of debt.

Thanos felt his body tense watching the recruiter smack you, you were as small and fragile as a flower, why such force behind the slap? As you navigated to your bed to sit down, you spotted Thanos and another man causing a slight scene with a third guy. Smiling to yourself whenever you saw his friend stop him from hitting the dude, that's whenever you froze, your smile falling and face turning red whenever his head turned and his eyes locked onto you.

"Thanos? Who's that boss?" Nam-gyu asked "My girl!" Thanos shouted, a smiling stretching across his face as he ran over, throwing himself onto the bed next to you "What're you doing here, senorita?" He asked, making you shrink back into the mattress trying to hide from the sudden rush of attention being drawn to you. "M-my brother's in debt..I wanted to help him" You explained quietly, trying to get him to get the hint to lower his volume by emphasizing your whispers. "You were always so sweet, that's why I made you one of thanos's girls" He said giving you the infamous smirk he'd always flash you in-between filming scenes for his videos "I am not one of your girls, I like to think I have more respect for myself than that" You tried to say confidently, Choi su-bong laughed in reply, throwing his head back just to prove his point more that he found your reply terribly funny.

Before you could ask what exactly landed him here, the guards were waiting for you all to leave single file, Thanos made a point to stay by your side the entire walk out to an outstretched field with a doll at the end. "So, y/n, why didn't you come back for my last shoot?" He asked pouted, causing you to roll your eyes "I just, didn't have time, plus, I have the right to say no, ya now" You argued, trying to listen to the rules before the game started. "And with that, let the games begin" You took off as soon as you heard greenlit, it you were gonna do this, you were gonna be the best. Freezing when you heard red light, you looked at the people in front of you, jumping as a loud gunshot fired off and people started screaming. As you heard green light you used your time to look back, scanning for whatever the commotion was, and where choi su-bong was. Seeing him fidgeting with his necklace, you both froze as you heard red light again, locking eyes, you could see the blood on his faces, and the panic in his eyes, holy shit. Whenever you heard green you took off for the end, desperate to get away from this damn area, as you heard redlight again, you tried to stop, but the dirt shifted under your feet and you felt yourself start to lose balance. A hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around, and pulling you in until you were face to face with Choi su-bong's chest "I gotchu, Can't have one of my girls dying on me can I?" You heard him say. You held your breath, waiting for it all to end, but instead the game persisted, Thanos taking you by the hand as he galloped and leaped the rest way to the end.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold back every bit of panic and anxiety that was currently washing over you "Hey, you're alright" He whispered, using his index finger to have you lock eyes with him, this was the Choi su-bong you remembered and liked working for, sweet, gentle, but after he got a little fame boost and a group of friends from his underground battles, he just got really rude and disrespectful, that's when he started to fully go by Thanos. "I-I don't wanna d-die here, su-bong" You whispered, gripping onto your jacket to keep your hands from shaking, he was quick to counteract that by grabbing them and holding them gently in his "You won't, I won't let you! You saw! I was like woosh woosh!" He shouted, recreating his actions from before, his gentleness was gone, and Nam-gyu now stood next to him. That's whenever it finally dawned on you, it wasn't that su-bong changed, he was acting badass for his friends, at your expense most times.

You were silent the walk back to the room, making a straight shot for your bed, desperate to get away from him. He was still on your heels, the entire walk, eventually catching you giving Nam-gyu an annoyed glare and shooing him away. "my girl! please! I hate when you ignore me!" He begged, you just kicked off your shoes and crawled underneath the blanket they provided you, not wanting to hear him. "Please" He whispered, kneeling down to rest his forehead against yours "Baby.." He begged quieter, running his hand through your hair "Just because I'm speaking to you right now, does not mean I forgive you" You replied "But you don't call me that, you had a chance, I asked you out to dinner, and then coffee after you said you didn't have time at night, and that's whenever you told me you don't date 'dancers' in front of all of your friends, remember?" You spat glaring at him, just wanting to smack him across his stupid handsome face. "I don't date people who work for me!" He whisper shouted at you, you huffed "Fuck you Su-bong" That's all you could you say, you were too pissed off to think of anything else, he took notice "Punch me" He offered "What?..." you questioned, he grabbed your hand balling it up "Hit me" He repeated, you just shook your head, trying to push him away, before you could realize what happened, Su-bong was tumbling down the few steps that separated your bed from the floor, you jumped up, well, you tried to, rushing to the bottom to check on him "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to shove you t-that har-" You were cut off by somebody shouting "Holy shit that crazy bitch just shoved that kid!" Su-bong's head snapped over, he immediately popped up, almost like a cartoon character "Who the hell!?" He shouted, you jumped, flinching back a bit worried he might be yelling at you, until he stormed off, you rushed out to get a better view of him nailing someone in the jaw, Nam-gyu and you both rushing over "Thanos!" He shouted "Su-bong!" You grunted, both of you shoving the other two away from each other "Nobody disrespects my girl!" Su-bong shouted, walking over wrapping his arm around your waist "Stop it" You whispered, feeling everybody staring at you, he just tightened his hold around your waist "Let's goo!" He shouted all of a sudden rushing over to where him and nam-gyu sat, ready to talk about the next game.

#choi su bong x reader #thanos x reader #thanos/choi su bong #squid game thanos #squid game season 2 #choi seunghyun #thanos squid game #squidgame #squid game

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euphorajeon · 8 months ago

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if it's a dream (i'll come around)

— request: jeongguk + yes or no - jungkook

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, best friend!jk, most likely inaccurate desc of new york, jk is still pining, jk orders food excessively (again), cliches (sorry)

— summary: something in the new york air makes jeongguk feel a rush: a rush to admit, a rush to tell, a rush to take a leap. he's just not sure whether you feel it too.

— author's note: it's finally here!! i'm sorry for taking so long to write this request. thank you areyousure!jeongguk for inspiring me to finish this request. hah. i hope you still enjoy!! (its unedited. maybe i'll come back someday to edit.)

a continuation of opposite of sun and light of the morning. please read the first two parts before reading this!

masterlist

Jeongguk never thought that it could be so hard to walk around New York.

There are people everywhere, going in a thousand different directions than him, and they walk so fast Jeongguk struggles to keep up even with his long legs. The shops he caught his eyes on were always full too, making him turn away from the door and look for other places that aren't so filled to the brim. Maybe he should’ve gone somewhere not as touristy as Times Square.

But above all, the hardest part of his stroll today is walking alongside you and having to feign nonchalance about it.

Jeongguk’s life as a singer doesn’t really allow him to have much free time, and even when he does, you either have work, class, or anything in between. As a result, the both of you can’t meet often. Jeongguk is so used to just seeing your face on his phone screen, talking to you via a video call connection, that seeing your form walking beside him throws him off balance.

It’s a good thing your face is mostly covered by the camera in your hands, otherwise Jeongguk would’ve spent the entire day with a blush dusting his cheeks just from holding eye contact with you.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Jeongguk squints his eyes past the camera lens covering your face, searching for your eyes which are shaded by the faded black cap sitting on your head. You only respond with a shrug, gesturing towards the camera as if to remind Jeongguk of its existence. He sighs, lifting your cap with a finger so he can look at your eyes. “Bun.”

“You’re not supposed to talk to me, you know?” you huff, trying to balance the device in your hand so Jeongguk’s face is still in frame. “I’m your cameraman for today, not your best friend.”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Camerawoman,” he corrects, “and who says I’m not allowed to talk to you? Do you think I talk to myself the entire time I’m filming vlogs like this?”

“Seems like it,” you say. “Sometimes they’re funny, but most of the time they just make me think ‘what even is he saying?’”

A slow grin spreads on Jeongguk’s face, his eyes still trained on you instead of the camera. When you look away from the small screen of the device in your hand, Jeongguk feels like his smile could split his face into two, and it must look bizarre on camera, but he doesn’t care. What he does care about is—

“You watch my vlogs?”

Suddenly, Jeongguk feels like he is not a popular singer with fans all over the world who tune in to his regular vlog updates, but just Jeon Jeongguk, a boy with a crush to impress. The way you unintentionally confirmed that you watch his vlogs makes him feel all giddy inside that it slipped his mind that you already said the same thing this morning in his hotel room.

Maybe this is what people mean when they say love makes one stupid.

“Only to see what other stupid shenanigans you do this time,” you mumble, dabbing around your face with the back of your free hand. It suspiciously looks like you’re trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, but Jeongguk immediately throws that thought away from his mind. It must be the New York heat that’s making your face hot like this.

“Just admit you enjoy seeing my face on your phone that much,” Jeongguk says cheekily, settling for a response that’s annoying, teasing, but familiar for the both of you. Maybe he’ll address the not-blush on the apple of your cheeks some other time.

“Where was this confidence about me watching your Times Square performance, huh?” You punch his shoulder lightly, which he’s sure makes the image of him on camera shake and blur. “Saying I ‘ghosted’ you because your performance is ‘bad’. What nonsense was that.”

“Hey, I was really worried about you, okay?” Jeongguk pouts. “Besides, I still need your opinion on my performances, whereas my vlogs are usually just me messing around. It’s different.”

Whatever response you have prepared in your mind gets interrupted by your phone ringing, which startles you so much you almost drop the camera from your hand. Good thing Jeongguk has fast reflexes, immediately enclosing his hands around yours before you could do any damage to the device. Upon checking the caller ID, your expression turns to one of worry.

Jeongguk takes the camera away from you. “Take the call,” he says. “I’ll just be here.”

While you step away to do just that, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to finally pay attention to the camera that he has been ignoring for the past few minutes, checking himself out on the small screen and running his fingers through his hair while holding eye contact with the lense. He goes on social media often enough to know that his fans will cut this specific clip from the vlog and fangirl over how good he looks while doing that.

Sometimes he wonders whether you see those clips and have the same reaction as his fans. Do you see them and scroll past them like they’re nothing? Do you scoff at his antics? Do you shake your head with a small laugh?

There’s also a possibility of you not even seeing those clips at all, but Jeongguk likes to think he’s popular enough that his clips can’t help but still end up in your feed. (Also, it hurts his little heart too much to imagine otherwise.)

You come back to him from your phone call with anxiety written all over your face. Jeongguk doesn’t even need to inquire before you squeak out your concern yourself.

“The deadline for my midterm paper has been moved. It’s now due in five hours. Jeongguk, what do I do?”

The both of you end up going back to Jeongguk’s hotel to fish out your brick-ass laptop from your gigantic backpack, the camera in his hands still recording. You’ve told him that he could continue exploring New York on his own, bringing the camera noona like the initial plan was, but Jeongguk insisted on coming with you instead. Why would he go with anyone else when you are here?

Still, though, because he doesn’t want to lose the sense of exploring a new place, he drags you to a dessert cafe near his hotel, offering to hold your laptop in his arms while you walk the short distance to the cafe. Despite your protests, Jeongguk manages to convince you to leave the camera on for the entirety of this laptop fiasco, capturing every moment from the laptop tug-of-war in Jeongguk’s hotel room to his grin in response to your sulking face when you’re both seated in the dessert cafe.

His video editor would hate him for this, but Jeongguk doesn’t care. You’re here, in New York with him, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try his hardest to preserve any memories you make here.

“I don’t understand why you’d rather be stuck here with me than be out there exploring sunny New York in all its glory,” you huff while waiting for your laptop to turn on. It takes a while, Jeongguk notices, but your pout prevents him from saying anything about it. “What idiot has free time in New York and chooses to spend it cooped inside some random cafe?”

Jeongguk pretends to adjust the camera sitting on the table—angled in a way that it captures his face only—so he doesn’t have to look at your face when he says his next words: “Your idiot, Bun.”

You level him with a flat stare. “So you admit you’re an idiot.”

If it means being yours, sure, Jeongguk thinks. He really should stop thinking thoughts like these lest he blurt them out in front of you, on camera.

“I’m gonna order, what do you want, Bun?” Jeongguk asks as an attempt to steer the conversation away from idiots with feelings.

You look up from your (finally on) laptop screen with your head in your hands. “Anything except americano,” you mumble. “Thanks, Jeon.”

“Sure, Bun.” Jeongguk stands up from his seat, grabbing the camera to bring with him to the cashier. “You sure you don’t want anything else?”

The way you shake your head dejectedly is so uncharacteristic of you, given you’re both in a cafe filled with the smell of baked goods—something that usually brings a light of excitement into your eyes. Jeongguk can only imagine how stressful it is being a college student and having your midterm deadline be moved to hours earlier, and to experience all this while being jet lagged from a 14-hour flight prior surely doesn’t help.

Jeongguk has to physically hold himself from ducking down to engulf you in a hug, squeeze his arms around your frame until your frown is turned upside down and he can bear witness to your smile once again. For now, he can only wish that the cafe sells the type of bread you like so he can at least alleviate some of your burden with the sweet treat.

When he goes to the cashier to order, his polite smile is responded with a gasp from the cafe worker, clearly recognizing him as the popular singer. His smile turns into something more genuine—albeit a bit shy also—when the worker mentions that she’s a fan of his. After exchanging some pleasantries with her, Jeongguk proceeds to order. He just doesn’t realize how many desserts and pastries in the display case he’s pointed at until the worker asks him a question.

“Are you here with your crews?” she inquires, still tapping away at the computer screen in front of her. When Jeongguk only stares at her with wide eyes, she continues. “We can provide individual utensils for each of you if you’d like,” she offers.

Oh. Oh. Jeongguk thought she was asking for conversational purposes. “Uh, just two sets would be fine. Thank you.”

Still, it doesn’t register in his brain that he’s ordered too many pastries for two people until he’s coming back to your table with only both of your drinks on the tray in his hands. He sets your drink down next to your laptop, on which you’re typing furiously like you’re a madman chased by a tight deadline (in a way, you kind of are.)

Only when three cafe workers come back to back to your table to drop off his order of various kinds of desserts and pastries does he realize that he might have gone overboard with his order. Jeongguk can only flash a guilty smile your way when you tear your eyes away from your laptop to gape at the array of desserts in front of you.

“Are you trying to feed an entire village?” you ask incredulously.

“Hehe,” Jeongguk offers. “I was thinking about you and how you looked so stressed out because of your deadline and I just … ordered pretty much everything … for you.” He scratches his head sheepishly while setting the camera to its initial position on the corner of the table. He hopes the camera doesn’t pick up the way his cheeks blossom with heat. Or if it does, he hopes the editor cuts this part out.

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he imagines this part or not, but your eyes soften at his words and your next words are more gentle in tone. “Thank you, but there’s no way I would be able to finish all of these by myself.”

“Did you forget that you have Jeon Jeongguk for a best friend?” There’s a smug smirk on his face now, replacing the sheepish one he was sporting a few minutes ago. He likes it when you’re soft with him, vulnerable in a way only he’s allowed to see, but that’s exactly the problem: you’re both on camera, and whether or not this gets shared to the world, it’s still not as private as he would’ve liked. So he’s back on his annoying best friend persona to stop your vulnerable side from coming out.

You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a sliver of a smile on your lips.

The both of you spend the next few minutes enjoying your desserts and drinks, with Jeongguk cutting the desserts into bite-sized pieces so you can eat them with ease. He also does not forget his job as an entertainer, showing each and every one of the desserts to the camera and making sure his delightful hums are loud enough for the camera to pick up. He’s humming along to the song being played in the cafe while chewing when it suddenly plays an intro of a song he knows by heart—and judging from the way you look up from your laptop, you do too.

“Did they know you’re here?” The smile on your face is teasing.

“The cashier recognized me, said she’s a fan,” Jeongguk explains, turning his head in the direction of the cashier, trying to find the aforementioned worker. Upon making eye contact with her, Jeongguk mouths a thank you! with a smile, which she responds with a thumbs up.

��You must have made her day by coming here. Her whole week, even,” you chuckle, going back to typing on your laptop. The smile quickly drops from your face as you’re forced to go back to thinking mode for your midterm paper. Jeongguk nudges a fork full of pastry into your hand, silently asking you to eat.

“Then would you still say I’m an idiot for choosing to be here with you?”

Jeongguk said he’d leave this topic alone, revisit it later when he’s got the courage to do so, but what can he do? Your presence here with him makes him overwhelmed with feelings that sometimes it slips in between his words.

The only response he receives from you is silence. Jeongguk doesn’t know whether it’s because you didn’t want to respond or you simply just didn’t hear him. It’s most likely the latter as any attempt he makes to make you eat the desserts are useless as you’re too immersed in your paper. He ends up just feeding you bites after bites of desserts, grateful and giddy that you take them without protests as you’re typing.

As he’s cutting up more pastries for you to eat, the song changes to ‘Yes or No’, the fifth track on his latest album that he performed live two days ago at Times Square. He remembers you telling him that your friend, Yeseo, became a fan after listening to this song. Jeongguk tries to suppress a smile by biting his bottom lip as he listens to the lyrics of the song.

Are you feeling the rush?

Are we falling in love?

Say yes or no

In an interview, Jeongguk told the public that no songs from his album are based on his personal life, although he hopes he still delivered the messages of the songs well enough. What he doesn’t say, however, is that he thinks of you whenever he listens to or performs this song. It’s a song about a person in love and still wonders whether the other person is feeling the same way. Sometimes he wishes he could be honest and sing the words to you, pour out his feelings along the way, and he wishes you could feel the same way.

Jeongguk stops his activities of cutting desserts into bite-sized pieces and leans his back against his chair, staring at you. You’re still hyper-focused on your paper that you don’t notice his gaze, typing away on your laptop without a care for the love pouring out of his eyes.

Jeongguk knows you love him.

You love him enough to answer his video call at two am when you were studying. You love him enough to sacrifice sleep to watch his performance. You love him enough to book a flight to New York immediately after even though you still have a midterm paper to finish. You love him enough to walk around JFK with a heavy backpack hanging off your shoulders. You love him enough to join him exploring New York instead of resting off your jet lag.

But does that mean you love him enough to return his feelings the way he wants you to?

As he ponders the answer to that question, his hand moves on its own accord to continue feeding you the dessert he has cut up. You continue accepting the food he feeds you, and Jeongguk thinks maybe he needs to stop being selfish and just be content with whatever he has with you right now: friendship.

Although, in this moment, feeding you desserts while you do your paper, he feels like your college boyfriend he wished to be nights ago when you were a mere video on his phone. He already dresses the part—jeans and oversized hoodie—and feels the part, but that’s the thing about parts, isn’t it? That they’re not real, that they’re only there in his head.

You have cream on the corner of your lips from a particular big cut of dessert Jeongguk just fed you, and it feels like autopilot when he leans forward to swipe the cream off your lips with his thumb. He slots the thumb in between his own lips, sucking the cream clean off his skin. The innocent round of his eyes are met with the shocked round of yours, unblinking as you stare at the thumb previously on your lips, now on his.

“What?” he asks dumbly.

You shake your head. There’s an unmistakable crimson on the apple of your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat. The blush on your face remains, and if Jeongguk’s sight serves him right, deepens instead. “Just, remember that you’re on camera the next time you want to do that.”

“So I can do it again if I turn off the camera?”

Jeongguk surprises himself by how steady he sounds. A tad too serious, too, and if he’s not careful, you might take it that he really wants to do it again, for real. His heart hammers in his chest as his hand inches towards the camera, fingers ready to turn the device off.

“Jeongguk,” you say slowly in a warning tone. “Namjoon will kill me if you try anything funny.”

Letting out his signature big grin, Jeongguk retracts his hand from the camera.

“Sorry, Bun. I’ll let you finish your paper in peace now.”

If you have cream on your lips again, maybe he’ll swipe it off with his lips instead. Maybe later, when he has the courage to. Maybe later, when he’s let you know how he really feels.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

a/n: thank you for reading! i still have 1 (one) more idea for this couple pair of bestfriends but not sure if i have the brain capacity to actually write it out ahaha let me know if you want to see more of them though :D

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #fanfic #fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts college au #jungkook college au #jungkook drabble #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #idol!jungkook

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satorusugurugurl · 1 year ago

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

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starlostseungmin · 1 year ago

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husband!chan

✰ notes: the second entry of husband!skz series!! this is just for the meantime since my brain is still not ready to write a lot. i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin（ chan ）lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Chan who got down on one knee and asked, “Will you marry me?” on a private beach—just the two of you—because it was his ideal proposal and you gladly said yes.

Husband Chan who took you to (name of country) for your honeymoon.

Husband Chan who would take you to Sydney for a vacation and meet his family.

Husband Chan who suggested to make Berry as your child while you were still thinking about having literal kids. It doesn’t matter how long, he only needs you and Berry to make him happy.

Husband Chan who has seven children to feed and declare you as his wife.

Husband Chan who puts you first before everything.

Husband Chan who loves to send pictures with the caption “For your eyes only,” and giggles to himself while reading your replies saying how much he looks cute or handsomeーhe can imagine your reactions.

Husband Chan who loves movie nights and lets you decide which one you’d be watching so you better wear the most comfortable clothes and prepare a bucket of popcorn.

Husband Chan who cooks you a lot of food and loves spoon-feeding you because you are his precious baby.

Husband Chan who pretends he doesn’t know about you stealing his hoodies. He doesn’t mind and gets all giddy when you wear them since they look cute on you. “I’m not giving them back,” You said. “What’s mine is yours, baby,” He smiled.

Husband Chan who invites you out on a dinner date on a casual weekend because he knows you would enjoy it. After dinner you would stroll around the city, holding hands.

Husband Chan who carries you to your shared bed when he finds you sleeping on the couch while waiting for him to come home from work.

Husband Chan who writes love songs about you and gets teased by Han and Changbin.

Husband Chan who gives you the silent treatment but can’t put up with it for hours so he just pretends nothing happened and cuddles you.

Husband Chan who knows what exactly you want when you’re upset and would gladly take you in his arms. He never leaves your side unless you want some space but you can’t be away from him for too long.

Husband Chan who scolds you when you are not resting enough when he’s out there overworking himself. You decided that both of you should take a few days off which he willingly agreed to so he can spend more time with you.

Husband Chan who lets himself be vulnerable when he’s with you because you’re the only one with whom he could let it all out.

Husband Chan who loves to spoil you with hugs whenever you need them.

Husband Chan who listens and understands whatever situation and dilemmas you have without any judgments rather he reassures you that everything will be okay. He gives you his full support for your decisions.

Husband Chan who knows everyone in the industry so he knows a lot of controversies. He would share them with you on a random Sunday to gossip and giggle.

Husband Chan who loves to make dad jokes and relays pick-up lines just to make you laugh. He gets embarrassed when it’s not funny so he hides in the bathroom until you get over it.

Husband Chan whose love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and acts of service.

Husband Chan who has the most precious smile and laughs adorably makes your heart leap.

Husband Chan whom you love the most in the world and will not let anything hurt him.

Husband Chan whom you want to spend the rest of your life with, forever and always.

Husband Chan who will never leave, never lets you go, and never allow you to divorce him because there’s no reason to begin with. He loves you, you love him, same story.

