#drawing because my right arm is in the process of falling off
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i should draw up a relationship chart for my fur ocs LOL
#et cetera#theyre not necessarily all in the same like.. idk universe or whatever#like leah and whatshername setting is its own thing completely#and kat doesnt count#van lily beanie aloe... and lyre omg#i never finished lyres design though. oh and i made a new frry oc yesterday it doesnt have a name though... and i cant finish#drawing because my right arm is in the process of falling off#anyways like bc i dont rly have any sort of story or plot theyre just 'these characters all exist and interact in the same universe'#i feel like a relationship chart is a good idea for that... plus theyre fun :3
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hammock.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word Count: 866 words
Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive
“You’re blushing.”
“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”
You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.
“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.
His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”
“Not even if you hated me?”
“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”
(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)
Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.
Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”
He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”
The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.
“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”
The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.
You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.
“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”
“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”
“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”
He visibly droops. “I know.”
“Good.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”
The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.
You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.
“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”
“Is that what you really want to do?”
“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)
“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.
With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.
“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”
“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”
Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."
“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”
“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”
The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.
“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”
#one piece#opla#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#opla sanji#one piece live action#opla fanfiction#one piece fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#slightly suggestive bc of the comment sanji makes at the end haha#sorry for the delay in requests i was in an accident yesterday and life things are happening so !!#i am posting this which has been in my drafts for a little bit
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*taps mic*
shy!reader getting drunk with prices wife maybe i the club cuz its prices wife’s birthday? and then when simon arrives she’s giddy and all over him
this kind of turned into a drabble because i thought the idea was cute. however i am writing this past my bedtime so... enjoy :)
"come get your girlfriend."
those words hardly processed in Simon's mind no matter how many times he repeated them in his head. with a groan, he rubbed his eyes before he pulled his phone away from his ear to check the time. 1:07. the one time the man tried to go to bed early, of course he would get a phone call from his boss. he just didn't expect it to be about you.
"she alright?" Simon asked as he returned the phone to his ear.
"she's fine, just properly pissed at the moment. trying to get the wife home and it's like herding cats when those two are drunk," John sighed. a fit of laughter sounded on the end of his line, and even through the fuzziness and poor quality, Simon was able to pick out your giggles like it was his favorite song.
"i'll be there in ten."
Simon wasn't all too surprised to find you, John, and his wife holed up in one of the VIP rooms, and if anything he was a little relieved. the thought of you so exposed and not in your right mind around a bunch of strangers made him a little anxious, but he knew you wouldn't be caught dead in a situation like that. yet there you were, sitting in the conversation pit chatting away with your friend who wore some cheesy birthday girl sash and a dollar store crown to go with it. the way you talked and gestured was so... unlike you. it was more confident, less stiff and more fluid, like you didn't have a care in the world.
on the other hand, John looked like he was ten minutes away from falling asleep. his shirt was ruffled, and there were slight lipstick marks along the side of his chin. work of art from his wife, no doubt. Simon couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the mess that had been made, and he was just glad he wouldn't be expected to clean it up.
"hey sweetheart," he greeted as he stepped into the pit.
your eyes slowly flickered around the room until they landed on him. a glossy sort of drunkenness clouded your eyes and yet they shined just as bright when you grinned up at him.
"baby! you came to hang out with us?" you asked as you hopped off of the couch.
Simon watched you stumble toward him with arms ready to catch you, and not even a moment later you collided with his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. caught off guard but still pleased with your reaction, Simon chuckled as he settled his arms around you to return your drunken hug.
"i came to take you home. it's gettin' late," he explained.
"home? like to my place?' you asked.
Simon shrugged. "or you can stay the night with me, if you like."
"yes," you said, drawing out the last letter to the point you nearly sounded like a snake. "i like sleeping in your bed, it smells nice."
taken aback by your unfiltered comment, Simon couldn't help but smile and shake his head slightly. he rubbed your back in an attempt to coax you into relinquishing your grip on his torso, but you wouldn't budge.
"c'mon," he urged with a small chuckle, "let's get goin' yeah? it's late."
"but this feels nice," you retorted.
"i'll hug you all you like when we get home."
you hummed for quite some time as you swayed back and forth, forcing Simon into your movements. eventually you gave in and pulled away from him just enough to look up at him with a sleepy smile.
"okay. but you have to hold my hand when we walk out of here because i think i'll cry if i walk through that crowd," you relented.