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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jkwrites-m · 25 days ago

Text

Another Time (1)

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, thriller, smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 7.9k

Summary: When Y/N and Jungkook begin sharing vivid dreams of each other, their connection feels too real to ignore. When tragedy from a past life begins bleeding into the present, they’re forced to unravel the mystery of love, betrayal, and fate.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, emotional child abuse, shitty ass parents, slight cursing, sexual tension, fluff, cigarettes, alcohol consumption (pls drink responsibly!!), kissing, heavy petting (??)

A/N: hi so this is my first ever fic (: I normally just read but one day (abt 3 months ago) I wanted to write something so I decided to try and it took me a that long bc I’m really lazy and suffer from perfectionism so I had to write then rewrite the entire thing first 😭 anyways please enjoy and let me know what you think and any criticism is welcome! - m 🫶

Notes : okay ONE more thing 🤧 anything in normal text is present day. Anything in BOLD is a dream-memory. Okay NOW you can enjoy 🫶

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ next

═══════

There are things in this universe no one can truly explain.

Not with science. Not with reason. Not even with faith. Some things simply are. They’re undeniable, inexplicable, scary.

Like the way a stranger can stop you in your tracks with a single glance. You’ve never met them, yet something in you stirs like a memory. A flicker of recognition that doesn't belong in this moment, but somewhere before it. You feel it before you understand it: the quiet certainty that this person was never a stranger at all.

Or how a passing scent that carries the trace of something familiar. Cigarette smoke and spring rain, warm vanilla and leather, a perfume you haven’t smelled in years. Then suddenly, you’re not standing in the present anymore. You’re somewhere between then and now, in a place you remember too well.

And then, there’s the connection. The kind that you don’t form. It’s the kind that you remember. You meet someone, and it doesn’t feel like the beginning. It feels like you're returning. You speak in glances, in comfortable silences, in laughter of stories that have long since passed. As if your souls had been waiting, circling back through lifetimes just to find each other again.

═══════

You remember how your mother used to talk about love.

Not just in passing, clichés or fairy tales, but with the influence of someone who had lived it. She spoke about her father like he had been written into her story long before they ever even met. She’d say his name like it held her heart. And every time she did, you felt something hopeful bloom quietly inside you.

On quiet days, coloring at the dining room table, where the sun would slip through the kitchen windows and the world outside felt calm, she'd tell you how she first saw him. How he wasn’t trying to be noticed. He didn’t have to be. He just was. A first glance on that blind date, a leap into the unknown from the suggestion of a friend, and somehow, she knew that he was the one.

“I loved him before he ever looked my way,” she would whisper over coffee, stirring the spoon slowly like she was turning back time. “It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t planned. But I just… knew.” She said it in a way that made you believe her. Not because it sounded magical, but because it didn’t. It sounded like the truth. Like something your own heart might recognize one day too, if it ever got the chance.

Somehow, it became the blueprint for my own dreams. I didn’t just want love. I wanted that. That unshakable certainty. That gentle breath of familiarity. But even before I could name it as love, before I ever heard her stories of fate and forever, there was him.

That funny-looking boy I saw every night in my dreams. His large eyes always had a hint of curiosity and playfulness. For as long as I could remember, he was always there. With eyes I never really understood but always trusted. The dreams weren’t centered on me, though they came through my eyes. He was always the focus, the center of every scene. I watched him grow alongside me, getting older with each year, his features maturing just as mine did. The way he would look at me with more love in every single dream.

═══════

The playground smelled like sunshine and peanut butter.

The bell had barely finished ringing when the doors burst open and kids flooded the blacktop like bees from a hive. It was the kind of day where the air was crisp but the sun still made your cheeks warm. Rust-colored leaves dotted the corners of the chain-link fence and crunched under running sneakers.

Jungkook ran straight for the jungle gym, sneakers squeaking as he slid down the metal pole like a firefighter. He landed with a triumphant “Ta-da!” and turned, grinning wide when he saw her.

Y/N stood nearby, hugging her puffy red jacket close, watching him with a shy smile. She had a piece of bubblegum in her mouth and a Barbie band-aid on her left knee.

“You saw that, right?” Jungkook asked, bouncing in place. “I totally didn’t fall this time.”

“I saw,” she giggled, stepping closer. “You looked like a superhero.”

Jungkook puffed out his chest. “I am a superhero. Want me to save you from lava or something?”

Y/N grinned. “Only if the lava is pink.”

“That’s the worst kind,” he said seriously. “We’ll need snacks before we go.”

They made their way to the tire swing, spinning each other so fast that their laughs got tangled in the wind. At one point, Y/N stumbled off, dizzy, and landed in the grass.

Jungkook flopped down beside her, brushing dirt off his sleeves.

“Hey,” he said after a moment, poking her arm.

“What?”

“I like you.”

She blinked at him.

“Like a lot,” he added. “Like more than pizza.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s a lot.”

He nodded solemnly. “I think I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Her face went bright pink. She covered it with her mittened hands. “You can’t say that!”

“Why not?” Jungkook grinned. “You’re my favorite person.”

She peeked through her fingers. “Well... I guess I like you too. But I still like pizza.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “We can have pizza at the wedding.”

Y/N burst out laughing.

The teacher blew the whistle. Recess was over.

But as they lined up, side by side, Jungkook reached out and took her mittened hand in his.

Just for a second.

And neither of them let go too quickly.

═══════

The strange thing was, it never felt like now. It always felt like then. Like another time entirely. The clothes, the places, the colorful lights and blur of a different decade. When I was little, I thought maybe he was just in my imagination. My make-believe friend that night had brought to life. But as I aged, the dreams didn't fade. They grew sharper. Eventually, a bitter understanding settled inside of me: he was from the past.

And yet, knowing that didn’t make it any easier to let go.

I never stopped searching for his face. Even when I didn't realize it. My eyes would drift across train stations, cafés, bookstores, airports. Scanning crowds without meaning to. Not for anything in particular- just for him. That face I would know in an instant. That echo from my dreams that never left.

Maybe it was my mother’s stories that kept the hope alive. Maybe it was something older, something deep within me. But even in the moments when I told myself to stop believing in things I couldn’t explain, the never ending search continued.

And then one day, it happened.

Not in a dream. Not in memory.

In life.

═══════

Jungkook never believed in love.

Not because he didn’t want to. But because, in his world, love was nothing more than a hollow word people used when they had to. In his house, silence was more common than words, and cold glares were the constant norm.

His parents had never loved each other. At least, not in a way he ever saw. They moved around each other like strangers forced to share the same space. There were no soft touches. No laughter through the walls. No bedtime stories. No warm goodnights. Just clipped sentences, slammed doors, and the ever-present disdain beneath the surface.

And for him? Well, he was just existing. A fixture. An afterthought. Someone they were forced to provide for but never nurtured. No hugs or encouragement. Just expectations, rules, and dismissals that cut deeper than words ever could.

So when he would fall asleep and the dreams would happen, he hated them.

Every night, like clockwork, she would appear.

That same girl. That same face. Always glowing with a kind of warmth he couldn’t understand. Always smiling at him like he was someone worth loving. And the worst part? They were happy. Together. In love. He’d see them laughing, holding hands, growing together through many make-believe summers and cozy winters that didn’t belong in his world. He saw their first kiss. Their first time. The way she looked at him like she knew him more than he knew himself.

═══════

It was the Sadie Hawkins dance, and the lights had been dimmed just enough to feel like something important could happen—but not so dark that the chaperones couldn’t still see everything.

Y/N stood near the refreshment table, fidgeting with the hem of her pink dress, hands slightly clammy. Across the room, Jungkook was talking to his best friend, but he kept sneaking glances at her every few seconds, like his eyes had their own crush and weren’t good at hiding it.

She had asked him last week, stammering so badly that he hadn’t even answered at first. He just nodded really fast like a bobblehead, cheeks as red as a cherry slushie.

Now they were here. Together. At an actual dance. And it felt like the whole world had tilted just a little.

A slow song started playing.

Jungkook appeared at her side like a ghost in an ill-fitting button-down shirt.

“Wanna dance?” he mumbled, voice cracking a little at the end.

She smiled, heart pounding in her ears. “Okay.”

They moved to the middle of the floor, hands hovering before they finally found each other, his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulder. They swayed awkwardly. Off-beat. Too close, then too far. Her nose bumped his once.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” he whispered back, his smile crooked and nervous.

Their foreheads were nearly touching now. Everyone else had disappeared - their classmates, the disco ball, the terrible decorations made from crepe paper and glitter glue. It was just them. Two kids with too-big feelings and too-small words.

“I... um,” Jungkook started, blinking. “Can I... kiss you?”

Her eyes went wide. “Right now?”

He nodded, petrified.

She swallowed. “Okay.”

They both leaned in too fast and bumped noses again. She tilted her head the other way and Jungkook followed, and after a moment of complete, breathless chaos

Their lips meet.

It was clumsy. Quick. Barely there. But it was warm. And electric. And perfect in the weirdest, most middle-school kind of way.

Y/N pulled back, wide-eyed and stunned.

“Whoa,” she whispered.

Jungkook nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like... wow.”

She giggled, and he laughed too.

And for the rest of the night, they danced without saying much, just grinning like fools who’d discovered something the universe had been keeping secret just for them.

═══════

It was fucking infuriating.

He didn’t want to see her. He didn't want to want her. He didn’t want to wake up every morning with the ache of something lost. The dreams felt like a cruel joke. A taunt from the universe that seemed to mock him with everything he would never have, and worse, everything he didn’t deserve.

And still… she kept showing up. Always the same eyes. Always the same kindness. Never pushing, never judging. She was just simply there. A promise etched into his being. A truth he didn't ask for.

So he tried to ignore it and drown it out. Bury himself in a cold detachment, a trait he unfortunately inherited, in girls who didn’t remind him of her. He picked up habits that offered easy silence. Those became his comfort, his escape, his rebellion to the universe.

The drinking started as a way to sleep without dreams. The smoking was more about the waiting and something to do with his hands when the nights got too quiet. They numbed the edges of things, blurred out the longing, buried the ache beneath a haze he could control. He told himself the dreams meant nothing. She meant nothing. Just static in the brain. A side effect of loneliness and an overactive imagination.

But then he saw her.

He saw you. In real life.

In this life.

And all that anger, all that resentment, all those years of bitterness crumbled with just one look.

Because it was her.

The girl from the dreams.

The girl who’d haunted him in the corners of his mind, who he thought was nothing more than a fantasy.

And suddenly, he wasn’t angry anymore. He was infatuated . Completely undone in an instant. Not by what he remembered, but by what was standing right in front of him. Her, completely real, breathing, and even more beautiful than any dream he had ever captured.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to approach someone he’d loved and resented for so long. Someone he’d never met, yet somehow knew like a book he helped write.

He just knew the moment he saw you, the universe stopped joking.

═══════

A neon sign buzzed faintly in the window of Vinyl & Bean, the downtown café tucked between a record store and a flower shop, with Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” playing low through the jukebox. Outside, snow drifted in soft spirals, glossing across the sidewalks in a glistening coat of white that made the world feel hushed and still.

Jungkook sat at a booth in the far corner, bouncing his knee beneath the table, fingers tapping the lip of a paper cup. His leather jacket squeaked slightly as he adjusted in the seat. The café smelled like cinnamon, espresso, and old books. It felt like something out of a movie.

She walked in, hands shoved into pockets, laughing at something the barista said as she stepped through the door.

And just like that, everything else blurred out.

She wore a denim jacket patched with band logos, hair a little damp, cheeks pink from the cold. There were tiny snowflakes clinging to her lashes, and a glint in her eyes that knocked the air out of Jungkook’s lungs.

She saw him and lit up like she always did.

“Well, well,” she teased, approaching the booth. “You waited for me.”

Jungkook stood too fast, knocking his knee on the table, cursing under his breath. “Always,” he said, trying to play it cool and utterly failing. “You’re my favorite person to wait for.”

She laughed, sliding into the seat across from him. “That was dangerously charming.”

“Was it?” he grinned. “Good. I rehearsed that one.”

She rested her chin on her hands, looking at him like he hung the stars. “You’re nervous. You only rehearse lines when you’re nervous.”

“Not true. I also do it when I want to impress someone wildly out of my league.”

“Smooth,” she giggled. “So, what’s the occasion?”

He shrugged, then handed her a folded napkin. “Just wanted to spend the day with you. Also… I wrote you a poem.”

She blinked. “You wrote me a poem? Are you trying to kill me?”

“You’ll live. Barely.”

Unfolding it, she read aloud: ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you’

She groaned. “God, you're such a sap.”

Jungkook beamed. “And yet, here you are. Still dating the sap.”

She reached across the table, curling her fingers around his. “I’m dating you, Jungkook. The sap just makes it better.”

Outside, the rain kept time with the music inside, an old Prince song fading into Eurythmics, laughter buzzing through the café from a few tables over.

They talked for hours - remembering stupid inside jokes, debating the best love song of the decade (“It’s Endless Love,” she insisted, and he pretended to be horrified), and playing that game where they guessed what strangers were saying at other tables.

He watched her like she was a moment he didn’t want to blink through.

And the whole time, his hand in his jacket pocket fidgeted with the little velvet box.

Now, his heart whispered. Do it now.

But every time she laughed or looked at him with those soft, knowing eyes, the words tangled in his throat.

So he cleared it. Looked down. Looked back up.

“Hey,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

She tilted her head. “Sounds serious.”

“It is,” he said. “Kind of.”

She stares up at him, giving her full attention, wrapping her fingers around the mug for warmth. “I’m listening.”

Jungkook stood suddenly, heart pounding against his ribs like a drumline, and came around to kneel beside the booth. The whole café didn’t stop (this wasn’t a movie), but it sure felt like it did.

Her eyes widened. “Wait - what are you - ”

He opened the little box.

And there it was.

A ring. Delicate, gold, with a small round diamond in the center.

“I know it’s not the biggest ring and this isn’t the fanciest place. And I’m definitely sweating,” he laughed nervously. “But I’ve loved you since the first time you forgot my name at daycare. I’ve loved you through every mixtape, every late-night phone call, every time you made fun of my handwriting.”

He swallowed, eyes bright.

“I want every coffee with you. Every snowy day. Every slow dance in a parking lot after everyone else has gone home. I want this. I want you forever. So… will you please marry me?”

She just bursted out laughing. Not mocking, not dismissive. Just overwhelmed joy, bubbling out like a soda shaken too hard.

“Yes,” she breathed, nodding furiously. “Yes, yes, a million times yes.”

Jungkook blinked. “Wait, really??”

She pulled him up by the collar of his jacket and kissed him right there in the middle of the coffee shop, hands in his hair, the ring still in the box between them.

“Of course really,” she whispered. “You’re it for me.”

Jungkook kissed her like it was the first time all over again, grinning so hard he almost missed her slipping the ring on by herself.

He sat beside her after, heart still racing, holding her hand like it anchored him.

“You know,” she teased, “this better not be a dream.”

═══════

The scent of coffee beans drifted through the air, rich and comforting, clinging to the worn wooden beams of the café ceiling. It was a quiet Tuesday morning in Seoul.

It was cold enough that my breath was still visible as I stepped inside, a scarf wrapped around my neck and the directions on my phone still running. The city was still unfamiliar. Fast and loud - it made me feel alive in a way that was both thrilling and intimidating.

I took a tentative step toward the counter, the soft chime above the door echoing faintly throughout the shop. I really didn’t mean to find this place. But it was warm, and something tugged in my chest, telling me to go into the coffee shop tucked on a quieter street near the subway station.

That’s when I saw him.

Sitting at the far corner table, dark hair tousled, sleeves pushed up, showcasing tattoos I’d never seen before. A black coffee steaming in front of him.

It was him.

The boy from my dreams. From the night before.

He looked older here. Real. Less like the soft, loving film reel I’d been watching in my sleep for years and more like someone the universe had dragged across decades just to place here, in front of me, in flesh and blood.

My pulse skipped. My hands went cold. But I couldn’t look away.

═══════

From his corner, Jungkook lifted his eyes and felt something punch the air from his lungs. A girl stood near the door- eyes wide, lips parted slightly, cheeks pink from the winter chill- and for a moment he thought he was dreaming again. It was her. The girl. His girl. He blinked hard, trying to shake you loose from his imagination.

But she didn’t disappear.

You didn’t disappear.

Neither of us moved. The noise of the café faded into a soft hum, the way the dreams always dulled the background. It was just us now, and the heavy pounding of unspoken recognition.

I stepped forward slowly, with my heart in my throat.

Say something, don’t just stand there.

I felt like a kid again, all awkward limbs and restless thoughts, but the pull was too strong to ignore. My voice came out softer than I wanted.

“Hi,” I said, brushing her hair behind one ear. “Sorry, this is going to sound weird, but… you look really familiar.”

Jungkook stared at her, startled, heart hammering. The dream version of her had always spoken first. And the real version? She was right here. She was real.

He panicked.

“Yeah?” he muttered, already pulling his gaze away. “Don’t think I know you.”

His voice wasn’t cruel, but it was clipped. Cold. Defensive.

I blinked. “Oh. I - sorry. I just thought…”

I trailed off, cheeks going red again. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. He wasn’t the same person as the one in my dream.

I quickly turned, my stomach sinking as I reached for the door.

Then came the scrape of a chair behind me.

“Wait.”

I paused, hand on the door, but I didn’t turn around.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer, his voice softer now. “Sorry. That was… I’m not good at first impressions.”

I turned, eyes cautious. “You think?”

He gave a smirk. “Okay, I deserved that.”

I bit down on my lip, torn between annoyance and disbelief. “I was just trying to say hi. You looked familiar.”

“So did you,” he said quietly. “Too familiar.”

We stood there, the tension between them shifting- less sharp now, more curious.

“I’m Jungkook,” he said, giving a small bow before holding out his hand.

“Y/N,” I replied, copying the bow and placing my smaller hand in his. His grip was warm. Steady. Electrifying.

“You just moved here?” he asked.

I nodded. “That obvious? I’ve wanted to live in Seoul since I was a kid. Kind of surreal.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his eyes sweeping over me with more interest than he probably should’ve shown. “Dream city for a dream girl, huh?”

I laughed, caught off guard by the line and the sudden switch to flirtation. “Oh god, is that your idea of flirting?”

“It’s working, isn’t it?” he winked.

I shook my head, blush spreading up my neck. “Barely.”

“I know this is forward but, can I have your number?”

My brows lifted. “Why?”

“So I can text you bad puns and pretend it’s not an excuse to see you again, obviously.”

I smiled despite myself and handed my phone over. “Fine. But no attitude next time.”

He typed in his number, a giant toothy smile gracing his breathtaking face. “Promise.”

We parted with a lingering glance, both carrying a spark neither wanted to admit was fate.

I walked away feeling like the world had tilted just slightly into place. Mom’s stories whispering into my ear.

And for the first time in years, Jungkook didn’t feel like running from his past - he felt like chasing the future.

Something that had been waiting for both of them.

In dreams.

And now, finally, in reality.

═══════

Morning light spilled across the bed in warm, golden stripes, slipping between half-drawn blinds and brushing over tangled sheets, tousled hair, and two grinning faces buried in each other.

Y/N blinked awake to the soft weight of Jungkook’s arm across her waist, his thumb lazily drawing circles against her skin.

She turned slowly, still not quite believing the sparkle of the ring on her finger.

“You’re staring,” she whispered, finding him already awake, already smiling.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, voice husky with sleep. “I proposed to the prettiest girl on Earth last night. Kind of want to make sure it wasn’t a dream.”

She smiled, eyes fluttering. “If it was, we had the same one.”

Jungkook leaned in and kissed her. It was slow, lingering, the kind of kiss that tasted like shared futures and morning breath you didn’t care about. His hand slid to her hip, tugging her slightly closer.

She gasped quietly when he deepened the kiss, noses brushing, fingers finding bare skin beneath the covers.

“Hey,” she whispered, breath hitching. “You’re getting handsy.”

“I just got engaged,” he whispered back, lips grazing hers between words. “I earned it.”

She giggled, burying her face in his neck as he trailed kisses along her jaw.

“Slow down, Romeo,” she teased, pulling the blanket higher. “You already locked me in.”

“Just making sure you stay locked in,” he said with a wink.

And they stayed there just tangled in warmth, laughter, and love that felt like it had always been there.

═══════

The next morning, Seoul looked different.

I walked these same streets just yesterday, bundled in my coat, trying to memorize subway exits and the names of cafes, but now it all shimmered with a quiet kind of electricity.

Maybe it was the coffee still lingering in my system. Or maybe it was the number saved in my phone. Jungkook . It looked strange seeing his name there, not scrawled across the edges of sleep, but real.

I haven’t texted him yet.

Every time I tried, I’d just delete it, too nervous to say the wrong thing, too thrilled to ruin this spell. Because what if it wasn’t real? What if he forgot me already? What if I only imagined the way he smiled when he typed in his number?

I clutched my phone tighter in my pocket.

Meanwhile, across the city, Jungkook hadn’t stopped thinking about you.

He hadn’t smoked all morning, hadn’t even touched the bottle of soju his roommate left open on the counter. He didn’t know what the hell was happening to him, but something in his chest felt lighter. And heavier. All at once.

He tried to distract himself with dumb things. Scrolling through his feed, lifting weights, cleaning his place, but his mind kept circling back to you. Your soft laugh. The way your voice caught at the start of every sentence, like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to speak. The way you looked at him like you knew him, even when you shouldn’t have.

He finally grabbed his phone and stared at your name.

Y/N.

He almost didn’t send it. But then,

Jungkook: you like coffee or was that a one-time thing?

He hit send before he could overthink it, then threw the phone across the couch like it was on fire.

Your phone buzzed while you were inside a convenience store picking up ramen and instant rice. I froze. Then read it. Then reread it three more times.

My lips curled up before I even realized I was smiling.

Y/N: i like coffee. just not assholes who sit in corners of cafes ☺️.

I sent it before I could overthink it, then grabbed a snack that I didn’t even want just to keep my hands busy.

Back on the other side of the city, Jungkook read your reply and barked out a laugh. He liked that you had bite. He liked that you remembered. And fuck, he liked that you even replied.

Jungkook: let me try again? same café? 2pm?

Your fingers hovered over the keys. Then:

Y/N: you better be nice this time

Jungkook: no promises 😉

═══════

Before 2pm, I was already there. I sat at the corner booth, the same one he had occupied yesterday, my nerves buzzing under my skin like tv static. I wore something simple (nothing crazy like the girls in the dreams wore) but I felt more real, more alive, than I ever had before.

Jungkook walked in five minutes late. On purpose.

He spotted you instantly. And when your eyes met, that same undeniable electric current passed between you again.

He walked over, running a hand through his already tousled hair, doing his best to play it cool.

“You’re in my spot,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought we weren’t doing attitude today.”

“Right,” he smirked, sliding into the seat across from you. “Hi, again.”

“Hi,” you replied, softer this time.

You ordered coffees and chatted about safe topics - your new job, the weirdness of grocery stores here, the best street food in Seoul. He asked questions, teasing ones, and you answered with playful half-lies and awkward truths.

I never brought up the dreams. I kept them a secret. Like if I said them aloud, he would disappear.

But I didn’t have to.

It was in every glance. Every pause between sentences. In the way we already moved around each other like we’ve done this before.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing just a little. “So, Seoul… is it really your dream?”

“Since I was eight,” I nodded. “I used to beg my mom to let me study Korean. She thought I was insane.”

“Smart mom,” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “You asked for this conversation.”

“I did,” he said, his tone softer now. “And I’m glad I did.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Curious. Like the pause before a kiss.

Eventually, Jungkook leaned forward, voice lower. “So… can I get your number again?”

“You already have it.” I said while tilting my head.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “But I needed a reason to ask for a proper date.”

I flushed and glanced down, biting my bottom lip.

“Okay,” softly. “Ask.”

“Would you like to maybe… hang out again sometime that doesn’t involve caffeine and attitude?”

I laughed. “Sure. But I’m picking the spot next time.”

He held out his pinky. “Deal.”

I locked mine with his.

This wasn’t the beginning of something.

It was the continuation of something our hearts had already started, long before we ever met.

In another life. In another dream.

And finally, finally, in reality.

═══════

Later that night, I stood by my apartment window, staring out at the distant city lights.

Fingers brushing over my phone, hesitating above Jungkook’s name in my messages. I didn’t have a reason to text him. Not yet. But I kept replaying every second of the afternoon, the way he looked at me, the way he smiled like he was holding back laughter and fear at the same time. It was disarming.

And confusing.

He was both familiar and foreign. Pieces of him still echoed the version I’d grown up with in my dreams - like his bunny smile, the way he tilted his head when listening, or the gentleness behind his sarcasm - but the real-life version was rawer. Edgier. There was pain in his eyes he didn’t talk about, and I didn’t dare ask

I wanted to. God, I really fucking wanted to. But this wasn’t a dream. I didn’t know the rules here.

Across town, Jungkook sat on his bed with a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. The smoke curled toward the ceiling, joining the faint scent of old cologne and fabric softener. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you walked away from him earlier.

He was hooked.

He hated how fast it happened. How badly he already wanted to see you again. Not for lust. Not even out of curiosity.

He just missed you.

And that didn’t make sense.

You weren’t supposed to be real. You weren’t supposed to walk into his favorite café, all wide eyes and nervous smiles, looking like the answer to a question he hadn’t asked aloud.

He took another drag and exhaled slowly. His room was silent except for the hum of traffic from outside. He hadn’t told anyone about the dreams in awhile. But now you were here and that reality was breaking down every wall he’d spent years building.

He grabbed his phone and typed something. Deleted it. Typed again.

Jungkook: you got a favorite place in the city yet?

He hit send and laid back, staring at the ceiling.

Your reply came less than a minute later.

Y/N: my rooftop? does that count?

Jungkook: it counts. as long as i get to see it one day.

You hesitate.. Then type:

Y/N: you just might .

The words lingered between you, a silent promise neither was ready to define.

═══════

The next few days passed in a blur of texts and nervous anticipation. You didn’t meet in person again but talked constantly. Stupid jokes. Music links. Flirty texts that made you blush into your pillow and made him smirk like a schoolboy with a crush.

It was easy.

Too easy.

And that scared you

One night, as rain drummed softly against your windows, you curled up in bed and let your mind wander back to the old dreams. The ones set in vivid tones. The ones where Jungkook wore vintage jackets and danced with you at candlelit dinners. Where he kissed you on sidewalks under flickering neon signs and would whisper secrets like you had all the time in the world

He had been softer in those dreams. Safer. But maybe that was because dream-Jungkook didn’t have real scars.

This Jungkook, the one who smoked too much and apologized too little, wasn’t perfect.

But he was real.

And you’re starting to think that maybe… just maybe… that was better.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sat on the edge of his kitchen counter, finishing his third beer and flicking ash into a cracked ceramic dish. The apartment was too quiet. Too heavy with thought. And his phone buzzed again.

Y/N: do you ever feel like we’ve known each other longer than we have?

His heart kicked hard in his chest.

He stared at the message.

Typed:

Jungkook: all the time.

Deleted it.

Typed:

Jungkook: maybe we have.

He didn’t send that one either.

Instead, he turned off the screen and let the silence settle in around him.

Some things didn’t need to be said.

Not yet

Because this wasn’t a dream anymore.

This was the start of something terrifyingly, beautifully real.

═══════

The arcade buzzed with neon lights and synthy pop music, the air thick with the scent of popcorn, soda syrup, and adolescent adrenaline. Machines chirped and beeped, some blasting digitized explosions while others played victory jingles. Street Fighter II blared from the corner as kids huddled around it, cheering for pixelated punches.

Jungkook didn’t care about any of that. His attention was locked on one thing.

Y/N.

She stood in front of a claw machine, brow furrowed as she tried to snag a sad-looking plush dolphin trapped in the corner. Her tongue peeked out the side of her mouth in concentration, and Jungkook (leaning against the side of the machine) watched with an unrelenting smirk.

“You’re way too cute to be this competitive,” he teased, nudging her hip with his.

She elbowed him gently, not looking away. “If I get this thing, it’s going on our wedding cake.”

Jungkook leaned in close, his lips brushing just beneath her ear. “Then I hope it never comes out. I like watching you like this.”

She flushed instantly, eyes darting around to make sure no one was looking. “Jungkook,” she hissed, swatting at his arm. “We’re in public!”

“I know,” he said shamelessly, resting both hands on her waist and pulling her back against his chest. “You’re hot, we’re engaged, and I’m obsessed with you. Sue me.”

She wriggled free, barely holding in a laugh as she turned to face him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.” He grinned and took her hand, spinning her once like they were dancing on a hardwood floor instead of sticky arcade carpet.

Her laughter was soft, nervous, delighted.

He caught her against his chest again, this time kissing her cheek so exaggeratedly loud she squealed and pushed him away. “Stop!”

“No.”

“People are watching,” she whispered.

“I don’t care. Let them stare,” he said, eyes locked on hers, voice dropping low. “You’re mine.”

Her heart stuttered. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re marrying me.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, I’ll remind you,” he murmured, nuzzling into her neck. “Every hour. Every minute. Every second. Especially in public.”

She shoved him away again, cheeks blazing. “Play something. Go shoot aliens or save a princess or whatever.”

Jungkook gave her one last dramatic kiss on the hand before winking. “I’ll win you a prize.”

“You already did.”

He stopped, grinning like a fool. “God, I love you.”

And before she could hide her smile, he was off, coins in hand, yelling, “THIS ONE’S FOR YOU, BABE!” while running toward Time Crisis like a man on a mission.

She stood there, arms crossed, heart racing.

Totally his.

═══════

By the end of the week, you had memorized Jungkook’s texting habits.

He was dry in the morning, playful by late afternoon, and strangely sentimental around midnight. He sent voice notes when he was too lazy to type, used emojis constantly, and had a habit of ghosting for hours only to come back with something stupidly charming like “miss me?”

You had never smiled at your phone so much in your life.

And yet, you were terrified.

Because the closer you felt to him, the more you feared you were leaning into something one-sided. What if he was just like this with everyone? What if I was just a novelty, a foreign girl with big eyes and a soft laugh, here for a brief chapter in his much bigger story?

But still, I answered. Every time.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was battling his own storm of questions. He’d never wanted to know someone this fast. It made him restless, made him drink more, smoke more, then feel guilty for doing both. You had a calm to you that made his walls feel too high, too sharp. He wanted to tell you everything. And yet, he couldn’t tell you anything.

Not the truth. Not about the dreams. Not about why it scared him so much to see you in real life.

Still, he wanted to see you again. In person. He wanted to know what your voice sounded like when you weren't typing behind a screen.

Jungkook: friday. movie? there’s a rooftop one in hongdae. i’ll bring snacks.

Her reply came within seconds.

Y/N: only if you don’t bring attitude .

Jungkook: debatable.

═══════

Friday came too quickly.

You had spent way too long picking an outfit. You kept it simple - black jeans, white tee, oversized denim jacket - but somehow it felt like a costume. Like you were dressing for the version of him that lived in your dreams.

When you arrived, he was already there, leaning against the wall like he’d walked out of a magazine cover, a bag of snacks dangling from his hand and a smug grin on his face.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I’m three minutes early.”

“Exactly. I’ve been waiting.”

You rolled your eyes and followed him up the steps to the rooftop, where a projector flickered against a white brick wall and the city hummed beneath you.

You found seats in the back, away from the crowd. Close. Too close.

Jungkook offered you a pack of sour gummies.

“Peace offering.”

You took it, smirking. “You’re forgiven. For now.”

You didn’t watch the movie. Well, not really.

You whispered throughout, your voices low and tangled in laughter.

He told you about his worst date ever: some girl who brought her ex to the restaurant by mistake. And you told him about your first week in Korea, how you accidentally thanked a store clerk by calling him your brother.

“I panicked!” I said, laughing into my hands.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

I looked at him, smile fading slightly.

“You really think so?”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and sure. “I think you’re beautiful. Even when you call people your brother.”

I blushed, looking away.

And in that moment, he realized something dangerous- he was falling for you.

Hard.

He tried to pull back. Tried to play it cool. But your hand was resting just close enough that his fingers ached to touch yours. So he did. Lightly. Testing.

You didn’t move.

Your hands stayed there, quietly touching, while the movie played on.

And for a few stolen moments, everything felt perfect.

But deep down, Jungkook’s chest still carried a quiet warning. A whisper from the dreams that always ended in goodbye.

Still, he held your hand.

Still, you let him.

Neither of you said what you were thinking.

But both of us felt it.

This wasn’t just attraction.

It wasn’t even just fate.

It was something older.

Something deeper.

And it terrified them both.

═══════

The wind outside whispered through the trees, stirring the last golden leaves loose.

Fall had settled over the city like a thick, cozy blanket. Inside their apartment, the glow of candles flickered against the walls, casting shadows that danced with the soft, rhythmic hum of the heater. The TV played faintly- an episode of The Wonder Years flashing across the screen like a memory too old to belong to them but too familiar not to feel.

Y/N was nestled between Jungkook’s thighs on the couch, her back pressed to his chest, the two of them cocooned under a heavy throw blanket. Her socks were mismatched. His hands were tucked beneath the blanket, warm and resting low on her stomach, his thumbs brushing soft circles across the cotton of her shirt.

“You know,” he murmured near her ear, “for someone who claims to hate cheesy shows, you’ve been totally quiet for twenty minutes.”

“I’m studying,” she said, eyes still on the screen.

“Studying what? Kevin Arnold’s tragic boyhood?”

“I’m studying your taste in TV.”

Jungkook laughed, his voice deep and warm, the sound sending a ripple of heat across her skin. “Dangerous subject,” he murmured. “You might fall for me all over again.”

She tilted her head slightly to glance at him. “You think I ever stopped?”

His gaze dropped to her lips. “Not for a second.”

Something shifted in the air then- not awkward, but charged. The space between them was nothing, and somehow that made it everything. Her body was molded to his, hips resting snug against his, the kind of closeness where even breathing felt deliberate.

“Careful,” she said lightly. “You’re being smooth.”

“I’m always smooth.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re chaotic at best.”

“And yet…” He leaned in a little, brushing his nose along the shell of her ear. “You keep coming back.

She didn’t answer, but her breath caught just enough for him to notice. His smirk widened.

Outside, wind rattled the windows slightly. A few branches tapped against the pane, but the real storm was happening on the couch- quiet, warm, and buzzing with tension.

“You cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

He slid one hand under her shirt, fingertips grazing her bare stomach. “Better?”

She stiffened slightly, but not because she wanted him to stop. “Your hands are freezing.”

“Liar,” he murmured, lips ghosting against the curve of her neck now. “You just got goosebumps.”

She tried to wriggle away, but it was no use as he tightened his arms around her playfully, pulling her back flush against him.

“You’re terrible,” she whispered.

“You love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

“Babe,” he drawled, the word like a slow grin. “You’re literally in my lap. With my hand under your shirt.”

“That was your doing,” she argued, barely breathing.

He chuckled again, slow and low. “You didn’t exactly protest.”

His fingers were still light on her skin, not moving much, just enough to be noticed. Every now and then he’d sweep a thumb just above her navel, barely there, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. But they both knew he was.

The episode on TV faded into the next one. Neither of them noticed.

She shifted slightly, trying to regain some sense of composure but her movement just ground her hips deeper against his, and then she noticed. Jungkook stilled behind her, then exhaled through his nose sharply.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she murmured, cheeks flushed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice suddenly rougher, quieter. “You feel what you’re doing to me?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The weight of his words landed heavy and electric, her breath hitching as his hands finally did move, traveling slowly up her ribs to just beneath her bra, then back down again, teasing but never crossing the line, but standing right at the edge of it.

“You gonna keep teasing me like this?” he asked.

She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes. His gaze was dark, heated, but his lips still wore that maddening smirk.

“I think you’re the one doing the teasing.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jungkook said, shifting just slightly behind her. “If I were teasing, you'd be trembling.”

She was, a little.

He pressed a kiss to her neck - soft, deliberate, lips lingering.

She gasped.

And then he stopped.

Pulled back.

Just a breath’s distance.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice now light again, smug. “It’s still fall. Gotta save something for winter.”

She whined in frustration, smacking his thigh without heat. “I hate you.”

“You adore me,” he corrected, wrapping his arms tighter around her. “Also, you make this adorable little sound when I kiss your neck. It’s like a hiccup and a sigh.”

“Jungkook.”

“Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“My name. You always sound like you’re mad when you say it, but it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Jungkook.”

He groaned softly. “There it is.”

“You’re actually insane.”

“You’re literally blushing through a flannel right now.”

She grabbed a pillow and shoved it backward towards his face, but he dodged, laughing.

“C’mere,” he said, turning her slightly so she was straddling his lap, the blanket slipping down pooling at their sides. His hands slid to her hips, warm and confident. “Let me look at you.”

Her heart pounded as she steadied herself against his chest. His eyes were soft now but still dark, still heavy with the energy hanging thick between them.

“You look like a dream,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Like something I’d remember if I woke up too soon.”

“You can’t say things like that,” she whispered, barely holding eye contact.

“But I mean them.”

He let his thumb graze her jaw. “And you like it.”

“I hate how much I like it,” she admitted.

“Good,” he murmured. “I want you to hate it. I want it to wreck you.”

The room was too quiet. Too warm. Too close.

She leaned in a little. Just enough to feel his breath against her lips.

His voice was barely audible now. “You gonna kiss me?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he teased, raising a brow. “You’re sitting in my lap.”

“You said we’re saving things for winter,” she whispered, breathless.

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re cruel.”

She smiled. “You love it.”

“God, I really do.”

The moment hovered, their lips close enough to share a secret, but neither one moving quite yet like if they kissed, it’d break something open they wouldn’t be able to close again.

“I want you,” he said softly, finally. “Not just tonight. Every damn day.”

She pressed her forehead to his, eyes fluttering shut.

“You have me,” she whispered. “You always do.”

You didn’t need to kiss after that.

Because the tension, the pull between you, was the kiss.

═══════

♡ next

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 05/11/2025

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook #bts ffs #bts ff #bts #jkwrites m #another time m

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luvvrgl · 1 month ago

Text

Magically Attached (Please Help)

Pairing: Dante x GN!Reader

Summary: You are a grumpy apothecary who hates loud, flashy hunters like Dante—until he becomes your most frequent (and irritating) customer, constantly busting through your door with injuries.

Authors Notes: This is my first attempt writing, so please bear with me 💔 Please give me some tips and feel free to give some criticism

The apothecary preferred silence. The kind that hummed between glass bottles and bloomed in the scent of crushed sage. So when the front door slammed open with all the grace of a hurricane—nearly snapping off for the third time that week—and a bleeding man staggered in with a shit-eating grin, you were tempted to throw an entire jar of ghost pepper salve at him.

“You again,” you spoke up flatly, not bothering to look up to see who just came in. You already knew who it was with how they opened the damn door.

“Miss me?” Said the injured devil hunter, Dante. His voice rang out through the room, sounding far too casual for someone whose arm was currently bleeding.

You looked up from the potion you were working on, eyes slightly narrowing as your gaze landed on Dante. “That’s the fourth door this week, and I just reinforced it. You owe me a new hinge.”

Dante swaggered in, leaving muddy boot prints all over the carefully swept floor. “I’ll add it to my tab.”

You held your tongue when you saw Dante leave foot prints on the floor that you had just cleaned minutes ago. “You mean the one you haven’t paid in three months?”

He grinned. “That’s the one.”

With a sigh, you motioned him to sit on the exam stool—well, it was originally meant for calm tea-sipping clients, not devil hunters bleeding onto the rug..but this was your life now.

You watched as Dante settled onto the stool with a wince as he dramatically groaned, shrugging his tattered coat off and letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. You winced as the dirty fabric hit the floorboards, unfortunately giving you more to clean up later.

“Bleeding on the rug and shredding like a stray mutt.. You’re really out to test me these days, aren’t you?”

Dante leaned back as he casually rested one boot on the edge of your carefully organized desk with arranged healing salves and herbs, earning a silent death glare from you.

“Come on, Doc.. Don’t act like you never miss me when I’m gone. I bet this place gets real boring without me.

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed a rag and tossed it at Dante’s head, “I make sure to cherish every moment of silence when you’re not here to visit.”

Dante swiftly caught the rag before it could hit his head and pressed the fabric over his wound, letting out a small chuckle at your words. You watched as the white rag got stained red with the hunter’s blood before you went to get some medicine to heal his wounds.

You put on some latex gloves before you walked over to the cabinet from across the room, carefully grabbing a vial there with some sort of magic purple liquid in it. You went to go behind your desk and grab some moonflower dust from the drawer beneath there, sprinkling some of that into the vial.

You then came over to Dante who was still wiping his blood off him and held your hand out. “Give me your arm.”

Dante blinked at you for a moment before he held out his uninjured arm.

“Other arm.”

His lips formed into a small “O” in realization before he held out his injured arm.

Your grip on Dante’s wrist was gentle but firm as you put the vial down onto the table and inspected the wound, “You know, if you didn’t leap face-first into every demon that blinked at you funny, you might actually stay in one piece.”

Dante winced as you prodded at his arm, smirk slightly faltering. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You raised an eyebrow as you reached for the vial. “You call this fun?”

Dante winked, “I call you fun.”

You poured the liquid from the vial into the wound with no warning as you glared down at him.

“Ack— You damn sadist!” Dante hissed, though there was no clear hate in his tone.

“Brat.” You murmured, more to yourself..

The potion fizzed on contact with Dante’s wound, glowing faintly with violet light. It smelled faintly of crushed herbs and something sweet, like sugar. You didn’t flinch at the sound of his pained groan, continuing to pour the liquid onto the wound until the vial was empty.

“You know,” Dante muttered through clenched teeth, “normal doctors use bandages.”

“I am not a doctor,” you replied dryly. “Now stop squirming or I’ll pour some more straight into your mouth.”

Dante dramatically sighed at your words, head falling back as if you had just stabbed him. “You wound me, Y/N. More than a demon does, honestly.”

You rolled your eyes again—it was starting to feel like they’d fall out of your skull if Dante kept this up. “Then maybe next time I’ll just let you bleed out in the alley.”

“Now that’s the grumpy bastard I know and love.” Dante smirked.

You paused, just for a second, before brushing it off like a speck of dust on your apron. “You’re lucky I have a professional obligation to keep you alive..”

“Ah, so it’s just business, then?”

You stayed quiet as usual. You just wrapped a bandage around Dante’s arm a bit too snugly for comfort.

“Ah, there’s the affection.” Dante said as he flexed his fingers. “Tight wrap. You trying to cut my arm off or get me to stay longer?”

“Neither. I’m trying to keep you from bleeding all over my floorboards.”

Dante settled back against the stool as if he owned it. “Y’know, I come here for the customer service.”

“And I keep wondering why you don’t stay dead.” You muttered.

“Maybe I like the company.” Dante spoke, his voice quieter now. Still teasing, but the edges had dulled.

You stepped back, peeling your gloves off. “There. Don’t use that arm for the next two days. Which means no fights, no lifting anything heavy, and absolutely no breaking down any more of my doors.”

“Awh, come on! I just got invited to a big nest-clearing near the city walls. Easy job. Two hours tops.”

You shot him a look sharp enough to curdle blood.

“Okay, okay. No fighting. Just resting.. got it.” Dante said, reaching for his coat, wincing a bit.

“You’re pushing harder than usual.” You suddenly spoke up.

Dante raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, pretending not to understand. “Demons don’t kill themselves, Y/N.”

You paused, not looking up just yet. “They don’t need to. Not when you’re this damn determined to do their job for them.”

For once, Dante didn’t have a snappy comeback.

Silence lingered between them, rare and strangely heavy.

You walked over to a small wooden shelf in the corner. You grabbed a small glass jar with blue powder inside and returned to Dante’s side, unscrewing the lid carefully.

“This will numb the pain and speed up the healing,” you explained, more quietly this time. “It’ll sting like hell for a second.”

“Already stinging, Doc.”

“Not a doctor.” You muttered again, then gently smeared the powder across the wound. A sizzling hiss filled the air, followed by Dante swearing under his breath.

“Yup. Definitely a sadist.”

“Keep talking and I’ll stitch your loudmouth shut with your shoelaces.”

Dante let out a breathless laugh, the tension in his frame easing slightly. “Bet you say that to all your favorite patients.”

“I say that to all the idiots who won’t stop wrecking my door every damn week and staining my floorboards with their blood everyday.” You corrected.

A beat passed.

“Same thing,” Dante said with a half smile, watching you work. “You just don’t wanna admit that you’d miss me if I just suddenly stopped showing up one day.”

You didn’t look at him, sprinkling the last of the powder onto the wound.

“Maybe I would,” you said softly. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Dante blinked.

Then you stood up straight and turned away swiftly, already reaching for your broom to deal with the mess Dante made on the floor. “Now get off my stool before you bleed on something else. And fix the damn door on your way out.”

“..Sure thing, Y/N.” Dante said, a little more quietly this time, his eyes lingering on your back before he slowly pushed himself up.

Dante paused at the threshold of the store, stopping in the middle of the doorway, watching you clean up the remains of yet another chaotic visit. The broom swished rhythmically against the wood, as if you were trying to sweep him out too, like he was some persistent pest who kept bothering you.

“Y’know,” Dante leaned against the doorframe, “for someone who pretends to hate me, you patch me up with a lot of care.”

You didn’t even look up. “That’s because if you die in here, I’ll have to clean that mess too.”