John was right about one thing: getting you home really was like herding cats. you clung to him as if you were a parasite and you chatted away the entire ride back to his apartment, and though he was surprised it wasn't unwelcome. things got easier by the time he got you settled in bed. burrowing underneath the covers, you breathed in the musk of him and the faint hint of cigarettes as you hid your face in his chest.
"i love you," you mumbled as you settled further into him.
"i love you more," he countered.
"impossible."
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summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.
> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k
> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)
> in which masterlist!
note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲
—
“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”
you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.
it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.
it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.
however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.
“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.
when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.
“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”
with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.
“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.
“oh, shit.”
in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.
oh, he’s in so much trouble.
he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”
the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.
“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.
“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”
he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.
“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”
with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.
“and we can still do this, remember?”
the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.
“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.
jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.
“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”
and just like that, you’re a little more awake.
“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”
hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.
“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.
“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.
“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.
and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.
“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”
that’s him. that could only be him.
jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.
“really?”
“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”
“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”
you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”
“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.
you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“have you cleaned it?”
“not yet.”
“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”
exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”
“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”
he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.
“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”
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taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook one shot#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts reaction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut
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cw: suggestive content, fem!reader
“come for a stroll with me.”
“i can’t right now,” wriothesley tells you, glaring down at the mess of papers atop his desk.
it was not in your nature to be petulant, but the over dramatic sigh that falls from your lips has him believing otherwise.
though he wanted nothing more than to abandon the day's duties and join you on the surface for an afternoon stroll, the lord of the fortress of meropide was a very busy man. he had a prison to run.
“fine,” you say, though your exasperated tone indicates that his refusal was anything but.
“you’re the head doctor,” he reminds you, gesturing to the stacks of paper on his desk. “you know how it is.”
“actually i don’t, because i don’t do all my work at the last minute.”
“you have sigewinne, who does more than half of it for you.”
“sigewinne likes paperwork,” you argue, settling yourself atop the corner of his desk. “you could have a whole team of people to help you with these things, but you’re too picky to let them.”
“they don’t do it right,” he huffs, pen scratching a quick signature across the bottom of the topmost report before shuffling it aside. “i know this place better than any accountant whose only concern is balancing a book.”
“fair enough,” you shrug, picking up and thumbing through his reviewed missives with about as much interest as one watching paint dry. he looks down just as a sneaky smile appears on your lips. “i heard it’s quite nice outside.”
“too warm,” he mutters distractedly, too lost in the process of estate management to chit-chat about the weather.
“perhaps i should shed a few layers before heading out,” you hum thoughtfully, fanning yourself lightly with his papers.
wriothesley looks up, about to scold you, but the words dry up before they pass the tip of his tongue.
you certainly hadn’t outfitted yourself as a future duchess might, forgoing a frilly, structured gown for one of his own loose white button downs that’s tucked into closely tailored trousers.
it’s with great intrigue that he watched your free hand undo the top two buttons of your (his) shirt, revealing the delicate swatch of skin over your neck and teasing him with a peak at your cleavage.
you catch him staring as you set his papers down, eyes flashing with delight. like a predator that’s successfully cornered its prey. wriothesley - in a last ditch escape attempt - quickly looks away, clearing his throat and staring hard at the report in front of him.
he could not get distracted today. not with so much work to do.
but you, oh you. you hop off his desk, walking around it to drape your arms around his shoulders, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “i suppose i’ll see you later then.”
he mumbles a reluctant goodbye but your lips linger, brushing dangerously close to that sweet spot behind his ear.
do not give in, his brain instructs, even though it’s getting harder and harder to process the words in front of him with every slide of your hands.
schooling his features into a calm mask, wriothesley draws a deep, steadying breath. it hardly manages to settle him because archons, you were going to be the death of him. he’s always considered himself a steadfast person with an immense focus that’d been built up from a young age. when he set his mind to a task, he was a difficult man to distract.
you and your wiles have always been proof of otherwise.
“just be back before our audience with neuvillette this afternoon.” he tells you, doing his best to ignore the heat rising to his face.
finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, cor–
“stop it,” he demands when your fingertips glide across his chest, fiddling with the knot of his tie.
“why?” you ask, voice cloyingly innocent. “am i distracting you, your grace?”
“no.”
you clearly do not believe him in the slightest.