Dante smirked. “You sure it’s not because you like me?”

You paused at the hunter’s words, stopping your sweeping.

You stood there for a moment, broom in one hand, gaze stuck on a spot on the floor like it held the secrets of the universe. Then, very slowly, you looked up until your gaze landed on Dante.

“I like quiet.” You slowly spoke, “I like organized shelves. I like not getting half of my store covered with some guy’s blood mixed with chunks of demon ichor.”

You set the broom aside.

“But..” You crossed your arms and leaned against the counter, tilting your head at Dante, “I don’t hate the way this place doesn’t feel… dead anymore.”

Dante blinked.

“Not dead, huh?”

You shrugged, eyes narrowing just slightly. “It used to be quiet because no one really came in everyday, until you came..”

Dante blinked yet again, watching you like he wasn’t sure if he really heard that last line or if he had imagined it. You, as usual, didn’t wait for him to catch up, you just turned back towards the cabinet, rummaging through a drawer for something as glass and wood gently clattered against each other.

“What about now?” Dante prompted, stepping in again, a hint of curiosity in his usual smirk.

“Now it’s quiet between the noise,” You muttered. You pulled out a wrapped bundle of dried herbs and set them down on the counter, keeping your back turned. “That’s different.”

Dante folded his arms, his teasing grin widening. “Y/N…is that your poetic way of saying you enjoy my company?”

“It’s my very restrained way of saying I’ve gotten used to your stupid face showing up at random times,” You muttered, gently biting your tongue before you spoke any further. There wasn’t any heat in your voice—just that tired fondness that slipped in when you forgot to watch your tone.

Dante chuckled, taking another step inside and letting the door creak shut behind him, gentle this time. “Careful, Y/N. If you get any softer, I might actually think you care.”

You turned around to finally face Dante, gave him a deadpan stare, and shoved a small paper pouch into his chest. “Here, this will help for the fever you’re definitely going to pretend you don’t have in about two hours.”

Dante blinked in surprise.

“Boil them in water. Drink it. Go sleep, maybe somewhere that isn’t my shop.”

Dante looked down at the pouch in surprise, then back up at you. “..You made this already, didn’t you?” His smirk grew.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Of course I did. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re about to be a stubborn idiot.”

Dante held the pouch against his chest like it was something rare and unobtainable. Maybe it was.

“Y/N,” his voice was quieter now, “you’re kind of a miracle, you know that?”

Your mouth stayed shut.

But the tips of your ears turned the faintest shade of red as you grabbed your broom again and muttered, “Get out of my shop, Dante.”

“You’ll miss me tomorrow.”

“I’ll miss the peace.”

Dante opened the door carefully this time, leaning against the frame before leaving. “Try not to miss me too much, Y/N.”

You huffed and turned back to the counter. “Don’t make me to lock you out next time.”

“Like that would stop me.”

You muttered something unintelligible under your breath—but waited until the door shut (gently, for once) before you allowed the faintest smile to pull at your lips.

“Idiot..” you murmured,

“Don’t die out there.”

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante sparda #dmc dante x you #dante x reader #dante x you #dmc dante x reader #fluff #a oneshot probably??

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taesansbeloved · 7 months ago

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DO YOU TRUST ME? (엔하이펜)

synopsis: when you ask if you could have their phone. warnings 🚨 tooth rotting fluff, kissing, skinship, pet names, and all that cheesy relationship stuff. not proofread 👍🏻

(Hyung line)

a/n HIHI. so this is my first enhypen post and I wholeheartedly hope you enjoy it ;) maknae line here

Heeseung (희승)

"hey, baby." you announced as you walked into the living room where Heeseung is resting his on the couch, manspreading and scrolling on his phone mindlessly. "hi, gorgeous." he smiled up at you fondly before returning his attention back to the phone. "can I have your phone?" you asked with a small, innocent smile. Heeseung paused his scrolling and look up at you with a smile playing on his lips. "Ofcourse you can, darling. can I ask why though?" He asked as he placed his phone on your open palm. "no reason, just curious." you said as you unlocked it and sat beside him. "I'm sure you've noticed that my phone is strictly you themed." He whispered in your ear as he watched you open his gallery and scrolll through the endless pictures of you. "You love me." you tease, turning your head to face him, surprised by the closeness. "That I very much do." He whispered as he leaned in, connecting his soft lips on yours while sliding his arms around your waist.

Jay (정승)

you were in the kitchen, watching your, handsome as hell, boyfriend who is sat on the couch with his laptop on his lap, doing some serious work by the way his brows are furrowed. you remembered that tiktok video you saw earlier that day and decided to try it out. you walk up behind his and slide your arms around his shoulder. his brows ease as he melts into your touch. "hi, dear." he said softly, looking at you with gentle eyes. "hi, love. can I ask you a weird and random question?" you ask with a cheeky smile as he narrows his eyes at you while nodding. "can I have your phone for a second?". He nods as he hands you his phone. "the password is 7782." He said, pecking your temple before returning back to his work. "that easily?" you questioned as Jay looks back at you with a gentle, soft smile. "baby, I have nothing to hide. plus, I trust you and I know that you trust me... oh and please be quick with my phone, jake said he'll call earlier." he said simply as if he just didn't make your heart leap out of your chest.

Jake (제이크)

jake was laying in bed with you cuddled to his side, head on his chest. then suddenly you remember that tiktok you saw the other day of a girl asking her boyfriend for his phone as a test of trust. you rested your chin on his chest and looked up at him with innocent eyes. "what do you want, sweet girl?" he asked, very familiar with those eyes of yours. "can I have your phone for a sec?" You asked, attempting your best nonchalant voice. jake raised one eyebrow at you and looked at you suspiciously. "I don't mind but why though?" he asked as he reached for his phone that was charging on the nightstand. "I don't actually need it, baby. I was just testing you." you chuckled as you pecked his neck. "testing me? why? don't you trust me?" He asked, faking sad puppy eyes. you felt a surge of panic go through you. you hastily sat up and put your hands on his chest, "no, baby. it was just a funny joke. ofcourse I trust you." you said leaning down to peck him all over the face. "sweetheart, I know." he chuckled as he held your face infront of his, giving you a soft kiss. "I know you trust me and I very much know and belive that I trust you with all my heart." he whispered as he held you closely.

Sunghoon (성훈)

Sunghoon glanced at you suspiciously when he saw you lurking in the doorway of your shared room. "baby, standing there isn't gonna do you any good. just tell me what you want." he said with a soft smile, loving your little random acts. "can I have your phone for a second?" you asked as you looked at him with hopeful eyes. "I don't see why not." he said, getting up from his place on the bed with his phone in his hand. "here, baby" he said, handing the phone to you before turning away. "wait. aren't you gonna ask why?" you asked, confused as to why he was so chill. the tiktok you saw had the man interrogating his girlfriend. "baby, we've been together for long enough to know that we hide nothing from eachother." he said nonchalantly. your eyes softened as you ran over to him and strangled him on the bed. "I love you." You said while peppering his face with endless kisses. "all this for my phone?" he asked, very much enjoying this. "I love you too, gorgeous." he said giggling under your touch.

Do not copy this post. Spam likes = blocked. Spaming and plagiarism are not tolerated. Respectfully follow these rules :)

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letsgetrowdy43 · 2 months ago

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All in (Rowan’s Version)—

Quinn Hughes x Daphne Channing

Warnings: Really nothing bad, a little suggestive writing, but no explicit scenes!! Some mentions of drinking/being drunk, and a bit of swearing!

Notes: loosely based on the song “All in” by The Army The Navy!! Quinn is not the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up (jk… but he is serving father in this). The fic is abt 13k words and is poorly edited, so do not judge!!

Quinn shifted nervously in his chair, glancing around the cozy atmosphere of the restaurant Brock and Bella had chosen for his blind date.

The place had a warm hum to it — soft music, candles flickering, quiet conversations, and the occasional loud pop of champagne bottles as couples around him celebrated their love.

He checked his phone for the third time; whoever his date was was five minutes late, and now he wondered if Brock had set him up for disaster or a pleasant surprise.

"Quinn?" a soft voice asked as he felt a hand tap his shoulder.

He looked up to see her standing there.

Daphne.

She had tight dark curls framing her face and a warm, slightly hesitant smile. Quinn stood immediately, smoothing his dress shirt, and extended his hand.

"That’s me. You must be Daphne." "I am," she said with a little nervous laugh, shaking his hand as she squeezed it very gently. "Sorry, I’m late. My cab was late, and traffic was brutal." "No worries," he said, pulling her chair out for her. "We're in no rush"

They settled in as quickly as they were introduced, the conversation flowing easily as she sipped on a glass of wine to cut the anxiety bubbling in her throat.

A blind date was honestly so out of her comfort zone.

When Bella, her close family friend, approached her and said her boyfriend had a guy he wanted to set her up with, she was very apprehensive.

Relationships had been a gray area for a little over three years, and there was very little that could change that guardness she had built around her life.

Daphne toyed with the stem of her glass, watching the candlelight flicker across the table before she looked up and admired Quinn's awkward gaze. He looked equally as nervous as her but in a composed way, not to mention he was very handsome in an unexplainable way.

"So… Brock tells me you’re the captain of the Canucks?" she asked, her voice light but curious. Quinn chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I am! But it's pretty easy stuff when I have great guys in the locker room like Brock." "Still, that's some heavy stuff, and it's probably been your dream since you were a child. I've always admired people who make a living doing what they love."

Quinn looked up from his glass of water to see her shy smile, blush rising up her cheeks as he smiled warm-heartedly

"Appreciate that," Quinn said, smiling. "What about you?" "I’m a teacher. Fourth grade."

"Brave soul,” she noted his nervous tick of speaking in few words as she smiled at the comment. She laughed softly. "Some days more than others."

The conversation unfolded naturally, with stories about odd road trips and classroom shenanigans keeping the mood light.

Quinn found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't in a while, drawn in by the way Daphne’s nose scrunched up when she laughed and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her students.

She was funny, with a dry wit that kept him on his toes, and she had this habit of tucking her hair behind her ear when she got excited about a topic.

Quinn found himself leaning in as if he was on the edge of his seat, genuinely loving each sentence that rolled off of her tongue.

Then, somewhere between their shared distaste for psych professors from their university days and her story about accidentally adopting a cat in her senior year, Daphne hesitated.

The way a uncomfortable look spread across her face made Quinns heart nearly leap out of his chest to try and fix it for her.

"Okay, so..." She took a deep breath, fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass. "There’s something I should probably tell you before I allow this to go to far and get either of our hopes up."

Quinn raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" He took a sip of his water, half expecting her to crack a joke.

"I have a son," she said softly, eyes flickering up to meet his as she watched the way his face remained freakishly stoic.

"His name's Logan. He’s almost four. I know that might be... a lot. And I get it if that's a dealbreaker or whatever."

Quinn blinked. "Oh."

Daphne bit her lip as she deflated a little in her seat. "Yeah. Sorry. I should’ve mentioned it earlier, or gotten Bella to tell Brock to give you a heads up, but I just... didn’t know how to bring it up."

He set his cup down and shrugged. "It's honestly really cool, admirable even."

She frowned. "Cool?"

"Yeah. I mean, kids are awesome. Plus, anyone who can juggle parenting and still show up looking this put-together and beautiful as you do right now deserves some serious respect."

Her eyes widened, a laugh escaping her. "You’re either very smooth or very weird." "Why not both?" he teased, grinning.

"What I mean to say is that I’m not… scared off or anything," Quinn continued, his tone softening. "I get that having a kid is a big part of your life, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m really enjoying getting to know you."

Daphne studied him, her brows furrowing as she gave Quinn an analytical eye. "You say that now, but most guys don’t stick around once they realize it’s not just dinner dates and weekend getaways. There’s responsibility. Priorities."

Quinn shrugged. "I get it. Life's messy — everyone’s juggling something. Yours just happens to involve a tiny human who probably thinks you’re a superhero."

That caught her off guard.

She blinked, a soft laugh slipping past her lips. "Superhero might be a stretch. Logan thinks I’m a pretty decent storyteller and a pretty great pancake chef. That’s about as high as I rank."

"Hey, storytelling and pancakes? That’s elite-tier parenting, if you ask me." He grinned, leaning on the table. "Besides, I’m not here expecting anything. I’m just… here. With you. And so far, I’d say that’s a pretty great place to be."

Daphne stared at him for a long moment, her guard softening as her lips twitched into a smile. "You’re really not what I expected." "Good surprise or bad surprise?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow. She smiled genuinely as her hand moved to hold his over the table. "Definitely the good kind."

The little slapping of feet across the floor caused Daph to stir in her sleep. Her nose scrunched up and her hands ran over her face as she felt the tug of her duvet by little hands. Her son, Logan, pulled gently at the softness of her blanket trying to crawl into his mother's bed.

She rolled over, a tired smile on her face as she saw the mess of curls atop his head. "Good morning baby," she yawned as she leaned down to pick him up and snuggle him to her chest.

her lips pressed a warm kiss to his forehead, inhaling the familiar scent of his oatmeal-scented shampoo. He giggled softly, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of her sleep shirt as he nuzzled into her warmth.

"Morning mama," he said tiredly as he leaned into her frame.

Daph ran her fingers through his wild curls, smoothing them down absentmindedly. “Did you have sweet dreams?” she asked, her voice hushed in the early morning stillness as she swayed gently and held him to her chest. Logan nodded against her skin. “Dreamed about pancakes.” He grinned against her skin before pulling back slightly, his big, sleepy eyes blinking up at her, "with extra syrup.”

Daph chuckled, shifting to sit up against the headboard, still cradling him close. “Oh yeah? Think we should make some?” Logan gasped, his morning drowsiness disappearing in an instant. “Yes! With strawberries?” “And whipped cream,” Daph added with a raised brow, booping his nose as giggles erupted.

His face lit up in excitement, and he clapped his tiny hands. “Best day ever!” Daph laughed, stretching her arms before scooping him up and swinging her legs over the bed. “Alright, chef. Let’s go make some magic in the kitchen.”

Logan wiggled in her arms, full of energy now, and she carried him down the hall, the promise of a cozy morning wrapped in warmth, laughter, and pancakes filling the air.

The staffroom buzzed with its usual early morning chaos — coffee machines sputtering, teachers chatting over half-eaten bagels, and the distant sound of kids shrieking on the playground. Daphne sat at the corner table, cradling her mug of tea like a lifeline, when Marissa slid into the seat across from her, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Okay," Marissa said, leaning in dramatically. "Spill. How was the blind date?"

Daphne huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "You’re worse than my mother." "Don’t dodge! Brock's been hyping this guy up for weeks, and I need details. Was he a weirdo? Did he try to mansplain wine pairings?"

"Actually…"

Daphne bit her lip, her face softening into a small smile as she remembered the end of their night. Quinn driving her home. Giving her his number and saying that he would love to see her again if she wanted to. The look in his eyes that screamed he wanted to kiss her, but was respecting her boundaries. He was just so dreamy and so respectful.

"It was really nice."

Marissa gasped. "Wait, really?" "Yeah." Daphne stirred her tea, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks. "His name’s Quinn. He’s also on the team. Super laid-back. Funny, too."

Marissa raised an eyebrow. "Okay, okay. Promising. And? Did he freak out when you dropped the Logan bomb?" "That’s the thing." Daphne set her spoon down, her expression turning almost bewildered. "He didn’t freak out. He was just… cool about it. Said kids are awesome and that juggling parenting and showing up to a date looking 'put-together and beautiful' deserved respect."

Marissa clutched her chest dramatically. "Stop. He did not."

"He did." Daphne laughed, shaking her head. "I thought he was joking at first. But he meant it. He just rolled with it like it wasn’t a big deal."

Marissa stared at her for a moment, then slowly broke into a grin. "Okay, I’m officially intrigued. Did you kiss him?" "Marissa!" Daphne nearly choked on her tea. "It was a first date!" "So? First dates can have kisses. Was there a vibe?"

Daphne hesitated, biting back a smile. "Maybe."

Marissa squealed, practically vibrating in her chair. "You have to see him again."

Daphne laughed, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. "Yeah… we already have plans for next time he's in town."

As Daphne finished washing Logan's lunch Tupperware, her phone buzzed on the counter. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she picked it up, smiling when she saw Quinn’s name on the screen.

“Hey, you,” she answered, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she poured Logan some juice to go with his afternoon snack. “Hey,” Quinn’s voice was warm, smooth. “I was wondering if you’d want to go out again soon. Maybe dinner this weekend?”

Daphne bit her lip, glancing at Logan, who was happily munching on his crackers and cheese, blissfully unaware of the way his mother's face was broken out in a blushing mess. “I’d love to,” she said, “but my babysitter is out of town for a while. Timing’s just tricky right now.”

“Oh.” Quinn hesitated for a second. “What if we did lunch instead? More casual, and you wouldn’t need a sitter.”

Daphne’s stomach twisted slightly.

She liked Quinn—a lot—but she wasn’t sure she was ready for him to meet Logan. That was a big step, and they were still feeling things out, not to mention she'd like to talk to Logan's father about how he felt about it.

“I don’t think I’m there yet,” she admitted, keeping her voice gentle. “I hope that doesn’t sound bad.” “No, not at all,” Quinn assured her quickly. “I get it.”

There was a pause, and then he said, “Mind if I do something?” She raised an eyebrow. “What kind of something?”

“You’ll see.”

With that cryptic answer, he hung up, leaving Daphne staring at her phone, both amused and curious.

A few moments later, Quinn called Brock.

“Dude, what’s up?” Brock answered, the sound of some hockey video playing in the background. “I need a favour,” Quinn said. “A big one.” Brock snorted. “That’s what friends are for. What do you need?”

“I want to take Daphne out again, but her babysitter’s on vacation. She’s not ready for me to meet Logan, which I totally respect. So… think you and Bella could watch him for a couple of hours?”

Brock let out a low laugh, “Man, you’re really into her, huh?” Quinn laughed, a little embarrassed to be admitting it so early. “I really am.”

“Well, lucky for you, Bella’s been saying how much she wants to see Logs. So, yeah, we got you.” “You’re the best,” Quinn said, relieved. Brock chuckled. “I know. I’ll text Daph and set it up.”

Daphne was in the middle of prepping for dinner and then some marking when she got Brock’s message:

Brock: Hey, Bella and I will watch Logan if you wanna go on that date. No excuses now.

She blinked at the screen, then shook her head with a soft laugh. Quinn.

Daphne stood in front of the mirror, dabbing a bit of blush onto her cheeks as Bella lounged on her bed, scrolling through her phone. The loud laughter of both Brock and Logan echoed from the living room as they played mini sticks.

“I gotta say, Daph,” Bella mused, a teasing lilt in her voice, “this thing with Quinn? He’s smitten. Like, full-on heart-eyes, willing-to-grovel smitten.”

Daphne shot her a look in the reflection. “Oh, come on. He didn’t grovel.”

Bella snorted. “Oh, but he did. Brock told me everything. Apparently, Quinn called him all serious like, ‘Bro, I need a favor. A big one.’” She dramatically deepened her voice, making Daphne roll her eyes. “Then he launched into this whole thing about how he totally respects that you’re not ready to introduce Logan yet, which—respect, for real—but he really, really wanted to see you again. So Brock, being the hero he is, came straight to me, and we both agreed there was no way we weren’t helping out.”

Daphne set her brush down, turning to face Bella with an amused shake of her head. “You make it sound like he was begging.”

“Oh, he absolutely was.” Bella sat up, crossing her legs. “Brock said he sounded like a lovesick puppy. ‘Come on, man. You have to help me out. I’ll owe you forever. Please, dude.’” She clasped her hands together dramatically. “I mean, it was adorable.”

Daphne groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. “That man has no shame,” she said sarcastically, which was not picked up by Bella. Bella grinned. “Nope. And honestly? I love that for you.”

Daphne sighed, turning back to the mirror, but there was a tiny smile on her lips.

Bella eyed her knowingly. “You like him.” “I like him,” Daphne admitted, smoothing out her top. “It’s just—Logan comes first. Always.”

Bella’s expression softened. “And that’s exactly why Quinn is a good one. He gets that.” She stood, moving beside Daphne and nudging her playfully. “Now, quit stalling and go enjoy your damn date. You’ve got a man willing to beg just to spend time with you. At least let him buy you dinner.”

Daphne laughed, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her purse. “Fine, fine. But if this goes terribly, I’m blaming you.”

Bella smirked. “Deal. But it won’t.

Quinn pulled up in front of Daphne’s apartment complex, shifting the car into park as the quiet hum of the engine filled the space between them.

Their second date had been good—better than good, actually.

Conversation had flowed effortlessly, laughter had come easy, and for the first time in a while, Daphne let herself enjoy someone’s company without overthinking it.

Now, as they sat in the dim glow of the streetlight, Quinn turned to her, his gaze warm and unwavering. “I had a great time tonight,” he said, voice low and sincere. Daphne smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Me too.”

For a second, there was only silence, charged and expectant. Then, Quinn leaned in, slow enough that she could stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t.

His lips met hers in a kiss that was soft at first, hesitant, but quickly deepened as he tilted his head, pulling her closer. It was messy—not perfect or practiced, just real, filled with the kind of urgency that came from wanting something for a long time.

Daphne let herself melt into it for a breath, her fingers curling slightly against his jacket, before reality nudged at her—Logan was inside, Bella and Brock were waiting, and she wasn’t the kind of girl who made out in cars like a teenager.

With a quiet sigh, she pulled away, her lips tingling. “Quinn…” she started, her voice softer than she meant it to be.

He blinked, like he was still catching up, and then let out a small, breathy chuckle. “Yeah, okay. That was—” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

She smiled, biting her lip. “Thank you for tonight.” Quinn’s gaze softened. “Anytime, Daph.”

She hesitated for only a second before leaning in again—not for another deep kiss, but a quick, sweet press of her lips against his bearded cheek. Then, without another word, she slipped out of the car, making her way up to the front door.

Quinn watched her go, shaking his head with a smirk. Yeah, he thought, he was in real deep with this one.

It was a few weeks later, and dinner turned into lunches, which later became casual hanging out, which had led to tonight.

Tonight had been so close to something more.

Daphne had felt it—the heat, the way Quinn’s hands skimmed her waist as she pulled him toward her bedroom. His lips were on her neck, her fingers tangled in his post-game dress shirt, a little wrinkled and far too much fabric.

It would have been so easy to let it happen.

Especially as his lips travelled her skin, riding her of her sweater and undershirt as he watched her with the most softest and loving gaze.

But then, somewhere between breaths, she hesitated.

Not because she didn’t want to—God, she wanted to—but because for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel the need to rush into sex.

So instead, she pulled back, her forehead resting against his as she whispered, “Stay the night?” Quinn had blinked at her, breath still heavy. “Yeah?” She nodded, a little nervous, giddy even. “I never get nights alone. Like, ever. And I—I just want to enjoy this. You.”

Quinn’s gaze softened instantly, and with a small smile, he kissed her forehead and then dropped down to kiss her lips. “Then I’m all yours, Daph.”

And just like that, they spent the night tangled together—not in the way they almost had, but in a way that felt just as intimate.

The slow kind of closeness.

His arm wrapped around her waist, her head on his chest, their legs tangled beneath the duvet as they drifted into sleep.

The sun wasn’t even fully up when a loud noise pulled Daphne from sleep. She groaned, disoriented, before the sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand snapped her awake.

She grabbed it, squinting at the screen. James.

Shit.

Sliding out of bed as carefully as she could so she wouldn’t wake Quinn, she answered, voice still groggy. “Hello?”

“Hey, sorry for the early call,” James said, sounding rushed. “I just got called in for a shift and need to drop Logan off early.”

Daphne’s heart stopped.

Logan. James. Here.

Quinn was still in her bed.

She glanced over her shoulder, seeing him stretch lazily under the covers. He blinked at her, sleepily murmuring, “Everything okay?”

No. Absolutely not.

“Uh—yeah,” she whispered. “I just—James is bringing Logan over. Now.”

Quinn’s brows lifted slightly, but to his credit, he didn’t panic. Instead, he nodded, pushing himself up. “Alright. Want me to, like… hide in the closet?” Daphne snorted, smacking a hand to her forehead. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“You got a better idea?”

She did not, and she wasn't about to kick him out.

Ten minutes later, she was at the front door, dressed in a hoodie and pyjama bottoms, trying to act totally normal as James carried a half-asleep Logan inside.

“Sorry for the short notice,” James said, adjusting Logan on his hip. The little boy’s curls were a wild mess, his tiny fists rubbing at his tired eyes. “They’re short-staffed again, and the hospital is having a hard time finding nurses.” “It’s fine,” Daphne assured him, brushing some hair from Logan’s forehead. “I got him.”

James gave her a grateful smile before glancing around at the suit jacket and tie that were draped across her kitchen chair, something shifting in his expression. His brows furrowed slightly. “You alone?”

Before she could even answer, movement behind her made them both turn.

Quinn.

Standing in her hallway. In a pair of loose sweats and a baggy shirt.

Daphne wanted to die.

James’s face was unreadable. Logan, however, perked up instantly. “Mama?” He blinked at Quinn, then turned back to his mom. “Who’s that?”

Quinn, to his credit, gave a small, sheepish smile and lifted a hand. “Uh… hey, buddy.”

Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh my God.”

James exhaled, then turned to Logan. “That’s Mommy’s friend, bud.”

Logan blinked up at him, then at Quinn. “Oh.” Then, after a moment, he pointed. “You have a beard.” Quinn huffed a small laugh, scratching his jaw. “I, uh… I do.”

Silence.

James looked at Daphne. Daphne looked at James. Quinn stood there, looking very out of place.

And then Logan, completely unfazed, yawned, rested his head against James’s shoulder, and mumbled, “Can I have pancakes?” Daphne let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, shaking her head as she reached for her son. “Yeah, baby. Let’s get you some breakfast.”

James lingered for a second, looking at Quinn once more like he was trying to place exactly where he knew him from, before exhaling and heading for the door. “See you later, Daphne.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, still a little stunned. “See you.”

The second the door shut behind him, she turned to Quinn, who just gave her a lopsided grin.

“So,” he said. “That wasn’t awkward at all.”

Daphne groaned, covering her face. “I hate my life.”

Quinn chuckled, stepping closer and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Could’ve been worse.” She peeked up at him. “How?” “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Your dad could’ve walked in instead.”

She stared at him.

Then, against all odds, they started laughing.

Quinn sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee as he watched Daphne move around the kitchen with ease. Logan, now fully awake and much more energetic, sat on the counter, swinging his little legs as his mom flipped a few slices of bacon and pancakes on the stove.

Daphne didn’t even hesitate when Logan asked for more syrup. She poured a tiny bit onto his plate, ruffled his curls, and smiled as he let out a happy little “Thanks, Mama!” before diving face first into his pancakes and strawberries.

Quinn couldn't help but stare.

It wasn’t just that she was just good at being a mom—it was the way she made it look so natural.

The way she somehow balanced making breakfast, answering Logan’s nonstop questions, and keeping the little boy entertained, all while looking effortlessly beautiful in her messy bun and his oversized Canuck’s t-shirt she must have stolen from the floor of her room.

She was so different like this. Not just the woman he flirted with over dinner, or the one who had pulled him into bed last night—this was a different side of her. A version he had never met before.

And he liked it.

A lot.

Later, after breakfast was finished and Logan had played himself into exhaustion, Daphne tucked him into bed for his nap. She came back out into the living room, stretching with a small yawn before flopping onto the couch beside Quinn.

He glanced at her, amused as his hand moved up to run over the skin of her brow bone before pulling her closer. “Tired?”

She shot him a look. “You try keeping up with a four-year-old all day and then talk to me about tired.”

Quinn smirked, wrapping an arm fully around her shoulder and pulling her close. She let out a soft sigh, resting her head against him. They sat there for a moment, comfortable, before he finally broke the silence.

“So…” he started carefully. “You never really told me about you and James.” Daphne stiffened slightly. “What about me and James?” He ran his fingers up and down her arm absentmindedly. “I don’t know. Just… what happened?”

She was quiet for a moment, staring ahead at the window. “We were young,” she said finally. “I got pregnant when I was twenty-one. We tried to make it work, but…” She sighed, shaking her head as she looked up at the man she was lying with.

“James is a good guy. A great dad. But we weren’t in love anymore. And we both knew it.”

Quinn nodded, letting that settle. “Was it messy?”

Daphne gave a small laugh, though there wasn’t much humour in it. “Not as bad as it could’ve been. I mean, yeah, there were hard moments. Arguments. A lot of frustration. But at the end of the day, we both just wanted to do what was best for Logs.”

Quinn watched her carefully. “And you? Are you happy?”

She turned to look at him then, and for a moment, she didn’t answer.

Then, softly, she said, “I think I’m getting there.”

Quinn’s chest ached at that. He lifted a hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “For what it’s worth,” he murmured, “I think you’re doing a hell of a job.” Her breath hitched just slightly, and for the first time all morning, she looked a little unsteady. Like maybe she wasn’t used to hearing that.

Then, without a word, she leaned in and kissed him.

Slow.

Soft.

Like she was finally letting herself believe it.

Weeks later, Quinn found him self tucked away in her apartment as she fussed over his injuries, which led to now.

The man woke up to the sound of tiny footsteps scurrying across the floor, followed by a quiet thump as something, rather a someone, climbed onto the bed.

Blinking himself awake, he turned his head and was immediately met with a pair of big, curious eyes staring back at him.

Logan.

The kid was right there, barely inches from his face, perched on the edge of the mattress like a little gremlin.

“You snore,” Logan announced matter-of-factly. Quinn chuckled, running a hand over his face. “Do I?” Logan nodded, curls bouncing. “Like a bear.” “Wow.” Quinn sat up, stretching. “That’s some tough criticism, man.”

Logan shrugged, as if to say I’m just telling the truth. Then, after a beat, he asked, “Are you making me breakfast?”

Quinn blinked slowly. “Wait—am I making you breakfast?”

“Uh-huh.” Logan nodded again, very sure of himself. “Mama always makes me breakfast, but she’s really tired. So you gotta do it.”

Quinn glanced over at Daphne, still asleep, her face buried in the pillow. She hadn’t moved an inch, and honestly, she deserved to sleep in.

He turned back to Logan. “Alright, kid. I guess I’m on duty.” Logan grinned and hopped off the bed. “Come on!”

Quinn quickly realized that cooking for a four-year-old was no joke.

He had attempted pancakes—because how hard could pancakes really be? But somehow, they were coming out as arguably inedible.

The first one had burned, the second was way too runny, and the third looked more like a sad, deflated cake than a pancake.

“Hmm.” Logan frowned, poking at the latest attempt with a very serious expression as they stood there in matching aprons. “That doesn’t look like Mama’s pancakes.” Quinn groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Logan tilted his head, thinking. “Maybe you need more love in it.” Quinn huffed a laugh. “Oh yeah? That's the secret ingredient?” Logan nodded, very sure of himself. “Mama always says love makes everything better.”

Quinn glanced toward the bedroom, his heart tugging a little.

He really liked this kid’s mom.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to get this right for Daph, but also selfishly to win over Logan.

“Alright, Chef Logan,” Quinn said, rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s try this again.”

When Daphne finally emerged from her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she was immediately hit with the smell of maple syrup and burnt pancake.

She followed the scent into the kitchen, stopping short when she saw the scene before her. Logan sat proudly at the table, munching on a very interesting-looking pancake, while Quinn stood at the stove, flipping another one with a look of deep concentration.

The counter was covered in flour, batter dripped from the bowls, and there were at least three failed pancakes stacked to the side on a paper towel.

She raised an eyebrow at the mess, “What… is happening?”

Quinn turned, spatula in hand. “Morning, sunshine. We made pancakes.”

Logan beamed. “Quinn burned the first ones, but then I told him to use love, and now they’re kinda good.” Daphne stifled a laugh, crossing her arms as she looked at the man who awkwardly stood by the stove. “Oh, did you?”

Quinn exhaled, flipping another pancake onto the plate. “Your kid is a tough critic.” “He’s a pancake connoisseur,” she corrected with a laugh.

Daphne stepped closer, stealing a bite from Logan’s plate. The pancake was oddly shaped, but it tasted… surprisingly decent. She glanced at Quinn. “Not bad.”

Quinn smirked. “See? Love works.”

Daphne rolled her eyes, but there was something warm in her chest as she watched Logan giggle, clearly enjoying the morning. And as Quinn sat down beside them, stealing a piece of Logan’s pancake, she realized she felt oddly at ease.

Later that evening, after Quinn had left and the house had settled into a quiet hum, Daphne found herself curled up on the couch with Logan. He was freshly bathed, wrapped up in his dinosaur blanket, and tucked against her side as he lazily played with the hem of her sweater.

For a while, he didn’t say much—just rested against her, sleepy from the long day. But then, in that thoughtful voice of his, he asked,

“Mama?” She hummed, running her fingers gently through his damp curls. “Yeah, baby?”

Logan hesitated for a second, like he was trying to piece the words together in his little mind. Then, carefully, he asked,

“Is Quinn your boyfriend?”

Daphne froze for half a second, her heart stumbling over itself.

Of all the things he could’ve asked.

She swallowed, treading carefully. “Why do you ask, bud?” Logan shifted, still playing with her sweater. “Dunno,” he mumbled. “He was here when I woke up. And he made me pancakes. And you kissed him.”

Daphne felt her face heat up. Great. Apparently, her four-year-old was more observant than she gave him credit for.

She exhaled softly, choosing her words. “Quinn is… someone I really like,” she admitted. “And he really likes me too.” Logan blinked up at her. “Like love?” Daphne bit her lip, caught off guard. “It’s… a little early for that, babe.”

Logan considered this, nodding sagely like he was thinking very hard about it. Then, after a moment, he asked,

“Do you think he likes me?”

And just like that, Daphne’s heart melted into a puddle.

She brushed a curl from his forehead, kissing it gently. “Oh, baby. Of course he does.” Logan was quiet for a beat, then let out a small hmm, like he was still processing.

Finally, he mumbled, “I think I like him too.”

Daphne smiled, pulling him closer. “Yeah?” Logan yawned, nestling into her side. “Yeah. But his pancakes need work.” Daphne laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his curls. “I’ll make sure to tell him.”

Daphne stood near the playground fence, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The crisp air nipped at her cheeks as she watched Logan race across the play structure, his laughter carrying over the distant hum of other kids playing around him.

Beside her, James sighed, shifting his weight. “So… Quinn.”

Daphne tensed but didn’t look at him. “Yeah. Quinn.”

James nodded slowly, watching Logan for a moment before speaking again. “So is he just some guy in your bed, or is he actually something serious?” Daphne turned to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

James met her gaze evenly. “Look, I don’t care who you date, Daphne. But when I walked into your apartment and saw some random dude in sweats standing in your hallway? That was a hell of a way to find out you had someone new in your life.”

She let out a frustrated breath. “It’s not like I planned for that to happen, James. I just—I wasn’t ready to bring it up yet until I knew that he was willing to stick around.”

James scoffed. “You weren’t ready? Daph, Logan woke up to a stranger in the house. That’s not something you ease into.” She crossed her arms even tighter. “It’s not like I introduce him to every guy I date.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Every guy? How many have there been?”

“Oh my God, that’s not the point James!”

James let out a short, dry laugh. “You’re right, it’s not. The point is, if someone’s going to be around our kid, I need to know about it. Not find out by accident.”

Daphne exhaled sharply, staring at the ground. “You do know him, James.” He frowned. “What?”

She finally looked at him again, something challenging in her expression. “Quinn. He’s Quinn Hughes, Brock's friend.”

James froze. Blinked. And then— “You’re kidding.”

Daphne shook her head.

James let out a long breath, running a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ. You’re dating a hockey player?” Daphne narrowed her eyes. “Why do you say it like that?” James threw his hands up. “Because, Daph! Do you know how those guys live? Always travelling, always in the spotlight. Hell, does he even have time for you?”

Her jaw clenched. “You don’t know him.”

“I know his type.”

She took a step closer, her voice sharp. “Oh, do you? You, the guy who barely has a personal life because the hospital owns you? You think you have the right to judge someone else’s schedule?” James exhaled hard through his nose. “That’s not the same.” “It is the same.” Daphne’s voice was low, heated. “You work insane hours, James. But Logan still loves you. He doesn’t care that you’re on call half the time. So why is it different for Quinn?”

James opened his mouth and then closed it.

Daphne pressed on. “You don’t get to decide what’s right for me, James. And I would never bring someone around Logan if I wasn’t sure about them.”

James was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, he ran a hand over his face and sighed. “Is it serious?” Daphne hesitated. “I don’t know.” James turned to look at her. “Do you want it to be?” She swallowed, her arms loosening from their defensive stance. “...Yeah, I do.”

Something in James’s expression shifted, the fight leaving his shoulders. He sighed again, then rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Okay.” Daphne blinked. “Okay?”

James nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not thrilled about how I found out, but… if you’re serious about this, I’ll back off.” Daphne studied him for a second, surprised that she didn't have to argue more on her behalf. “Really?”

James smirked slightly. “Daph. You’re the mother of my kid. I trust you.”

Her chest tightened, something soft threading through the remaining frustration.

Then, James exhaled and shot her a pointed look. “But if he messes this up, I will kick his ass.” Daphne snorted. “Noted.”

James glanced at Logan, who was now attempting to climb a structure far too big for him. “I gotta head to work. You’re still good to take him over for family dinner on Sunday at Mum’s?” Daphne nodded. “Yeah, we'll be there.”

James hesitated.

Then, a little quieter, he added, “For what it’s worth… I hope it works out.” Daphne blinked at him, caught off guard. James shrugged. “Logan likes him. And you…” He tilted his head. “You look happy.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Yeah. I really am.”

James nodded. “Then that’s what matters.” And with that, he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and walked off, leaving her standing there, feeling lighter than she had in a long time.

Daphne had thought she was prepared for anything.

She was a mom, after all—she’d handled sleepless nights, tantrums, potty-training, and even a brief phase where Logan insisted on only eating food that was in liquid form.

She had survived it all.

But this?

This was a whole new level of chaos.

Because somehow, both her four-year-old and her grown boyfriend were down for the count with the flu.

And it was brutal.

It had started with Logan the day before—suddenly burning up, cheeks flushed, his tiny body curled up in her arms as he whined softly, “Mama, I don’t feel good.”

Daphne had immediately gone into full mom mode, taking his temperature, setting up a cozy sick spot on the couch, and making sure he had his favourite stuffed orca, Hank, that Quinn had bought him, which was tucked against his chest.

For the most part, Logan was a pitiful little patient—lots of sniffling, lots of dramatic groans, and the occasional half-asleep mumble of “Mama, am I dying?”

By morning, she was exhausted, running purely on coffee and adrenaline. But Logan was finally resting, tucked into a pile of blankets, cartoons playing softly in the background.

That was when her phone rang.

“Daph…” Quinn’s voice was rough. Scratchy. Miserable. And honestly, a little sexy. She frowned. “Quinn? You okay?” A pause. Then a weak, pitiful, “I think I’m dying.”

Daphne sighed, already rubbing her temple. “Let me guess—fever? Body aches? Can’t get off the couch?” “… Yes.”

“And you’re being dramatic about it?” Another pause. “… Maybe.” Daphne sighed again but with a little laugh, glancing over at Logan, who had managed to fall into a sniffly sleep. “Stay put,” she muttered. “I’m coming over to get you.”

An hour later, Quinn was bundled up on her couch, tucked under the softest blanket she owned, looking pathetic.

“You’re enjoying this,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse as he sipped at the tea she had forced into his hands. Daphne smirked, perching on the arm of the couch. “A little bit.” Quinn pouted, his head lolling back dramatically. “I’m dying, Daph.”

She rolled her eyes, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. “You have a fever. You’re not dying.” “Feels like I am.”

“Tell that to Logan. He’s handling this way better than you are.” Quinn groaned, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Unfair. He’s, like, a superhero in tiny form.”

Daphne huffed a laugh, then sighed, laying a damp cloth against his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut at the cool relief, and for a moment, he just looked so tired.

“You’re really taking care of me,” he murmured, voice softer now. She shrugged. “You’re one of my boys now.” Quinn’s lips curled into a tiny, sleepy smile. “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

Ellen Hughes prided herself on knowing everything there was to know about her sons.

She knew when Quinn was stressed (he rubbed his jaw), when Jack was excited about something (his ears went red), and even when Luke was nervous (he had uncontrollable word vomit). And she definitely knew when they were up to something.

So when she heard whispers—more like gossip from one of the Canuck's trainers she had befriended—about Quinn possibly having a girlfriend… and not just any girlfriend, but one with a child… she was floored.

How in the world had the Hughes #1 Mama's boy kept this from her?

It took exactly ten minutes from the moment she found out to the moment she called him.

Quinn answered on the third ring, his voice groggy. “Mom?” Ellen narrowed her eyes. “Why do you sound half-dead?” “… Because I am half-dead?” Quinn groaned. “I had the flu all week, remember?”

“And who took care of you?”

A long silence. Too long.

“… Mom.”

“Quinn.”

He sighed. “Daphne.”

There it is.

Ellen perked up. “So it’s true?” Quinn groaned again, but this time, it wasn’t sick-related. “Who told you?” “Doesn’t matter.” She waved a hand he couldn’t see. “What matters is that I had to hear about my son’s serious relationship from someone else!” “It’s not—it’s still new,” Quinn said, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

Ellen narrowed her eyes again. “New enough that she nursed you back to health?” Another pause. Then, grudgingly, “… Maybe not that new.”

She hummed in satisfaction. “And what’s this I hear about a little boy?”

Quinn exhaled. “Her son. Logan. He’s four.”

Ellen’s heart gave a strange little tug. “Oh.”

“I like them, Mom,” Quinn admitted, his voice softer now. “A lot.”

And just like that, her frustration melted into something warmer.

Because that voice? That wasn’t her son being defensive. That was her son caring.

Maybe even falling.

Ellen smiled, settling back into her chair. “Well, Quinn,” she said lightly, “when do I get to meet them?”

James was already suspicious when he saw Quinn’s name pop up on his phone.

They weren’t exactly buddies.

Did they share a couple of friends? Sure. Were they slowly approaching co-parent territory? To some extent. Tolerant of each other? Mostly.

But casual phone calls? Yeah, that was new.

Still, curiosity won out, and he answered.

“Hughes.”

“Hey, man.” Quinn sounded… nervous? Which immediately made James even more suspicious. “What’s up?”

There was a beat of silence, and then Quinn cleared his throat. “So, uh… I was wondering if you’d be cool with coming to a game this weekend with Daphne and Logan, of course.”

James blinked. “Like… one of your games?”

“Yeah. I kinda—” Quinn paused. “Look, I really want Daphne and Logan to come. And my family’s gonna be there—my parents, my brothers—” “The ones playing against you?” James interjected, smirking slightly.

Quinn let out a short laugh. “Yeah. Those guys.”

James could already picture the sibling chirping that was bound to happen.

“So,” Quinn continued. “I just figured it might be less… weird? If you came too, not only for Logan and Daphne to have a familiar face, but because I'd like to show Logan that we get along.”

James frowned slightly. “You want me there?”

“I mean, I’m not saying we gotta sit around and share our deepest secrets or anything, but—” Quinn hesitated. “Look, man. I know I kind of bulldozed into your kid’s life. And I get that it’s gotta be weird for you. But I really care about Daph. And Logan.”

James let out a slow breath, his grip on the phone tightening slightly.

Quinn kept going. “I don’t want to step on your toes, James. I just… I want to be there for them. And I figured maybe this was a good way to, I don’t know, try to be cool with each other.”

James was quiet for a second. He didn’t hate Quinn. And honestly? The guy was making an effort. A real one.

And wasn’t that what mattered?

He sighed. “Fine. But if your brothers absolutely destroy you on the ice, I’m not stopping Logan from cheering for them.”

Quinn groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Rub it in.”

James smirked. “See you at the game, Hughes.” he paused for a second before a awkward, "and thanks," left his mouth.

Daphne had met parents before.

She’d met a lot of parents, actually—on field trip days, at parent-teacher conferences, during kindergarten drop-offs when frazzled moms and dads rushed in.

She was good with parents.

Not to mention, she was a great parent,

But this? This was different.

These weren’t just any parents. These were Quinn’s parents. The people who had raised him, who knew every version of him that had existed before the one she knew now.

And no matter how much she liked Quinn—and God, she liked him an unbelievable amount—there was still that tiny voice in the back of her mind whispering, "What if they think I’m too much? What if they don’t get why he’d want this?"

She exhaled sharply, tugging at the sleeves of her blouse as she sat on the couch, waiting for Quinn to finish getting ready.

Across the room, Logan sat on the floor, completely unbothered, piecing Lego blocks together with all the concentration of a four-year-old who had no idea his mother was spiralling.

Quinn emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, tucking his shirt into his pants as he walked over. “Alright, you two ready to—” He paused mid-sentence, eyes flickering over her face. “What’s wrong?”

Daphne hesitated. Then, reluctantly, she sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just…” She let out a breath, shaking her head. “This is big, Quinn. I know you say they’re great and that they’ll love me and Logan, but I just—” She swallowed. “I don’t want them to look at me and think I’m a mess.”

Quinn’s face softened instantly.

“Daph,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hands settling gently on her arms. “They’re not gonna think that.” “You don’t know that,” she countered, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I mean, I’m young, I have a kid, and you’re—you. I just don’t want them to have the impression that we are some complication.”