“care for a wager then? because i bet i can distract you by the end of the day.”
wriothesley knows that betting, wagering, or gambling against a former member of the house of the hearth is never a good idea. it’s a dangerous one.
he leans back, arms crossed over his chest as he attempts to salvage what’s left of his dignity. “what are the stakes?”
_____
you know your boyfriend. it isn’t hard for you to wind him up and get him right where you want.
which was on top of you.
or underneath you. it depends on the day.
there were no real intricacies in seducing the mighty and fearsome duke. it wasn’t even that hard to fluster him, because a simple brush of your fingers against his was enough to make his cheeks flush with colour.
you just needed to draw him out a little. you’re on the offense, and you know all the right moves required to force him to engage with you.
in an effort to avoid you and (attempt to) win the bet, wriothesley had locked himself in his office for most of the day. it worked out well for you, because you’d been able to sneak into his quarters holding a shopping bag from chioriya boutique.
your plan is put into motion when you hear the duke stomp up the stairs to get ready for the meeting with neuvillette.
“get back behind that screen,” he instructs when you poke your head out from behind the divider. he’s even slapped a hand over his eyes, intent on staying focused on the task at hand.
wriothesley huffs when you laugh, turning his back to you as he rummages through the dresser.
he’s murmuring the little rhyme he uses to knot his tie, so focused on the task that he doesn’t notice the crinkling of the tissue paper as you pull your new…outfit out of its bag.
“hey,” he asks. “are you almost ready?”
“i just need you to lace me up,” you call back, shrugging the shoulders of your gown down a touch before stepping out from behind the divider.
you turn to show him the undone laces of your gown, watching his reflection in the mirror. he’s regaled in the fineries of the duke, having swapped out his shirt for a clean black one and fastened a fine fur coat over his shoulders. you appreciate his appearance greatly, but even more so when he finds your little surprise.
“is this…new?” he asks quietly, gloved fingers brushing undone laces aside to get a better look at what hides underneath your dress.
it was new. a custom set, in fact. your duke likes you in dark lace and sculpted pieces.
he inhales sharply when you take his wrist, gently guiding his hand to one of the slits in the side of your skirt.
wriothesley breathes your name softly when his hand drifts up your dress and settles on your hip, meeting nothing but skin.
a smug, satisfied grin threatens to break out on your face when you feel his lips brush against your shoulder. you had him on the ropes now. he’s just so easy–
his sweet movements cease suddenly and he pushes you away gently.
“you almost got me,” he laughs, quickly removing his hands from underneath your dress. he grips the laces, deft fingers making quick work doing it up and pulling it taut and tight to hide the tempting lace of your brassiere.
“but–”
“go put your underwear back on,” he demands, delivering a firm smack to your rear.
defeated but not the slightest bit deterred, you reluctantly reach for the abandoned garment as your boyfriend glares at the opposite wall. but losing the battle doesn’t mean losing the war.
“should i put on the garter belt too?”
_____
downstairs, neuvillette sighs, cursing his better-than-average hearing.
at least you’d had the sense to leave out some good tea.
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How Genshin men wake up with you;
and spend their morning with you.
┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓
✰ Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Itto, Ayato, Kazuha, Dainsleif, Alhaitham.
✰ Words: ~3,5k.
✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns. fluff.
Warnings: a lot of physical touch and kisses, reader is implied to have hair, ayato is a bit sus, kazu deserves the world, alhaitham makes kavehs life a bit difficult by choice. msg me to add more.
A/N: this is a sequel to How Genshin men sleep with you post, with two new characters added cuz it was fun to write :') a lot of alhaitham's morning routine is assumed because usually, id try to base it off canon, so yeah ;3;
┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛
Kamisato Ayato:
as the Yashiro commissioner, he has to wake up pretty early. but... there's only one problem - Ayato hates it with passion. poor Thoma used to shake him awake every 15 minutes, at least three times. ayato would just swat his hands away, press his face into the pillow and sigh loudly, promising Thoma to get up in a few minutes. (he didn't)
now that you're living with your boyfriend, you share the same bed. which means a few things - he clings to you the entire night, your limbs are tangled together in the morning, and now you're the one in charge of getting him out of bed (Thoma almost cried in happiness). he annoyingly turns off the screaming alarm and snuggles back into you.
he has a habit of, quite literally - squishing his cheek against yours as he lies next to you. he also likes to nuzzle into your neck and grip you like a monkey that found the last banana in its vicinity. he hums at you and lies down with his eyes closed if you ask him questions or say anything. you can tell by the tone he hums with whether he agrees on something or not, but generally, that keeps him enough busy not to fall asleep again.
i can't stress this enough, he's ALL over you. if he's in his "cheek-against-cheek" mode, he literally cradles your other one with his palm. if his face is in your neck and you lie on your back, his fingers are intertwined with yours. the more awake he is, the more kisses are being placed by his lips.
he definitely requests breakfast in bed. at this point he's cuddled enough, so now he wants to feed you. literally. he picks up the food skillfully with his favorite chopsticks and carefully brings it to your mouth, "open up my love," he speaks in his usual, soft-spoken tone, but it's clear his morning voice is still there. "that's it, you're so good for me. is it good? would you like some more?" hmm..
just so you know: he wants you to feed him too and will pout and threaten (playfully) to go back to sleep if you don't. since he likes to sleep more, there aren't many activities you share in the morning; as a result, he cherishes the morning snuggle and sharing your first meal together a lot. Ayato is always curious to hear about your upcoming plans for the day - but he won't say no to lighthearted conversations either. he just really wants to hear your voice.
Arataki Itto:
listen. he either sleeps until 6am or 1pm. there's no in-between, sometimes he stays up all night or falls asleep on your lap on the couch as soon as he comes back home. no, he won't move.
it's hard to say whether he's a morning person - but probably not; he whines a lot into your hair when he has to wake up early and hasn't rested enough, babbling how dark it is outside and that you're too warm to let go of.
speaking of, he holds onto you in the mornings like his life depends on it - you have to work? no, no, no - just stay for a while longer, while he smushes your face right into his... um, prominent chest. you feel the warmth of his bare skin, his chin on top of your head, his large hands drawing invisible patterns of stars, clouds, or hearts under your pajama t-shirt; he sneaks a few kisses on your hair, humming in contentment when he feels you hug him back with your arm over his own hip.
he's totally willing to make you a nice meal before work though, and wake up earlier in the process. most of the time it ends up in absolute disaster and him taking twice as much time to clean it up. but... if you decide to make breakfast together, itto can actually cook up a nice meal (with "a little of your help"). while the preparations are done and the meal is almost ready to be served, the oni hugs you from behind and sways a little from side to side, nuzzling into your neck drowsily and trying not to drool on you.
generally, he's very touchy after waking up (as you can probably guess by now), so he wants to accompany you everywhere before you have to leave. he'll cuddle you before leaving the sheets, link your pinkies when you wait for the water to boil, go showering together, have his hand on your thigh if you do your makeup, attempt to help you with your makeup which might end up in very interesting results, and trying to mischievously steal some kisses just as you're about to leave.
Itto's hands cup your cheeks gently and he flashes you a boyish smirk; he leans in and connects your lips, purring as some of his unruly hair falls onto your shoulders. he always claims he "just wants to give his little sunshine a good luck kiss for the day," but in reality, he just wants to feel you real good before you depart for today. also, he really likes flavored lip glosses, and you keep buying them, so it's not his fault for giving in to your "devilish temptations"
Kaeya:
the bed is an absolute mess. the pillows are everywhere, his part of the duvet is barely covering him from the stomach down, and probably, he has one of his arms on your face.
it takes a while for him to fully wake up; once he opens his eyes just barely enough to see, he scans the room to make sure you're near him - and then he either gets up or decides to snuggle up to you, kiss your temple and go back to sleep for a bit more.
if it's a work day, he uses all his willpower (read: 30 alarms) to wake up earlier and just admire you. he likes to big spoon you and have his arm over your hip, gently grazing your hand with the pads of his fingers; Kaeya just can't get enough of the smell of your shampoo, of your warmth, of your presence.
before properly getting out of bed, he hovers above your sleeping form - it gives him butterflies to see you so peaceful; therefore, he always bends down and places a few butterfly kisses on your cheek with his pretty lashes. he chuckles lightly when he sees you stir in your sleep because of the interaction, so he gives your cheek a proper kiss and (unwillingly) leaves the warm bed.
just so you know - he WILL attempt to get in your pants if he has a day off. Kaeya's hands start to wander automatically as he kisses you awake (or at least attempts to), and if he feels like a little shiet enough - he might place his cold feet on your legs to help you wake up and have some fun! :)
you might need reinforcements if he doesn't wanna get up in winter when it's cold. Kaeya clings to the duvet like he's about to meet the grim reaper himself.