Quinn frowned, shaking his head. “Okay, first of all, don’t say that. You and Logan aren’t complications, you’re—” He let out a short breath, squeezing her arms gently. “You’re you, Daph. And that’s what I want. And I promise, my parents? They just wanna meet the girl who’s making me ridiculously happy.”

She exhaled, searching his face. “You sure?” His lips twitched. “Pretty sure.”

Daphne didn’t totally believe him, not yet, but when Logan looked up from his block tower and asked, “Mama, can we go now?” she figured she didn’t have much of a choice. She nodded. “Alright, let’s do this.”

The restaurant wasn’t fancy, but it was nice. The kind of place that felt warm as soon as you stepped in, full of laughter and smelled strongly of Italian food.

Quinn spotted his family first. They were already seated at a round table near the back, and as they approached, Daphne immediately recognized Ellen Hughes not only from the way that she looked exactly like Quinn but the way she lit up as soon as she saw them.

“Oh my God,” Ellen gasped, standing instantly as she beamed at Quinn before turning to Daphne and Logan. “You must be Daphne!” Daphne barely had a second to brace herself before Ellen reached out, pulling her into a warm, motherly hug, smelling faintly of vanilla and fresh linen. And just like that, some of the tension in her chest started to melt. Ellen pulled back with a wide smile. “It is so nice to finally meet you.”

Jim, Quinn’s dad, was more reserved but just as kind, offering a firm handshake and a “He’s talked about you a lot, you know.” Daphne felt herself blush as she glanced at Quinn, who simply shrugged with a grin.

And then there were his brothers.

Jack and Luke, both grinning like they already had jokes lined up, stood next.

“So this is the girl,” Jack teased, shaking her hand. “Gotta say, he’s been suspiciously happy lately, so you must be special.” Daphne let out a small laugh. “I try.”

Then Luke, slightly more subtle but still smirking, nodded toward Logan, who had been quietly taking everything in. “And this little guy must be Logan.” Logan blinked up at him, eyes wide, before nodding. “Uh-huh.” Luke grinned. “Nice to meet you, dude. You like hockey?” Logan perked up slightly. “Yeah.” “Nice. Who’s your favorite player?”

The four-year-old thought very hard about it before shrugging. “Mama likes Quinn.”

Jack let out a loud bark of laughter as Quinn grinned widely at the praise. “Oh, he is my favourite,” Daphne teased as she squeezed Quinn’s cheeks before looking back at Logan. “But you can like whoever you want, Babe.”

Logan took that in, then nodded again, turning back to Luke. “I like Quinn, too.” Quinn, who had been pretending to suffer through Jack’s laughter, immediately softened. “Yeah?”

Logan hummed. “Yeah. And pancakes.”

Ellen, clearly already adoring him, gasped. “You like pancakes? Me too!” Logan perked up. “Really?” “Oh yeah,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially. “And I bet I make better ones than Quinn.” Logan’s eyes widened. “Probably.”

Quinn groaned. “Oh my God.”

Daphne, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, felt a warmth settle deep in her chest.

This wasn’t forced. It wasn’t awkward like she had feared.

Quinn’s family wasn’t just being nice to her and Logan.

They were welcoming them.

Ellen leaned in slightly as they all settled into their seats. “You doing okay, sweetie?” she asked softly. Daphne blinked at her, slightly caught off guard by the gentle, knowing tone.

And maybe it was just because she was still a little nervous, or maybe because it had been so long since she’d had this—a mother figure just checking in on her, just making sure she was okay—but something inside her cracked, just a little.

She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat, nodding. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I am.”

And as she glanced at Quinn, who was currently watching Logan babble excitedly to Luke and Jack, looking more content than she had ever seen him, she realized something else.

She was in love with Quinn Hughes

Daphne’s phone buzzed in her pocket just as she was pulling the blanket over Logan’s tiny, sleepy frame.

She glanced at the screen. Quinn.

“Hey,” she murmured into the phone as she stepped quietly into the hallway. “Hey.” His voice was warm, familiar. “Did I wake you?” “No, just got Logan down.” She leaned against the doorframe, absently rubbing her arm.

“How’s the rest of your night?” Quinn sighed. “Good. Parents are settling in, we caught up, just hanging out.”

There was a pause, then, a little softer, “But I kinda wanna see you.” Daphne bit her lip. “Quinn—”

“I know, I know. You think I should stay. But I don’t have to, Daph. They get it, and honestly, they probably wouldn't mind being alone after the long travel day yesterday.”

She hesitated. “You don’t feel bad leaving them?” “Not even a little.” His voice dropped slightly. “I want to be with you.”

Her stomach flipped. There was never a time when he wasn't making her flustered.

She sighed, shaking her head even though he couldn’t see. “Door’s unlocked.”

“Be there in fifteen.”

He quickly snuck into her apartment, careful not to wake Logan, as he found her in the kitchen tidying up. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before she turned around to get a good look at him.

The air between them shifted the moment she maneuvered herself and leaned against the counter.

He looked… so good. A hoodie and sweats, casual, but his eyes were sharp and focused. On her.

“Hey,” she murmured.

Quinn didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her—barefoot, in an old T-shirt and soft pyjama shorts—and his jaw ticked.

Then he closed the distance, slow, but purposeful, fingers brushing over her hip as he leaned in.

“Missed you,” he murmured against her skin, lips grazing the spot just below her ear. Daphne exhaled sharply.

“You saw me like three hours ago.” Quinn huffed a quiet laugh, pressing another kiss, lower this time. “Not the same.”

She didn’t have a response to that. Not when he was touching her like this, kissing her like this—like he had all the time in the world to explore her, to memorize the way she softened under his hands.

Her fingers found the hem of his hoodie, tugging just slightly. Quinn got the message. He pulled back just enough to peel it off, tossing it onto a kitchen chair before his hands were back on her, this time sliding beneath her shirt, fingertips teasing against warm skin.

Daphne sucked in a breath, arching into him before he lifted her up and onto the countertope.

“Quinn.”

He hummed in response, dipping his head to kiss along her collarbone.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make him look at her. His pupils were blown, lips slightly parted, breath uneven.

“What?” he asked, voice thick. She just shook her head. “Bedroom.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

And when he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her down the hall, her laughter melted into something much softer, much sweeter, as he whispered against her lips.

“I’ve got you.”

Roger's Arena was buzzing.

Kids ran down the aisles with foam fingers and cotton candy, adults sipped beer in branded plastic cups, and the steady rumble of the crowd filled the arena like background music to something much bigger.

Daphne sat with Logan on her lap, his eyes wide as he clutched a homemade sign that said Go Quinn Go! in big, uneven glitter letters covered in stickers. She’d helped him with it that morning. Which was really her watching as he insisted on using every dinosaur sticker they owned.

James was seated beside them, a giant tub of popcorn balanced between his knees, trying to look casual and not out of place at all as a few of the Hughes' family members wagered from the row behind them over which brother was going to score first tonight.

Ellen and Jim Hughes sat two seats over, already completely smitten with Logan, who had announced earlier that Quinn’s mom smelled like cookies and Quinn’s dad had cool sunglasses.

“Is it starting yet?” Logan asked for the third time, bouncing slightly. “Soon, baby,” Daphne murmured, adjusting his beanie. “They’re just warming up.”

“Is Quinn warming up?” “Yep. See the guy skating backwards over there?” She pointed toward the ice. “That’s him.”

Logan squinted. “He’s so fast.” “Yep. That’s his job bud,” James chimed in, his tone teasing just enough to make Daphne roll her eyes—and Logan looks very serious.

“He looks good at this,” Logan announced to everyone, "definitely not a chef.” Beside them, Jim burst out laughing. “I love this kid.”

By the time puck drop came Logan was leaning forward in his seat like it was the most important event of his life. Every time Quinn touched the puck, he gasped like someone had just revealed a magic trick.

When Quinn made an assist in the second period, Logan screamed.

“That was him! That was Quinn! Did you see that?! He passed it, and then—bam!” His little arms waved in all directions.

Ellen clapped gently as she watched the boy with heart eyes, and Jim chuckled. “I think we’ve got ourselves a fan.” “Just wait until he learns about the fights,” James muttered. “It’s over.” Daphne gave him a look. “I think he'll be a bigger fan of the goalie hugs.”

After the game, they made their way through the press of people toward the private family area near the locker room. Logan was practically vibrating.

“Do you think Quinn saw my sign?” he asked, clutching it again. “I bet it was the first thing he saw,” Daphne assured him, her heart full as he grinned.

When Quinn finally came out, still sweaty and slightly flushed, he lit up the second he spotted them. Logan threw his sign to the floor as he sprinted straight for the man. “QUINN!” Quinn crouched just in time to catch him mid-jump. “Hey, buddy! Did you see that—” “I SAW EVERYTHING. I SAW THE ZOOMING AND THE HITTING, AND YOU DID A SLIDE THING, AND A GUY FELL DOWN!”

Everyone laughed. Quinn included.

“Well, glad I impressed my toughest critic,” he said, standing with Logan still clinging to him like a koala.

Then he looked up and met Daphne’s eyes. The chaos of the kid in his arms and his loud teammates greeting their families seemed to blur.

She stepped toward him, arms looping loosely around his waist. “You did so good.” “You made signs.”

“I helped Logan make signs.”

“Still counts,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “You being here means everything.” “We wouldn’t miss it.”

Behind them, James was talking with Quinn’s dad about getting Logan involved in a peewee league, while Ellen sneakily offered Daphne a Tupperware container “for the ride home,” because apparently Quinn forgets to eat if someone doesn't intervene. Jack and Luke had already started plotting revenge for the next Devils vs Canucks game.

The entire thing was chaotic. But oddly warm.

And as Daphne looked around—at her son, grinning with a chubby cheek pressed to Quinn’s shoulder, as the family that had welcomed the two so easily fussed over how tired Logan looked—she felt something settle in her chest.

Acceptance.

The wine was good— a little cheap, but chilled just right—and the patio lights strung from Bella’s apartment balcony gave the evening that kind of cozy feeling, the one that helped Daphne feel a little looser, a little more willing to let secrets slip.

They’d been picking at a charcuterie board that Bella definitely overthought, and Daphne was already half a bottle in, legs tucked beneath her as she sank deeper into the cushioned patio chair.

“Soooooo,” Bella said, swirling her glass dramatically. “How’s Quinn?”

Daphne smiled despite herself, cheeks already pink. “I just know you love knowing that the blind date you set me up with accidentally charmed the hell out of me and my kid?”

“Exactly.”

Daphne sighed, leaning back. “He’s… good though. Great, actually. It’s kind of insane.” Bella raised a brow, tilting her head. “Like, scary great?” “Yeah,” Daphne said after a pause. “Like... I keep waiting for the catch. But he’s just there. So sure of himself. So sweet. Like, he actually wants all of it. Me. Logan. The chaos.”

Bella grinned, sipping her wine. “I told you. Hockey boys are either absolute trash or weirdly obsessed knights in shining armour.” “Pretty sure Quinn is a real-life angel.” They both laughed, and then Bella leaned forward, setting her glass down.

“So how’s James doing with all of this?” Daphne hesitated. “It’s been... a little weird. But not in a bad way. We’ve had some moments—some tough conversations—but he’s been decent. Protective, yeah. But he’s trying.”

Bella made a face of annoyance at James’ ways, always a little too willing to get upset before actually thinking about what’s best for Daphne. He's so good to Logan, and seemingly the perfect co-parent, but sometimes, when it comes to life outside of Logan, James had always hated the thought of Daph having a separate life from James and Logan.

“Brock said the boys have a pool going,” she changed the subject with a smile. Daphne blinked. “What kind of pool?” “A betting pool. About you two. Mostly harmless. Like, who meets the kid first, who spends the night, who says the L-word?”

Daphne nearly choked on her sip of wine. “You’re joking.”

“I wish,” Bella said, snorting. “Apparently, Brock won the ‘she keeps a toothbrush for him’ bet. Said it was obvious after that one practice where Quinn had toothpaste on his collar.” “Oh my God,” Daphne groaned, covering her face. “Since when do men notice shit like that?”

“They’re idiots with too much time and way too much locker room banter.” Bella raised a brow. “But...?” Daphne peeked over her fingers. “But what?” “Have you?” “Have I what?”

Bella gave her a look.

Daphne rolled her eyes, face burning. “I haven’t said it.”

“But?” Daphne chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. Then, quietly, “I think I’m in love with him.”

Bella didn’t speak right away. Just watched her, soft-eyed, letting the silence stretch in that comforting way only a best friend could.

Then finally, “Yeah. I figured.”

Daphne huffed out a laugh. “You did?”

“You look at him like he’s some kind of miracle.” Bella smiled, a little crooked. “And I’ve known you since you were six. You don’t do that lightly.” Daphne sighed as she sank deeper into the cushion of her seat, letting the words settle between them, warm and terrifying. “It’s just… I didn’t think I’d ever feel this again. Like real, true, fall-on-your-face kind of love.”

Bella refilled both their glasses and held hers out for a toast, “to falling on your face.” Daphne clinked her glass against it. “And to hoping he’s there to catch me.” Bella smirked. “Oh, he will be. You’ve got half the locker room watching.”

They both cracked up, wine spilling slightly over the rim as they both cringed at the cliche-ness of the moment.

It was cold—but the good kind of cold. The kind that bit at your cheeks but made your lungs feel fresh and alive.

The sky was overcast, and the outdoor rink was dusted with new snow.

Which was perfect.

Quinn laced up his skates slowly, sitting on the bench just outside the rink. Beside him, Logan was practically vibrating with excitement, swinging his little legs as he tried (and failed) to sit still while Quinn helped him with his tiny skates.

“You sure you’ve done this before?” Quinn asked, tying the laces tight. Logan nodded so hard his toque nearly slipped off. “With Mama! But I didn’t go fast. I wanna go fast.”

“Oh,” Quinn said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a speed demon, huh?” “I’m like… like the Flash. But on ice.” Quinn laughed. “Alright, Flash. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He stood up first, then reached down and helped Logan to his feet. The kid wobbled immediately, his arms flailing a bit, but Quinn caught him easily, steadying him.

“Whoa,” Logan said, eyes wide. “Okay. Okay, I got this.” “You’re doing great, bud,” Quinn said, guiding him carefully onto the ice.

They took it slow at first. Logan held onto both of Quinn’s hands, feet slipping every couple of steps. But he was determined—his little face scrunched in concentration, brows furrowed like he was on a mission as he watched the way Quinn's skates glided across the ice.

“Look at you,” Quinn grinned. “You’re already better than some of my teammates.”

Logan giggled, clearly proud. “Can I try by myself?” Quinn hesitated. “You sure?” “I got this.”

Quinn let go slowly, keeping close just in case. Logan immediately started to tilt sideways, arms windmilling—but then he caught himself.

Quinn raised his hands in celebration. “Dude! You didn’t fall!”

Logan beamed, triumphant as he reached out for a fist bump from Quinn, “I’m so fast.” “You’re so something,” Quinn chuckled, skating alongside him as the kid did a very cautious shuffle forward.

They made a few slow laps around the rink, with Quinn giving tips, cheering him on, and sometimes just holding his hand when Logan needed a break. At one point, Logan tripped and fell forward—knees hitting the ice—but he sat up laughing.

“I’m okay!” he shouted. “Hockey guys fall all the time, right?” “All the time,” Quinn said, helping him up. “But you bounced back better than most of us do.”

Eventually, they sat on the edge of the rink, Logan leaning against Quinn’s side with flushed cheeks and a red nose, looking very proud of himself.

“Are you having fun?” Quinn asked, brushing a bit of snow off Logan’s toque. Logan nodded. “Best day ever.” Quinn smiled down at him, pride washing over him. “Yeah?” “Yeah. ‘Cause you’re fun. And you’re Mama’s favourite.”

That stopped him.

Quinn’s chest tightened. “She told you that?” “No,” Logan said, very seriously. “But I can tell.”

Quinn couldn’t help it—he laughed, pulled the kid close in a little hug and awkwardly patted him on the head. “Well,” he said softly, “you’re my favourite, too.”

Logan looked up, grinning. “Wanna race again?” “Bring it on, Flash.” They got Logan's helmet back on and headed back for the ice. The sound of Logan’s giggles echoed through the cold air, loud and clear, a sound that stuck with Quinn long after they were done.

It started with Quinn’s hand in hers and the soft buzz of country music echoing through the bar, low lighting, pitchers of beer, and a corner booth packed with his teammates and their significant others.

Daphne hadn’t been sure about going out with the entire team and their partners. It wasn’t that they weren’t nice—everyone had been nothing but warm—but it still felt like stepping into his world. One, she hadn’t quite figured out where she fit in yet.

But Quinn had leaned down, kissed her shoulder, and murmured, “Just be you. They’re gonna love you.”

And she believed him because the look of sincerity on his expression showed that he would never lie.

It helped that Brock and Bella were already there, making her feel less like the new girl. Bella handed her a margarita the second she sat down and whispered, “For courage. Don't overthink it, just vibe.”

The drinks flowed. The stories got louder. And somewhere between her second and third rounds, Daphne realized she was actually having fun.

Quinn never left her side, his hand either on her thigh or looped around her waist, his voice dipping into her ear when the music got too loud. At some point, someone challenged him to pool, and he looked at her like Can I? before she nudged him toward the table, laughing.

She was tipsy by then, head feeling spacey, limbs warm, and when he came back, flushed from winning and smug about it, she curled into his side without even thinking. “You’re obnoxiously good at everything,” she muttered against his shoulder.

He grinned, kissing her hair. “You’re drunk.” “I’m barely drunk,” she said, blinking up at him with all the confidence of someone absolutely drunk.

“Daph,” he said, gently, eyes knowing. She blinked. “Oh. Yeah, okay. Maybe a little drunk.”

He chuckled, pulling her closer. “Wanna get out of here?”|She nodded instantly. “Yes. Yes, please. Take me to your chariot, good sir.”

The cab ride back to his place was quiet, her fingers laced with his as she leaned against him. She kept looking at him with this dumb little smile like she couldn’t quite believe he was real.

By the time they were inside, her heels were off and she was giggling at her own text message to Bella (“I’m alive. Quinn is still hot. The bar nachos slapped.”) as he poured her a glass of water.

“Hydrate,” he said, setting it in her hands. “Yes, Dad,” she teased, sitting cross-legged on his couch.

Quinn just shook his head and sat beside her, letting her stretch out her legs and drape them across his lap.

They were quiet for a second. The kind of comfortable quiet that felt like a blanket. She played with the edge of his hoodie, her expression soft.

Then, out of nowhere—totally unprompted and very, very drunk—Daphne looked up at him and said, “I think I love you.” It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a quiet, honest truth that tumbled out of her lips like it had been waiting all night.

Quinn froze.

She didn’t even seem to realize what she’d said, just kept tracing the logo on the shoulder of his hoodie like it wasn’t a big deal. But when she looked up at him again and saw the stunned expression on his face, her eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her hands flying to her mouth. “Did I just say that out loud?”

He blinked once. Twice. Then the softest smile spread across his face.

“You did,” he murmured.

Daphne buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I did, but not like that, not right now, oh my God, I’m so—”

“Hey.” Quinn’s hand gently pulled hers away from her face. “It’s okay.” She looked up at him, eyes wide and smiling now. “Is it?”

He nodded, his gaze so full of something that looked a lot like love. “Yeah. Because I love you too.”

She smiled—this big, wobbly, tequila-soaked grin—and launched herself into his arms.

“Good,” she mumbled into his neck. “Because I was really hoping you did.” He held her tight, kissed her temple, and whispered, “I love you like so much.”

The next morning, she’d remember the nachos, the way Quinn looked sexy playing pool, and her very dramatic declaration.

But mostly, she’d remember the beautiful relief of being loved right back.

The daycare was tucked into the corner of a quiet street, with all bright murals and tiny toys lined up next to the door. Daphne parked just off the curb, glancing at the clock on the dash before smoothing her hands over her thighs.

She’d done this pick-up a hundred times—but today, with Quinn in the passenger seat, her nerves hummed a little louder.

He was leaning back, calm as ever, scrolling through his phone. But the second the engine turned off, he looked over at her.

“You okay?” She nodded. “Yeah. Just… you know. New territory for you, and that has me freaked out for some reason.” He smiled, that gentle one she loved. “We've got this, it's just pick up. Let’s go get Flash.”

Inside, the daycare buzzed with the usual afternoon energy—tired toddlers, chatting parents, and the scent of crayons and disinfectant lingering in the air. Quinn followed Daphne through the front doors, towering over the sea of small chairs and artwork-covered walls.

They made it to the front desk just as a teacher—Ms. Albright—stepped out with Logan’s coat in hand.

“Oh,” she said, giving a clipped smile. “Daphne. You’re a bit early.” “Just a few minutes,” Daphne replied. “We were nearby.”

“We?”

That’s when Ms. Albright noticed Quinn behind her. Her eyes flicked to him, curious yet slightly guarded, as she expected the "We" to refer to her and James.

Quinn just gave a polite smile. “Hi. I’m Quinn.” Ms. Albright blinked. “And you are…?” “He’s with me,” Daphne said quickly.

“Well.” The teacher’s smile returned, a little tighter this time. “We’ve been meaning to talk. Logan had a little incident earlier—he was playing a bit too roughly with the blocks again. We've spoken before about this.”

Daphne frowned. “You’ve mentioned it once, and it wasn’t really—”

Ms. Albright cut her off, voice growing firmer. “It’s important that we stay proactive, Daphne. Logan’s behaviour has been more... high-energy lately. Some children require a bit more structure, and sometimes that reflects things at home.”

There was a long beat of silence.

Daphne’s cheeks flushed. Her hands clenched at her sides. She opened her mouth—ready to push back—but Quinn stepped forward, his voice steady and calm, but firm.

“With all due respect,” he said, “Logan is four. He’s supposed to have energy. He’s a smart, curious kid who’s adjusting to a lot. That doesn’t mean something’s wrong at home.”

Ms. Albright’s smile faltered. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“You did,” Quinn said, still calm. “And while I understand wanting to address behavior early, we’re here to support him. Not shame him for being a kid.”

Daphne blinked, taken aback. She hadn’t expected that—how easily he stepped in, how quickly he backed her without hesitation like he’d done it a thousand times already.

Ms. Albright gave a thin nod. “I see. Well, I’ll get Logan.”

When she disappeared into the playroom, Daphne turned to Quinn. “You really didn’t have to do that.” “Of course I did,” he said softly. “You’ve been handling everything on your own for so long. Doesn’t mean you have to anymore.”

Her throat tightened. But before she could say anything, Logan came barreling out of the room with his backpack half open and a paper crown sliding off his curls.

“Mama!” he shouted, then noticed Quinn. “Quinn!”

Quinn knelt just in time for Logan to run into his arms. “Hey, dude,” Quinn said, scooping him up with ease. “We missed you.” Logan beamed. “I drew a dinosaur today. It has three heads!” Daphne laughed despite herself. “Sounds about right.”