Diluc:
he has a routine that he strictly follows - but at the same time, he's an expert at being quiet and letting you sleep. he takes his time getting dressed up though - he can't help but cheat a bit and watch you snore.
even if it's his day off, he still wakes up earlier than you. but there's a catch - he then leaves your shared bed for a moment to greet his maids and order them to make you a mix of your and his favorites for breakfast. he doesn't want to wake you up, but he really wants to talk with you again - so he might do that with that precious scent of freshly prepared food..
an absolute sucker for playing with your hair in the morning. he runs his fingers through your hair in the gentlest way possible, shifting closer to you and pressing a sweet, warm kiss on your forehead that he lets to linger for a bit longer.
likewise, when you play with his hair to wake HIM up - he might just feel his heart explode and shed a few happy tears. he's never believed there will be a day he meets an angel like you, even more so that graces him with such affection, sincere affection that makes your eyes sparkle.
Diluc leaves you his t-shirt he sleeps in just before going to Angel's Share - it smells like his body wash with a little bit of his natural scent. He usually takes it off in the middle of the night anyway, finding himself to feel a bit too hot for his liking.
Either way, you love cuddling with it. He's not there physically, but it's a reminder that he made it safely and spent the remaining hours of the night next to you.
Zhongli:
he also has his own routine! he wakes up as soon as the sun begins to rise, quietly walking to the kitchen and carefully making a cup of tea for himself. he drinks his tea slowly, shuddering at the taste; his taste buds overflown with the right combination of spices. he finishes his drink just in the right time - it's time to wake you up now.
Zhongli sits on the bed and brushes some of your hair behind your ear; he kisses your forehead and begins to mumble good morning to you. He smiles at you and caresses your cheek with his thumb when he sees you trying to convince him to get just 5 more minutes.
while you finally get up and groggily change your clothes, he goes to prepare your favorite drink, be it tea, coffee, or anything else. he likes to put some mild spices in it to make your usual drink feel a bit more special and surprising. if you can't handle spices, that's fine! instead, he can give you a small snack :)
he really, really wants to brush your hair and vice versa. it's probably one of his favorite morning activities. he's trying his best not to pull your hair and if he does, he places an apologetic kiss on the crown of your hair. he'd be even happier if you let him style your hair, going to the garden or a flower shop nearby and decorating it with small flowers.
but... if you persuade him to get back to bed, he'll oblige. though, in return, you can't fall back asleep - he keeps you awake by asking you if you had any dreams or nightmares, to tell him about them, or what you'd like to eat.
he asks you to do his makeup! Zhongli's perfectly able to do it himself, but he loves seeing how focused you are on the given task, the corners of his lips going up when he hears you curse under your breath, trying to suppress his laugh.
Xiao:
a morning bird (ha!) just like Zhongli, but he has no routine... unless killing demons counts as one. considering this, he usually isn't around when you wake up :( (not that he sleeps anyway.. 90% of the time.)
however, all it takes to make him appear is to call his name - Xiao never misses it and always prioritizes you first. he might roll his eyes if you call him "just" to lie in bed with you. but it's fine - he "berates" you (not really) while almost spooning you.
there are some rare mornings shared together with Xiao, though; he says he has to watch you to keep you safe and hopes that you won't question the excuse any further, but you know it's something else. After all, his hands covering the rosy cheeks seem to give everything away.
in reality, Xiao's cold heart gets well-deserved warmth whenever he sees you sleep. of course he still wants to protect you, but realizing how much trust you have in him to fall asleep without second thoughts is more than anything he could ever want. he smiles, eyebrows knitting together ever so slightly when he pecks your face all over; his kisses are quick and chaste. even though you can't really feel this now, you know his lips leave a tingling sensation.
he lets you sleep a bit longer on his bare hand and doesn't care if it falls asleep. he's so mesmerized by your faith in him that he just does not care. even as simple as it sounds.
when the tiredness gets the best of him, the next morning you find him breathing steadily next to you. you don't wake him up though, probably because as soon as you'd do that, he's gone off to fight the evil. give him a blanket and prepare a plate of almond tofu - the disbelief on his face quickly turns into adoration, accepting the meal and savoring every bite. after he's done, he kisses your knuckles and whispers "I love you" against your skin.
Kaedehara Kazuha:
yet another person who wakes up extremely early. he opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get used to the light; his crimson orbs scan the environment, and his face lights up when there's no danger around. he stretches his arms to shake off the remains of sleepiness and presses a good morning kiss on your shoulder.
he later decides to hunt or fish for fresh meat - depends on what you like more, but he'd be overjoyed if you let him do his signature dish! he doesn't go far, just enough to still keep an eye on you. don't worry - he's also prepared if you don't eat meat at all! he's more than happy to learn recipes to accommodate and just to simply make you smile more.
he starts a small fire nearby your sleeping form, the distance is enough to make you feel warm, but not enough to possibly hurt you. the crackling of fire wakes you up, along with the delicious smell of Kazuha's cooking. when he notices you slowly awakening, his mouth curves into a smile; he shifts next to you and kisses your nose.
he's trying to fight the grin creeping on his face every time you enjoy his food. really, that's why he does that every time you're traveling together. also, by this point - he still has a massive bed hair. please brush his hair in return. and braid it too - he'll touch the finished piece with a blush on his face and shyly thank you for being so kind to him.
also! he trusts you a lot and lets you change his bandage every morning. particular spots hurt more than the others and Kazu tries not to show his pain; but seeing how much care you're putting into it, disinfecting it, and kissing the pain away when he winces - the love stored in his heart makes the relief appear faster.
he ALWAYS makes sure you're all warm and comfy, especially in winter. Kazu covers you entirely with a thick blanket from his bag, the sole item in it during your shared travels. he's also willing to stay cuddled up together for a bit longer when he notices the snowfall outside. his warm breath fans over your neck as his arm over your waist tightens and brings you closer to him.
Dainsleif:
again, another morning person - but slightly less by choice. as soon as Dainsleif shoots open his eyes, he tries to calm down his racing heart; he lets out a sigh of relief when his indigo eyes notice you sound asleep.
he smiles shyly at your intertwined hands. he brings them closer to his face, pressing a sweet kiss on each of your knuckles, careful not to wake you up and give you a bit more time to rest.
even though you've expressed multiple times that you hate it - Dain can't stop guarding you right after awakening himself. He won't get back to sleep no matter what, keeping an eye out on the possible danger. He's aware that you don't like it - but he can't let anything happen to you, not even a scratch if he's nearby. You're everything he has left. He's lost everything else and despite being aware of the strength that gods possess, he's willing to cross blades with them if it meant extending your life more in return.
he always shifts your resting body on his - sometimes just your head on his lap so you can sleep a bit more comfortably, or entirely, so he keeps you secure between his legs, using his chest as a pillow and having his arms wrapped around you tightly.
"Good morning, my star. How was your sleep? Did you have any pleasant dreams?" is his daily mantra he says when he sees you arise. Next, Dain caresses your lips with his own in a tender kiss. if you decide that you feel cheesy that morning, answer something along these lines: "it seems like I haven't awoken from my pleasant dream yet." his cheeks will flush cherry red, hand flying to cover the blush immediately; even if you can't see it, you know it worked. it always does.
Dainsleif might not be kazuha-tier when it comes to cooking, so he prefers to take you to various taverns for your first meal if it's possible (yes, he's in mom-mode when it comes to breakfast and won't stop until you eat, because "breakfast must not be skipped. it's the most important meal!"). however, when that option isn't available, he prepares you a meal himself. some recipes are long forgotten, they taste like nothing else you've eaten before - they taste bizarre at first, but later on dain finally hits the jackpot and discovers your favorite. while your stomach gets filled with khaenri'ahn delicacies, his chest almost suffocates with the warmth and he watches you with twinkling eyes and the most tender smile.
Alhaitham:
this man. he ZOOMS out of bed as soon as the alarm rings. immediately puts on half of his clothes. when he's about to leave the room... he comes back near the bed, gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, and then moves to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and your favorite drink.
he really wants to avoid Kaveh. he will NOT deal with him in the morning, nuh uh. unless he can make his day a bit worse than Kaveh anticipates...
either way, he lets you sleep 20 more minutes. the exact moment the clock on his wall hits 7:20am, he returns to your shared room and gently shakes you to wake you up. if you don't comply, he just takes you bridal style to the kitchen and sits you on his lap, regardless of whether you still sleep.
he loves pressing you tightly to his chest, inhaling the fresh scent of your laundry detergent and your own, natural one; he hides his face in your neck, closing his eyes. his lips connect with your neck and leave a trail of kisses, while his defined arm tightens around your waist. perhaps that will wake you up?