As they walked out together—Logan on Quinn’s hip, talking about snack time and outside recess—Daphne glanced over at him. His hand rested on her back gently, like he didn’t even think about it.

And she realized, in that moment, that he wasn’t just stepping up. He was showing up. Every single time.

It was three summers later, and Quinn had pitched the idea of spending the summer in Michigan. The cottage they were staying at wasn’t anything fancy—just an old place Quinn’s parents had rented for years by the lake when they were kids, and now he happened to own and was gonna turn into a fixer-upper. The paint was peeling, the screen door squeaked, and the dock tilted slightly to one side. But it was perfect.

Daphne sat cross-legged on a blanket in the grass, watching Logan build an elaborate fort out of sticks and pinecones a few feet away by the tree line. Quinn was next to her, shoulders touching, arms bare in the warm sun, both of them lazily sipping from their drinks.

It had been a long day—swimming, barbecue, a scraped knee, a meltdown over sunscreen, and then a marshmallow-fueled second wind that somehow kept Logan going until almost nine.

Now the kid was quiet, fully locked into whatever his pinecone kingdom required, and the whole world felt soft and slow.

Quinn bumped her knee gently. “He’s gonna crash so hard tonight.” Daphne smiled, resting her chin on her shoulder to look at him. “You sound very smug about that.” “I earned it. I played five straight rounds of Lake Monster. That deserves a medal.”

She laughed, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “You’ve gotten good at this.” “At what?” “All of it,” she said. “Being here. With him. With me.”

He looked at her for a long second. Not teasing. Not trying to be charming. Just… there.

“You make it easy,” he said, voice quiet. She huffed, rolling her eyes affectionately. “That’s a lie.” Quinn smiled. “Okay, yeah. Sometimes it’s chaos. But I mean it.”

They sat in silence for a bit after that, the buzz of insects and the occasional plop of fish breaking the lake’s surface filling the space between them. Logan mumbled quiet songs to himself nearby, completely in his own little world.

And then, Quinn shifted, like he was nervous—barely noticeable, except she knew him now. The way his fingers twitched against his knee. The way he exhaled was a little too carefully.

“What?” she asked.

He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled something out. No box. No big setup. Just his hand, opening slowly to reveal a simple gold ring resting in his palm.

Daphne blinked. “Quinn…”

“I’ve had it for a while,” he said, his voice suddenly a little shaky. “I didn’t want to make a thing out of it, not really. I just—I want to keep doing this. With you. With Logan. Forever.”

She stared at him, completely still.

“I don’t need some huge moment,” he continued. “I just… I want to marry you. If you want that too.”

Her breath caught, her heart thudding somewhere deep in her ribs. Not because she was surprised. But because it felt so them. No grand gestures. Just love, quiet and true.

She leaned in, kissed him once, softly.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I really do.”

Quinn let out a breath that sounded like relief, joy, and everything in between. He slipped the ring onto her finger, slightly crooked, his hands shaking a little, and they both looked down at it like it was the most ordinary, extraordinary thing in the world.

“Hey!” Logan called, looking up from his fort. “What are you guys doing?” Daphne smiled at Quinn, then turned toward her son. “Just talking, baby.” Logan trotted over, brushing grass from his shorts. “You look like you were kissing.” “We were,” Quinn said, unfazed.

Logan made a face. “Ew. Are you getting married?” Daphne blinked at him. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re wearing a ring,” he pointed out. “And you’re always kissing.” She and Quinn exchanged a look, and she could already feel herself laughing, even as she teared up. “Well,” she said, “yeah. We are.” Logan considered this, then nodded solemnly. “Can I wear a suit?” Quinn ruffled his curls. “You can wear whatever you want, buddy.”

And just like that, Logan was back to building his fort, as if nothing had changed.

But for the two of them—Daphne, with her heart in her throat, and Quinn, with his hand in hers—it had.

Just enough.

And it was perfect.

I literally never know how to end fics... So do not judge the time just and proposal :))

#quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fluff #dad!quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic

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petalbcrnes · 2 months ago

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✴ DAMSELS.

PAIRING: j. todd ✗ gn!reader.

CW: sfw, fluff.

. . . 💬 : You and your boyfriend spend the night watching horror movies.

LINKS: masterlist.

A/N: old rework of my previous imagine.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The smell of honey sweet popcorn lingers in the air. It spreads through the kitchen and enters the living room, where JASON sits comfortably, head resting on the couch arm. He sneaks glances at your figure clothed in his hoodie and sweatpants in the kitchen, where you stand adding a bit too much honey through the popcorn.

Jason leaves the couch to shuffle over to you, arms wrapping around your frame. He grins as he pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth; the little bits of honey stick to his fingers.

“So... you trying to turn this into dessert or what? There’s enough honey here to open a beehive.”

You let out a faux gasp. “It’s called enhancing the flavor, okay? Besides, you like sweet stuff.” You raise an eyebrow teasingly at him, a grin forming on your face.

He scoffs, a playful smile forming on his face. “Yeah, but I was expecting popcorn, not a sugar coma. We might as well call it honeycorn at this point.” He rests his head on your shoulder.

You narrow your eyes. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it, tough guy.”

He leans in, his words carrying a glint of amusement in them: “Oh, I’m eating it. Just saying, if I get stuck to the couch, I’m blaming you and your sticky popcorn.”

You grab his hand and move him back to the kitchen. It's almost comical thinking about how it looks when a six-foot-tall, behemoth of a man trails behind you like a lost puppy.

“Don’t worry about the popcorn,” you mutter, snuggling closer on the couch and grabbing another handful. “Worry about yourself.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Me? Please. The only thing that scares me is how much honey you dumped on this.”

“You said you wanted something sweet! Besides, you’ve eaten most of it.”

“Trying to save you from your own creation before it turns into a monster,” he teases, holding up a sticky piece like it’s evidence.

You roll your eyes, tossing a kernel at him. “Ha-ha, real funny. Just watch the movie, tough guy.”

“Oh, I’m watching. Just waiting for the part where you jump and spill the rest of it.”

“Not going to happen,” you insist, eyes glued to the screen. But just as the words leave your mouth, a jump scare flashes across the TV, making you yell and practically leap out of your skin. The popcorn bowl wobbles dangerously in your lap.

A low chuckle rumbles beside you. “Handling it, huh? Sure looked like it.”

You groan, sinking further into the cushions. “Okay, maybe I slightly underestimated it. But still. Focus on the movie.”

“I am,” he says, still grinning. “But watching you freak out is way more entertaining.”

You huff. “Shut it.”

He chuckles but turns his attention back to the screen.

Suddenly, a loud crash erupts from the TV, a figure flashing across the screen. Without warning, Jason jerks back, eyes wide, for a split second before catching himself. He’s quick to brush it off, but you saw it.

“Uh-huh. You were saying?” You taunt, biting back a grin.

“That wasn’t a scare,” he insists, settling back into the couch. “I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

“Right,” you snicker. “The guy who doesn’t get scared jumps at a movie. Want me to turn the lights on for you?”

He glares playfully, reaching for more popcorn. “Keep talking, and I’ll dump this whole bowl on you.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip to hold back a laugh. “But maybe you should be the one holding the bowl next time. You’re the one who flinched.”

“I didn’t flinch,” he grumbles, eyes flicking back to the screen, a faint pink hue appearing on his cheeks.

“Oh, you totally did!” You tease him, “My damsel in distress, do not fret, for I am here to keep you safe!”

"Oh, for god's sake,” he tries to hide his grin in his hands.

“I shall carry you to safety, my dear prince.”

“What's this about carrying?” He asks, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face.

“What are you doing?” You don’t get to finish the sentence as Jason's hands wrap around you, hoisting you up in the air and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Jason Todd, you better put me down!” You squeal between giggles, trying to grab onto anything to keep steady.

“Not happening,” he tuts, “like you said, ‘I gotta carry you to safety.’”

“Very princely of you.”

“Only for you, dear.”

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

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rosesareredrosa · 10 months ago

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When Laughter Fades

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Mattheo takes things too far with his "banter" and didn't notice y/n's feelings of hurt and anger until one day she decides to speak up and Mattheo has to change to keep the relationship steady

Authors note: Sorry anon for the wait this was randomly so hard

Word Count: 1070

Mattheo Riddle loved pulling pranks. They brought him joy and amusement, especially when his favorite target, Y/N, was involved. She usually laughed along with him, but he didn't realize how close he was to crossing the line until today.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and the Slytherin common room was buzzing with students enjoying their free time. Y/N was seated at a table, diligently working on an essay for Potions class. Mattheo, ever the prankster, watched her from across the room, a devious idea forming in his mind.

He slipped out of the common room and returned moments later with a small enchanted box. Inside it was a jinxed snake that would leap out and hiss at whoever opened it. He approached Y/N's table with a casual grin.

"Hey, Y/N, I found this weird box in the Room of Requirement. Want to see what's inside?" he asked, holding out the box to her.

Y/N glanced up, raising an eyebrow but smiling. "Sure, Mattheo. Let's see it."

As soon as she opened the box, the snake leaped out, hissing loudly. Y/N screamed, knocking over her ink bottle in the process. Ink splattered all over her essay and her robes. Her face paled, and then flushed with a mix of fear and anger.

"Mattheo, what the hell!" she shouted, her voice trembling.

Mattheo's grin faltered. "It's just a prank, Y/N. It's a fake snake, see?"

He picked up the snake, which had now returned to its inanimate state, and showed it to her. But Y/N wasn't laughing.

"Just a prank? Look at my essay, my robes! This isn't funny, Mattheo. You always do this, and I'm sick of it!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she glared at him.

"Y/N, I didn't mean to—" Mattheo started, but she cut him off.

"That's the problem, Mattheo. You never mean to, but you always end up hurting me. Maybe you should think before you act."

With that, she turned on her heel and left the common room, leaving Mattheo standing there, guilt and regret washing over him. He watched her go, the weight of his actions sinking in.

Days passed, and Y/N avoided Mattheo. The usual spark in her eyes was gone, replaced by a guarded, wary look. Mattheo's heart ached every time he saw her, knowing he had put that look there. He had to make things right, but he didn't know how. Apologies had never been his strong suit.

One evening, after searching for Y/N around the castle, Mattheo finally found her in the library, sitting in a secluded corner. Her face was buried in her arms, and she looked up as he approached, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"Y/N," he said softly, approaching her table. "Please, can we talk?"

She looked up, her expression weary. "What do you want, Mattheo?"

"I want to apologize. I was an idiot, and I took things way too far. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"You always say you're sorry, but then you do it again. How can I believe you this time?"

"I know I've messed up," he continued, "but I promise I'll change. No more pranks, no more teasing. I care about you, and I don't want to lose your friendship."

Y/N stood up, her frustration boiling over. "You care about me? You have a funny way of showing it. Every time I start to trust you, you pull another stupid prank. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

"Y/N, please, I never meant to hurt you. I just thought it was all in good fun."

"Good fun? Fun for who, Mattheo? Because it's not fun for me. It's humiliating and cruel."

Mattheo felt his heart sink. He hadn't realized just how much pain he had caused her. "I... I didn't see it that way. I thought we were just playing around."

"Playing around? This isn't a game, Mattheo. These are my feelings. And every time you pull one of your 'pranks,' it feels like you're saying my feelings don't matter."

"I'm sorry," Mattheo said, his voice breaking. "I really am. I don't want to lose you, Y/N."

She sighed, her anger giving way to exhaustion. "I don't know if I can trust you again, Mattheo. You've hurt me too many times."

"I'll prove it to you," he said desperately. "I'll show you that I can change. No more pranks, I swear. Just give me a chance."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and doubt. "Alright, Mattheo. But this is your last chance. If you hurt me again, we're done."

He nodded fervently. "I won't let you down. I promise."

In the days that followed, Mattheo made good on his promise. He was attentive, considerate, and kind. He helped Y/N with her studies, brought her favorite snacks, and most importantly, he listened. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that things weren't the same. Y/N was more reserved, her laughter less frequent, and Mattheo feared that he had caused irreparable damage.

One night, as they sat by the lake, watching the sunset, Y/N broke the silence. "Mattheo, do you ever think about the future?"

He glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Sometimes. Why?"

"I've been thinking a lot lately. About us, about everything that's happened. I want to trust you, but it's hard. Every time I see you, I remember the hurt."

Mattheo's heart clenched. "Y/N, I promise I'll never hurt you again. I care about you so much."

She turned to him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and sorrow. "I want to believe you, Mattheo. But it's going to take time."

"I know. And I'm willing to wait, to do whatever it takes to make things right."

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, a small gesture of trust. "Thank you, Mattheo."

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's presence, Mattheo knew that this was his chance to prove himself. The road to healing would be long and difficult, but he was determined to show Y/N that he valued her far more than any prank or joke. He would cherish her, protect her, and make sure that her laughter returned, brighter and more genuine than ever before.

#x reader #slytherin x reader #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo fluff #mattheo angst

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marwhoa · 2 years ago

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request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.

🝮 “ green with envy ”

rise!boys x y/n

author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?

word count: 6.1k

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌

Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.

But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.

It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.

But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.

Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?

So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.

The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.

“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”

Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.

“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”

“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”

He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!

“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”

Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.

“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”

He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.

“ Mm? Leo? ”

You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.

Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.

Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?

“ What in carnation? ”

There you went, first with a light and short laugh.

“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”

Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.

“—but, beleaf it or not—“

He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.

“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”

You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.

“ Y/N… ”

His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.

“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“

He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.

“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”

“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”

“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“

The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.

“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”

“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”

If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.

“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”

It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.

“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”

As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.

“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”

“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”

Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.

This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌

Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.

While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.

The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.

When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.

Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.

Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.

That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.

The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.

Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.

You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.

More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.

He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.

But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?

It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.

“ Raph! “

You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.

When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?

How could he be so stupid?

So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.

“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”

His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.

“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”

“ Wha? ”

“ You—You! ”

He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.

“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”

Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.

“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”

“ Then why do you like him more!? ”

“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”

You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.

“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”

His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.

“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”

You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌

If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.

While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.

Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.

You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.

And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.

The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.

Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.

The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.

That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.

Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.

Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.

“ Oh sh—“

Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.

Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?

Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…

Safer?

In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.

… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.

The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.

But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.

Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.

“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”

He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.

From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.

So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.

The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?

And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.

The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..

But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.

The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.

“ Y/N, can we talk? ”

Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.

“ Of course, dear. ”

That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.

“ Raph? ”

You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..

“ Raph…? ”

Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!

“ Do you like Leo? ”

“ What. ”

Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.

But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”

Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.

“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”

You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.

“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”

While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.

“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”

There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.

“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”

He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”

“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”

Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.

Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌

The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?

Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.

Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.

So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?

No? Just me?

Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.

But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.

Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?

Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.

But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?

The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.

No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.

“ Y/N. ”

Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.

“ Let’s go,”

Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.

“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”

The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.

“ Of course not, Dee. ”

Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.

“ Right. ”

He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.

The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?

What the heck, man?

“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”

Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.

You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”

Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.

“ Annoyed sigh. ”

While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.

“ Alright, spill it. ”

You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.

“ Spill what? ”

He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.

“ Spill wh—?! ”

Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!

“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”

His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.

“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”

That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.

“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”

Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,

“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”

Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.

Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.

“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”

There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…

“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.

“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”

The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”

“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”

Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.

“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”

Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.

“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”

Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.

“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”

Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.

“ Wait, you do? ”

“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”

Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.

“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”

His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.

“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”

You softened as his gaze fell onto you.

“ Because you were there.. ”

Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.

“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”

“ You were just… Jealous? ”

Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.

“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”

He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.

“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”

Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.

“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”

With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.

Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 9 months ago

Text

"Is there something wrong with me, why do they hate me so much?"

Dick breathes, it's not often now that's it just him and Tim usually Damian is lurking around, or Bruce needs something.

He hesitates, putting into words anything involving Jason or Damian is always convoluted, at best.

Hate is such a interesting word even on his best day there aren't many he would say that about.

Majority are villains. People who have hurt him or his brothers.

Does he think Jason or Damian hate Tim?

No.

He believes it's a mixture of jealously, pride and just overall trauma.

"There's nothing wrong with you Baby bird, your one of the best things that have ever existed in this world. Your my baby brother."

He looks at Tim fond and soft.

He wonders about Jason mostly if he just doesn't see this, or maybe doesn't care. How can you hurt a person so badly and not even blink?

"You didn't deny that they hate me?" It's bitter.

Dick wonders when this became his life carefully trying to sew up gaping bloody wounds that with the carelessness of his brothers will never scar.

He wants to shove it in their faces see what you have done. These are consequences you broke his wings and everyday you keep trampling them. You rant and rave about what has been done to you, yet turn and do the same.

Maybe that is brotherhood cutting so deep you mark bone and not glancing back.

How is it that for all the anger that sits in his chest he could never be Cain.

He remembers after Jason first came, he had looked up the story imagined standing covered in his brothers blood.

He had wanted to vomit.

"They do not hate you, they just are cruel."

It's feels almost like a lie or maybe something nastier to say anything about two boys who aren't men even if Jason likes to pretend to be.

But where is the loyalty Tim has bled for where's Dick's?

"Cruel, is that so different, or worse?"

It's funny the leaps and jumps you can make, to excuse the most despicable of actions.

"You know Cain loved Abel? It's not so black and white."

Or it is and this is how Dick will eventually justify lowering the corpse of his brother into the ground. Will he see a smirk painting Damian's face while he stares at the grave.

Will he look across the dining table to an empty chair sharing a meal with his brother's as they bond over the murder of another. Will his father care or will he be apathetic to another dead son.

Isn't it funny that Dick expects it that it will not surprise him if one day he gets the call.

"Why do I have to be Abel why am I the one who has to Die... Dick. Don't I have the right to live?"

"Who said you had to die, why can't you be Cain?"

Maybe it's selfish or something else but if he had to pick why shouldn't it be Tim.

It's only fair after all.

"Your lying, you would never look at me again if I did what they have."

No.

"I have never denied being willing to die at your hand brother, I have already forgiven you."

#tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfam #character study #cain and abel #except Dick is changing the narrative #religious themes

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scribblesofagoonerr · 8 months ago

Text

Buddy the rat has a nice ring to it! | buddy and monkey: double the trouble

summary: halloween has a different style this year as buddy's determined to go as a rat of all things after monkey puts the idea in her head.

it's not been proof read so if there's any mistakes then apologies!

double the trouble masterlist

“That’s great, bubba,” Leah praises you as she sits down at your little table, helping you pick the right colours for the masterpiece for what feels like ages, “I think that Mama is really going to like this picture when she sees it, won’t she?”

You nod in triumph and hold it up for Leah to look at closer, “Look Mummy! Pretty picture for Mama!” You tell her, the excitement bubbles inside of you as you can’t wait to be able to show Jordan the picture when you see her.

“Yeah, pretty picture indeed,” Leah agrees, leaning over and kissing the top of your forehead, “Mama will be here soon to pick you up. Are you excited to spend the weekend with her?” She asks.

“Yeah!” You exclaim, your whole body buzzing with excitement as you always love weekends at Jordan’s house with her and Blu, “Lots’ of fun with Mama!”

Suddenly, Monkey burst into the room, full of energy, “Le!” She says in an excited voice, “Le, Le, guess what!” She shouts, making you jump a little in your seat and even Tater-Tot, who had been asleep, leaps up and barks excitedly.

“What’s up, Monkey?” Leah looks at the teenager curiously as her eyes narrow, like she’s already spotted something missing, “Whoa, hey, where’s your crutches?” She asks in a serious voice, just like when you’re told to eat the vegetables that you don’t want to eat.

Monkey hears that tone a lot because she’s always doing silly things or so you’ve been told before, and that’s why she’s on crutches right now.

Monkey’s supposed to be using them ever since she hurt herself not too long ago on a skateboard, but it was fun to doodle on her cast and make it look pretty even if she is grumpy now because now she can’t play football.

“I dunno,” Monkey shrugs dramatically, “I dumped them somewhere, like cya!” She waves her hand off in the air, which makes you giggle.

“You still need to use them,” Leah tells her, not finding the situation funny, “You heard what they said at the hospital.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Monkey huffs as she rolls her eyes, “They’re like, not important right now.” She insists.

Leah continues to look at Monkey in disbelief, “Are you joking?” She questions, “Yes they are, Menace– You know you’re supposed to be using them. I don’t keep nagging at you for the fun of it!”

“Are you sure? Cos’ you sure do it a lot,” Monkey’s quick to fire back with a cheeky expression on her face.

You tilt your head, watching them argue about it back and forth which they do a lot considering all of the silly things that Monkey does often, “What’s she like, eh, bubba?” Leah gives you a look, “Silly Monkey.”

“Silly Monkey!” You don’t hesitate to parrot Leah’s words, “Mummy says so!”

Monkey huffs and rolls her eyes, “Copycat,” She murmurs, her grumpiness about her crutches don’t last long before her excitement returns, “You still didn’t guess what I wanted to tell you though, Le!”

Leah furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “What?”

“You gotta guess, that’s the whole point of me saying ‘guess what’ otherwise it’s no fun then!” Monkey pouts, disheartened that Leah’s not in the mood to play along with her guessing game, “Guess!” She insists.

“What?” Leah asks, a little exasperated.

“Spooky season is vast approaching!” Your favourite person exclaims, like it’s the best news in the world to her right now.

“Come again?” Leah questions while she looks at Monkey bewildered.

Monkey slumps her shoulders at the lack of enthusiasm from Leah like she expected, “Spooky season, you know? My favourite time of the year!” She reminds her.

“Monkey,” Leah began as she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, “Halloween isn’t for another month yet. You still have a while to wait, my girl.”

“Nuh uh!” Monkey shook her head in protest, “It’s September now which means it’s practically here, innit!” She insists, throwing her hands up in the air.

“I… I don’t think it quite works like that,�� Leah frowns in disagreement.

“Why not? It should!” The teenager exclaims, slumping her shoulders down, “I’m excited, are you excited, Buddy? You should be cos’ it's spooky season!”

“Yeah!” You chime in enthusiastically.

Leah exhales a sigh while she rubs her temples, “Give me strength,”

“Alexa play spooky, scary skeletons!” Monkey shouts loudly to the small device hidden away as it repeats her request and then the beat kicks in, “Spooky, scary skeletons. Send shivers down your spine. Shrieking skulls will shock your soul. Seal your doom tonight!” She sings out loud, waving her hands around and dancing since she couldn’t dance very well with her injury, “Buddy, dance with me!”

“Yeah!” You squeal, happy enough to dance with your favourite person as you bounce to the addictive tune.

“No, no– Alexa, turn off!” Leah instructs, shaking her head, “Monkey, I love your enthusiasm but it’s not even October yet, remember?”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” Monkey dramatically pouts like she does.

You can’t help but giggle, “Monkey’s bein’ funny, Mummy!”

Leah hums in agreement with you, “Mummy’s a little bit concerned about your big sister right now, bubba,” Before she looks in Monkey’s direction, “What’ve you eaten that’s made you this hyper?”

“Nothin’ at all!” Monkey replies, trying to sound innocent.

“Are you sure about that?” Leah questions, arching her eyebrow, “I swear I told you that you were banned from energy drinks.”

“I haven’t had any,” Monkey protests, “I haven’t been able to get any since you stopped my allowance either!”

“Well that’s what happens when you buy things that you don’t need,” Leah reminds her.

“But I did need a skateboard!” Monkey argues.

“No you definitely did not,” Leah scoffs, shaking her head as the doorbell rings, “Oh, looks like Jord is here already.”

“Mama!” You jump up, your heart pounding with excitement.

“That’s right, Mama’s here,” Leah says with a smile turning to look at Monkey, “Can you let her in please?”

Monkey huffs in annoyance, “Geez, what did you last slave die off?” She remarks, sarcastically.

“Wait” You start to run after her, eager to open the door, “I come as well!”

“Alright, race you there,” Monkey challenges, though she doesn’t actually run because of her injury.

“Monkey, don’t even think about it!” You can hear Leah shouting from the living room.

“Kiddin’! I’m totally kidding,” Monkey calls back her usual sense of humour as she follows you out towards the front door, “Ah what? You beat me there!”

“I win!” You declare, triumphantly as you reach the front door.

Monkey groans playfully, “That’s not fair!” Before she opens the front door to reveal Jordan waiting on the other side, “Hi, Dobby!”

“Hello little one,” Jordan grins, stepping inside your house.

“Mama!” You squeal excitedly, happy enough to see her as you try and jump into her arms.

“Hey kiddo,” Jordan obliges straight away and scoops you up into her arms, “How's my happy girl today?” She questions, hugging you tightly.

“I beat Monkey, Mama!” You exclaim, proud of the achievement, “We raced, Monkey’s slow cos’ of ouchie! Mummy told her off as well cos’ she’s not using her crutches,” You tell her, promptly.

“Tattletale,” Monkey murmurs, shoving her hands in her pockets as she leans against the wall in the hallway.

“Is that so, huh?” Jordan arches her eyebrow as she looks at the teenage girl, “Where are your crutches, little one?”

“Urgh, not you as well,” Monkey retorts as she rolls her eyes, “Leah’s already been nagging me about them. They’re so flippin’ annoying to use though!”

“You’re meant to be using them otherwise your ankle isn’t going to get better now, is it?” Jordan gives her a knowing look.

“See, Monkey? Ou’ gotta use them!” You declare trying to replicate Jordan’s facial expression, “Mummy and Mama said so!”

“You tell her Buddy,” Jordan chuckles, adjusting you on her hip as she carries you through the hallway back into the living room, “Listen to Dr. Buddy.” She jokes with the teen.

“I can’t help it if I don’t like them,” Monkey mumbles as she trails behind the two of you, “I don’t see why I still have to use them. They’re irritating!”

“They might be, but that still doesn’t mean you should just stop using them though,” Jordan continues to remind her, taking her injury seriously as she’s been on the unfortunate end of having a few of herself and knows how tough things are, “Hiya, Le. How’s things been?”

“Hey Jord,” Leah greets the older woman with a soft smile, “I’ve already told her about it but she’s not listening to me, so maybe you’ll have better luck getting through to her instead, eh?”

Monkey huffs and rolls her eyes, “I still don’t see the need for them.”

“How about you let the doctors be the one to decide that, huh?” Jordan remarks, raising an eyebrow, “Go and get them.”

“Urgh,” Monkey grumbles before she disappears to retrieve her lost crutches.

“What’s she like, eh?” Jordan chuckles, placing you down on the carpeted floor.

“Monkey’s silly, Mummy says so!” You tell her knowingly.

Leah softly smiles at you, “She certainly can be at times, bubba,” She pauses, “Why don’t you show Mama your picture that you’ve done for her?” She suggests.

“Es’!” You are quick to agree, gripping hold of the picture and giving it to Jordan, “Look, Mama! Look! I did it for you, Mama!”

Jordan gasps in amazement, “Wow, really? I love it, Buddy!” She tells you as she pulls you into another tight hug and presses a kiss to the top of your forehead “This is going right on the fridge when we get back to mine.” She declares, you have a lot of your artwork on Jordan's fridge and you’re only too happy to add to it.

It’s not too long before Monkey returns on her crutches, “Happy now that I’m miserable?”

Jordan raises an eyebrow, “I’ll be even happier if you lost the attitude, little one. Where’s this come from?”

“I don’t have an attitude!” Monkey mutters.

Leah shot your favourite person a stern look, “Monkey, stop being a brat.”

“Urgh I hate it when you both gang up on me!” Monkey huffs, dropping back to sit on the sofa and grumpily crosses her arms, “Can’t you two just fight like other separated couples?”

“Monkey!” Leah’s voice sharpens in warning.

“What? It’s true, innit!” Monkey fires back, a smirk playing on her lips.

You tilt your head in confusion and look between Leah and Jordan, “Ou’ fighting?” You ask upset, you don’t want the two of them to be upset with each other.

“I wish,” Monkey mutters in the background.

“Enough, Monkey!” Leah sighs, rubbing her temples, “No, bubba, we’re not fighting. Don’t worry. Mama and I will never fight, especially not in front of you.” She reassures you.

“That’s right,” Jordan chimes in, “You don’t have to worry about us being upset with one another, okay?”

“Okay,” You parrot, nodding in agreement.

“Are you sure about that?” Monkey mutters from where she’s sitting on the sofa, grumpy with her arms crossed.

“Hey. Cut it out!” Leah sends your favourite person another warning look.

“Alright, alright,” Monkey retorts, holding her hands up in surrender, “Can we put the decorations up now since it’s technically spooky season?” She questions.

“Spooky season?” Jordan questions, confused.

“Halloween,” Leah deadpans.

Jordan nods in understanding, “Isn’t that not until next month?”

“Exactly the reason why I’m very much against it,” Leah states, shaking her head.

Monkey pouts in disappointment, “Why not? The shops already have them out!”

“That’s very different, Menace,” Leah tells her, using another nickname that she’s often called other than her actual name which she hates because she said it makes her sound like a boy.

“No it’s not. Please?” Monkey pleads, hopeful that Leah will change her mind.

Leah is firm in her decision to still shake her head, “No, Monkey.”

“You’re no fun at all sometimes!” Monkey whines in disappointment.

“I’m fun, just when it’s the right time to be excited about it,” Leah insists, resting her hands on her hips.

“Boo, you–” Monkey begins.

Leah narrows her brow, “Finish that sentence, I dare you.”

“Ghost,” Monkey smirks at Leah, wanting to push her buttons.

Jordan chuckles and shook her head, “You’re really testing the patience today little one,”

“We haven’t even talked about costumes yet!” Monkey suddenly exclaims, the realisation lighting up her face.

“There’s no rush to decide that,” Jordan replies.

“Costumes!” You chip in, your own eyes wide with excitement at being able to dress up again.

Monkey grins mischievously, “Buddy, you should go as a rat,” She puts the suggestion out there.

“Yeah!” You exclaim, suddenly loving the idea of it, “I wan’ be a rat!”

Jordan is the first to react as she snorts in amusement, “Well that’s different than last year.”

“A rat?” Leah asks in disbelief and shakes her head, definitely more against the idea, “You’re not dressing my child up as a rat for Halloween.”

Monkey scrunches her face up in disagreement, “Why not? It would be cool, innit!”

“No, no, absolutely not,” Leah says in dismay over your costume, “Why not something else, like a witch or a vampire, hell even a dinosaur… Not a rat, anything but that.” She pleads with you.

Shaking your head promptly, your set on your choice, “I wan’ be a rat, Mummy!”

Leah inwardly groans and runs her hands through her hair as she turns to look at Jordan for her support, “I feel like I’ve failed at life right now,” She mutters, “Why don’t you dress up as a pumpkin? You know Mummy dressed up like one once, and it could be super fun!”

“No, wan’ be a rat! I be a rat!” You stomp your foot.

“Yeah, Buddy the rat!” Monkey chimes in.

Jordan chuckles in amusement, “Looks like her minds’ made up, Le.”

Leah shot her a look, “Jordan, please have a word with your children. I can’t deal with either of them.”

“Ah come on, just let her be a rat for the night,” Jordan says, an amused smile on her lips, “What’s the harm?”

“What’s the harm?” Leah repeats, arching an eyebrow, “Our 3 year old wants to be a rat for Halloween– I can already imagine the family group chat now.”

Monkey snickers from where she’s sat on the sofa, “Jacob would love it though.”

“You’re not helping matters here, Menace!” Leah groans, rolling her eyes.

“I’m just sayin’ you know, I think it’s a great idea,” Monkey retorts, holding her hands up in self surrender.

“Of course you do,” Leah mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling a sigh, “This is fantastic. I can’t wait to take photos of our daughter for the family group chat dressed as a rat of all things!”

“Buddy the rat has a nice ring to it,” Monkey points out as she grins.

Leah continues to look at Monkey that makes you giggle, “Unbelievable.”

“Right, so uh… where exactly do we find a rat costume?” Jordan wonders, curiously.

“I have no clue, but you’re in charge of this one,” Leah replies, clearly exasperated, “Bubba, are you sure you don’t want to be something else? How about Mummy takes you shopping one day and we can look at the different costumes?”

“Nooo! I wan’ be a rat, Mummy!” You continue to insist, stubbornly standing there crossing your arms, “Mama, tell her that I be a rat!”

Jordan shrugs playfully, “You heard her, Le. I think she’s set on it.”

“This is madness. I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” Leah sighs, looking utterly defeated.

“Well I think you’re going to be an adorable little rat, Buddy,” Jordan said, ruffling your hair.

“Yeah! I be a rat! I be a rat!” You cheer, bouncing with excitement.

Leah stands there in disbelief, “I can’t believe this, here I wanted to be able to post cute photos of her costume this year and now… this.”

Jordan laughs in amusement, “Right then my little rat, are we ready to go? We need to go and find you a costume!”

“Yeah!” You squeal before turning to look at your favourite person, “Monkey, ‘ou coming as well?”

“Not this time, Bud. I’m going to hang out with some of my friends,” Monkey explains, which leaves you feeling a bit sad since she always comes with you, “I’ll be there next time.”

“Okay,” You murmur feeling a bit disheartened with the news.

You barely have time to feel sad before Leah is scoping you up in her arms and showers your face with kisses like she always does, “Have fun at Mama’s house this weekend, bubba! I love you lots and lots!” She says, squeezing you in a tight hug.

“Mummy ‘ou squeezing too tight!” You whine and try to wriggle free from her embrace.

“Oh I am, huh?” Leah teases holding you close, “Well, Mummy’s just getting all her snuggles in before you disappear for the whole weekend.” She gives you one last squeeze, “I love you, my little bubba.”

“Love ‘ou, Mummy!” You tell her as you planting a slobbery wet kiss on her cheek, “Put me down now, please? Say bye to Monkey!”

“As you wish, bubba,” Leah laughs and sets you back down on the floor so you can toddle over to the sofa to say bye to your favourite person.

“Bye, Monkey. I love ‘ou!” You wrap your arms around her uninjured leg and peer up at her.

Monkey grins and pats your head, “Bye little rat. I love you too.”

Leah frowns, furrowing her eyebrow, “That’s not a cute nickname and it’s certainly not sticking.”

“Aww, really? Don’t be such a spoil sport,” Monkey teases, clearly enjoying winding Leah up.

Jordan chuckles from the side, “Alright, easy little one. You don’t want to be giving Leah a nervous breakdown.” She says with a playful grin.

Leah sighs dramatically, shaking her head, “Too late– It’s already happened,” She mutters.

“Too late it’s already happened,” Leah murmurs quietly, shaking her head.

“Well, in that case, let’s not cause her any more grief,” Jordan adds, turning to Monkey, “Have fun with your friends, and please, for the love of god, use your crutches!”

Monkey rolls her eyes, “Relax, I will. I don’t want to be nagged anymore.”

“You know we only nag you because we care, little one,” Jordan smiles softly, “I’ll see you both on Sunday when I drop Buddy back.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Leah offers, picking up your backpack that has everything in it for the weekend, “Bubba, do you have Mr. Bear?”

“Yeah!” You nod in agreement, lifting your arms up to be picked up by Jordan.

Jordan is only happy to oblige as she lifts you on and settles you on her hip and she walks back towards the front door.

“Cya!” Monkey calls out from where she’s sitting on the sofa.

“Mama, can ‘ou play skelet’n song?” You ask, wiggling excitedly in your car seat as you drive to the shops where you’re going to get your costume from.

Jordan glances at you in the rearview mirror and furrows her eyebrow, “What’s the skeleton song, kiddo?”

“Ou’ know the one that Monkey likes!” You insist, hoping she knows which one you’re on about.

“Oh that one,” Jordan says in realisation, tapping her phone to play the song, “Here we go then.”

You clap your hands with joy as the song fills the car, “Yay!”

Joran chuckles and watches you in amusement, “Are you excited to go and find your costume?”

“Uh huh!” You nod in agreement and dance to the music still.

“And you’re definitely sure that you want to be a rat?” Jordan checks in for clarification to make sure you haven’t changed your mind like you did last year, “You don’t want to be something else?”

“No, Mama. I wan’ be a rat!” You state as a matter of fact, “Ou’ said that I could!”

Jordan chuckles and strums her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music, “Alright, alright. A rat it is then,” She agrees, “Lets’ just hope there’s a rat costume then, huh?” She murmurs, hopeful that she will be able to find one.

“Play it again, Mama!” You demand when the song ends.

“Again?” Jordan asks, raising an eyebrow, but plays it for you regardless, “This is going to be stuck in my head all night at this rate.” She thinks aloud as she exhales a sigh.

“Spook’, scar’ skelet’n!” You sing along to the upbeat track just as Jordan’s grateful to arrive at the shopping centre and is able to turn the music off.

“Oh good, look at that we’re here,” Jordan says as she quickly finds a spot in the car park and kills the ignition, “Right, are we ready to go and find your costume then, kiddo?”

“Let’ go, Mama!” You insist, eager to escape your car seat and go walk around the big shops.

Jordan doesn’t waste time to unbuckle you from your car seat, lifting you up and resting you on her hip as she shuts the car door with her free hand as you both head inside the busy shop.

You gasp in amazement as you stare at the aisle full of costumes and decorations, “Wow! Look, Mama!” You exclaim in excitement and wriggle about in her arms, “Costumes!”

“There’s so many, isn’t there?” Jordan says, watching you point out every single skeleton, monster and witch costume there is.

“Skelet’n!” You squeal, pointing straight at the costume.

“I see it kiddo,” Jordan chuckles in amusement, placing you down on the floor so you can have a small wander around, “Do you want to go as one of them instead?” She asks.

“No, Mama. Be a rat!” You say with a firm nod, wandering down the rest of the aisle to look at everything there is, “Mama, me’ need chocolate!”

“Oh you need it, huh?” Jordan arches an eyebrow in amusement as she watches you pick up the chocolate coins and hold them out to her.

Nodding in agreement, you stand there with an adorable pout that Jordan can’t resist, “Uh huh! Please?”

“Okay, okay,” Jordan didn’t take too much convincing and let’s you put them in the basket, “Right kiddo, shall we see if we can find that costume now?”

“Yeah!” You're only too happy to agree to the idea of that.

With a bit of fortunate luck, Jordan manages to find a perfect rat costume for you in your size, and soon you’re continuing to walk down the rest of the aisle, looking at the rest of the Halloween section.

It’s not long before you stop in your tracks when you spot a huge skeleton with eyes that light up red and gasp dramatically, “Mama! Skelet’n!”

“Oh wow. That looks cool, doesn’t it?” Jordan retorts with a fond smile while watching you get excited about everything in the shop.

“Can we get it? I need it!” You insist, using your go too excuse that you find seems to work wonders to get Jordan to agree.

“You need this as well, huh?” Jordan asks, amused.

“Uh huh!” You nod along in agreement with a big smile on your face, “Monkey will like it too, Mama!”

“Oh, you think so? Well, I guess we’ll have to get it then,” Jordan remarks with an amused smile still on her face, adding it to the basket.

A little further down the aisle, you see a wall of Halloween stickers and run over, stretching up on your tiptoes, “Mama, I can’t reach them!” You whine, pouting as you look at her

Jordan lifts you up so you can grab a pack, “Which ones do you want?”

“Those ones! Monkey needs ‘em too!” You insist, knowing that stickers will make your favourite person less grumpy.

“I think you might be right there kiddo,” Jordan agrees as she has the sudden brainwave, “Maybe if we put these on her crutches then she’ll actually start using them, huh?”

“Uh huh!” You nod your head in agreement, toddling down the aisle until you stop again when you see something else that you like, “Skelet’n basket!” You shout, reaching for a basket shaped like a skeleton.

“You’re really into the skeleton’s this year, huh?” Jordan asks, laughing.

“Skelet’n cool, Mama!” You exclaim, picking it up and holding it out to show her.

“You’ve already got one still from last year kiddo,” Jordan reminds you, but your puppy dog eyes win her over again, “Alright, skeleton basket it is.”

It’s not too long before the basket is full of Halloween goodies, from themed cups for you and Monkey, to skeleton themed Haribo sweets, a colouring book, some skeleton themed pyjamas and even Halloween themed hair clips and a Witch-themed headband.

“Wow, we got lots’ there, Mama!” You exclaim, your eyes lighting up excitedly as you’re eager straight away to reach for the chocolate coins that are yet to be paid for.

“We certainly do, don’t we?” Jordan chuckles, steering you towards the tills to pay for everything that you’ve managed to throw into the basket, “I don’t think we needed most of this now, did we?”

“Monkey will like it though!” You insist, peering up to look at her with wide, innocent eyes, “Can I eat the chocolate now, Mama?”

Jordan shakes her head with a playful smile, tapping your nose, “Not until after dinner, Buddy,” she reminds you, as she starts scanning everything through, before packing it in the bags and taps her card on the machine.

“Mama, I’ hungry!” You whine as you hold her free hand and walk back to where the car is parked.

Unlocking the boot of the car, Jordan puts the shopping bags inside with her free hand all while keeping you rested on her hip with the fear that you might try and run off, “How about we go and get McDonald’s for dinner?” She suggests before settling you back in your car seat and buckling you in.

“Yeah, Donalds’! ‘Appy Meal!” You wiggle happily in your seat.

Climbing back into the car, Jordan drives to the nearest McDonalds’ and parks her car before she gets you out again and the two of you head inside the restaurant, “Do you want nuggets or cheeseburger?” she asks before she orders.

You think about the options for a second, “Nuggets! Pink shake please!”

Jordan nods in agreement, placing the order for you both before collecting the table allocation number and sitting down at a table right beside where all the colouring sheets and crayons are.

“Mama, can I colour?” You point your index finger in the direction to the colouring sheets that you want to do.

“Go for it, kiddo,” Jordan replies with a smile, watching you as you pull a sheet off and grab some coloured crayons before toddling back over to the table.

You're happy enough to sit there and colour while you wait to eat your happy meal.

“Look Mama, I coloured its’ red like Arsenal!” You tell her excitedly, swinging your legs back and forth as you scribble the picture in a red crayon.

Jordan gasps playfully, “Why not like Villa?”

“Nooo! I’ Gooner like Mummy!” You declare proudly.

“Is that right? I guess I have no chance of trying to change your mind, do I?” Jordan sighs with a smile.

You shake your head promptly, “No! I’ Gooner!” You repeat, insistently.

“Okay, okay, you can be my little Gooner,” Jordan retorts with a playful smile as takes the moment to swipe through TikTok, raising her eyebrow as she watches a video, “Oh no, what’s your sister been up to now?” She speaks aloud.

“I wan’ see!” You whine, trying to stand up on the chair and lean over to look at her phone.

“Careful Buddy or you’re gonna fall,” Jordans’ fearful straight away incase you slip and hurt yourself as you sit back down in your seat and she shows you the video of Monkey and Kyra doing something that results in Monkey falling on the floor, “Monkey’s been a bit silly, hasn’t she?”

You giggle as you watch the video again, “Monkey’s silly!”

“I don’t think Mummy’s gonna be too happy about this either, will she?” Jordan speaks aloud, shaking her head as she pulls up her latest text message conversation between herself and Leah.

Are you aware of what our kid is currently doing right now? [1 link attached]

It takes less than 5 minutes for Leah to respond to her text message.

I'm going to have so many grey hairs before I turn 30 at this rate with the trouble she gets herself into 😐🫣

“Nuggets!” You squeal in delight when your food arrives and you don’t waste time to tuck into it, “Mama! Look, there’s dino’s in my ‘appy meal!” You exclaim, noting the toy hidden at the bottom as you pull it out.

“Oh, wow. That’s cool!” Jordan says, smiling fondly at you, “Remember to eat your nuggets though before they go cold, please.” She reminds you, knowing exactly what you’re like sometimes.

“Dino’ like Gunasaurus!” You shout out loud happily as you completely push your chicken nuggets aside in favour of the plastic dinosaur, “Roar!”

“Wow, look at you, my little rat!” Jordan states in awe as you twirl around in your new costume that you were eager to try on the very minute that you got back to Jordan’s house.

“M’ a rat, Mama!” You shout, excitedly as you continue to spin around in it watching as the tail trails behind you, “M’ a rat!”

“Indeed you are. A very cute little rat,” Jordan chuckles in amusement, “How about we take a photo to send to Mummy and we can see what she thinks?”

“Yeah!” You’re more than happy to oblige, posing for the photo that Jordan takes to send to Leah.

I know you’re biassed, but look how adorable our little rat looks! 💗 [3 photos attached]

There isn’t much time before a reply comes back from Leah.

🥹 Okay yeah I admit she does look adorable, but that nickname is definitely not sticking Jord!

“Mummy likes it, kiddo,” You got the seal of approval of the blonde as you bounce up and down on your tiptoes

“Mama, can I wear it to bed?” You question, hopeful of a positive answer.

Jordan stifles her laughter as she bites her bottom lip, “I don’t think that would be such a good idea, kiddo.”

“Why not? I wan’ be a rat to bed!” You pout adorably, not liking the fact you couldn’t do it.

“How about we just stick to wearing it during the day?” Jordan suggests, amusedly.

You furrow your eyebrow and shake your head, “But I wan’ wear it to bed!”

“But if you wear it to bed then you won’t be able to wear it for Halloween, will you?” Jordan tells you in a gentle tone of voice, “How about you wear the Skeleton pyjamas instead that we got?”

Your eyes light up in delight, “Yeah, Skelet’n!”

Jordan breathes a sigh of relief that you are so willing to agree to that because even though she agrees to most things that you ask, she has to somehow draw the line at you letting you go to bed in a rat costume.

leahwilliamsonn posted