hearing Kaveh entering the kitchen and greeting you (and mumbling something to him too, but clearly not genuine) he looks at him with a slight annoyance. Kaveh merely lets out a "hmph" sound, clearly unaware of what Alhaitham is about to do. the scribe locks eyes with him shortly before going back to kissing your neck, but this time marking you; the obscene noises cause you to immediately awaken if you haven't, and Kaveh storming out of the room with a blush, muttering curses under his breath. Alhaitham only chuckles as you turn your head to face him, "good morning, love. you've finally woken up. we have to leave soon, so hurry up and drink it before it gets cold like last time."
on his day off, his day starts similarly - he wakes up a bit later though, but still needs his morning coffee. with the steaming drink on his nightstand, he joins you back below the cozy sheets, sitting down with his back against the headboard. he glances at you one last time and kisses your lips ever so slightly, the touch so tender that you barely register it; then, his eyes are glued to the book in hand he's been reading for a few days. if you wish, he'll gladly have you between his legs and let you snore on his chest - you don't even have to say a thing - he automatically rises his arm and waits for you to move without moving his eyes from the book. once you've settled comfortably, he pulls up the duvet and puts his chin on your head (and occasionally rubs your back gently, but denies it. even if you catch him. every time).
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#kaeya alberich x reader#kaeya alberich#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc ragnvindr#xiao#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli#arataki itto#arataki itto x reader#kamisato ayato#kamisato ayato x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#dainsleif#dainsleif x reader#kaedehara kazuha#kazuha x reader#ayato kamisato x reader#pure#.headcanon
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i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." | jungkook x f!reader
summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: fluff, angst, crack, idiots [i say that with luv for my characters]
word count: 17.2k
tags/warnings: a child [Mai] is present throughout the entire story, implication of absent birth mother, serial dater JK, so much pining, pg language, conversation about sleeping around/risking pregnancy, legal-aged drinking & getting drunk, hurtful words/heated argument, isolation, blurb about reader struggling to eat, Mai experiences anxiety [I promise she is okay], plethora of cheesy occurrences, much fluff & angst all because sowoozoo-muster-JK wrecked me
series mlist
this is a repost from my old blog, moon-write.
Thank you to the realest one, @hyungieyoongi, for not only wanting to beta-read this insanity for me when I initially enlisted her for help, but also for hyping me up while doing it. Her editing gave this story clarity ;;
disclaimer: the portrayal of Jungkook in this story is purely fictional & does not reflect who he is in real life nor do I claim to believe it does. lastly, this story is not a part of my dad!bts series, a serendipitous life - singledad!jungkook is in its own universe.
a/n: GUYS. this story was purely created because I was under the influence of sowoozoo/muster JK back in 2021. I am so beyond excited to bring this back and share this cracked out fic again, I truly hope you all enjoy it and just have fun reading it.
“Mai, don’t be so dramatic,” you take the little girl’s hands into yours, dusting off the chalk from her palms, “look-see, it comes off!”
She beams up at you with a know-it-all smile before taking yellow chalk from the bucket and continuing her doodle on the concrete. You watch her as she makes a big circle, stopping to make sure it’s just right before looking at you once more.
“Can you make the lines?” She inquires with big eyes, you run your hand through her long hair and happily oblige; Mai stands and watches you, pressing her hand onto your shoulder; “daddy will like it!”
You chuckle, nodding, “your dad will love it.”
She kneels, taking blue chalk this time to draw clouds, a mixture of pastel colors in the shape of her handprint now adorning the sleeve of your shirt.
Adding butterflies to the chalk creation per Mai’s request, you hear the back gate open, and following is the sound of Mai’s jovial squeals. Quick to abandon the chalk, she runs into the doting arms of her father, Jungkook. Uncaring to her chalky hands, Jungkook sweeps Mai into a hug with no intention of letting go.
“Kiss,” he mutters to her as you walk over, dusting your hands off on your jeans. Mai presses her smaller palms onto his cheeks, squishing them in the process of giving him a quick peck.
“Oops,” she giggles, noticing the chalk she’s left on his cheeks.
“We made you a drawing,” Mai soon forgets, wiggling to move Jungkook forward. He smiles at you, following his daughter’s direction to the drawing. Mai, her eyes an exact mirror of her father’s, watches him as he takes it all in.
Jungkook marvels at his little girl’s work; “thank you, babe,” he says, kissing Mai’s cheek who nods with pride, bunny teeth sticking out. She looks over at you, singing your praises for bringing the bucket of chalk as a surprise.
“I told you I’d bring a surprise if you got A’s and B’s, right?” You smile, winking at Mai.
Jungkook thanks you before telling Mai to run inside and wash up for dinner. You follow him to the patio table and take a seat, noting the exhaustion of another long day falling over him. He runs his hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment before remembering his best friend is still there.
You offer him a pitiful smile, drawing him to roll his eyes and laugh, “what?”
You shake your head, “nothing.”
He straightens his gaze but even then, a hint of his sweet smile remains noticeable, “it’s never nothing.”
“But it really is this time. Besides,” you laugh, “am I never not worried about you and Mai?”
He just nods.
“You’re doing a great job Jungkook,” you pat his tattooed arm, “you are the light of her life.”
Jungkook looks back at the chalk drawing Mai doodled on the concrete, giggling to himself. Caught in his stupor and the innocence of his daughter, he comes to, looking at you; “these last seven years would have gone a lot differently if we didn’t have you though.”
-Seven years ago-
“It’s okay,” you try to soothe a newborn Mai but her shrill cries drown out your voice. You burn a trail around the living room as you pace, stealing glances at Jungkook who’s sat at the edge of his sofa. With clumps of his hair gathered between fisted palms, he’s never looked so defeated.
“Let’s try feeding her again,” you stand in front of him, hand reaching for the bottle next to him. Too caught in the frantic cry of his baby, he doesn’t hear you.
“Jungkook,” your tone is stern and you nudge his foot with yours, “come on, you can’t give up now, get it together.” A moment of hurt sweeps over his eyes when he looks up at you, but keeping your feet on firm ground, you push away the guilt that rushes you.
You clear your throat, “her bottle Jungkook, please.”
He does as you say, his eyes wide as he looks at his daughter for the first time since you arrived. You press the rubber tip to Mai’s lips, allowing a drop of the warm formula to touch her lips, “I promise you’ll love it, Mai.” You try to joke though there is a hint of begging in your tone.
Her cry breaks for a moment as the milk drips onto her tongue; “there you go,” laughter coats the nervous tremble in your voice this time.
You allow a couple more drops to fall onto her tongue until Mai’s cries ease into small whimpers. Her breathing staggers as she takes to the bottle, “see?” You can’t help but giggle. Looking at Jungkook, his eyes brimming with tears of frustration, he watches in shock while Mai drinks from the bottle as small puffs of air escape her nose.
“Use the rag on my shoulder to wipe her face, will you?” You ask him and he does just so, dabbing at Mai’s red cheeks, ridding her of her tears.
“I tried everything the last hour to get her to stop,” he whispers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes though he continues to marvel at the innocence wrapped in your arms. You watch as your best friend takes Mai’s foot in his hand, thoughtfully squeezing her toes before he moves his hand back to her head, rubbing her barely-there hair as far back as he can.
“Here,” you gesture for Jungkook to take his daughter and he steps back in fright. You chuckle, “you have to get used to holding her Kook, I won’t be here all the time.”
“Why?” He looks at you with all sincerity.
You shake your head, “she’ll be safe with you.”
He places the rag over his shoulder this time and holds his arms out. Mai fusses during the exchange and Jungkook shushes her in a gentle prive as he holds her against his chest; “just hold the bottle upright - yeah,” you say as you help to adjust her in his arms.
He cradles his large hand behind her head while her tiny body rests along his arm. He stands straight as a pin, fear taking up most of his expression as he looks down on his feeding daughter.
“Is this the first time you’re holding her?” You ask.
He gives you a look that can only mean yes, “my mom has been staying with us, she left right before you came,” he shakes his head, embarrassed to admit, “I was too scared.”
A soft laugh escapes you, “well, how’s it feel now?”
“Still scary,” he says seriously, “but I never want to put her down again.”
You stand back, watching him take all of her in. A month ago your best friend had his life made - living a bachelor lifestyle his friends envied, had a stellar career as the most sought realtor, owner of a newly built home. He was a free man who could do whatever, whenever.
That was until one drunken decision in the past came back nine months later in the form of a newborn baby.
Swaying back and forth with a slight strain in his movement, Jungkook watches Mai’s drooping lids; “can I do this?” He asks in a dream-like state leaving you to wonder if he really wanted an answer. That is until he moves his eyes to look at you.
You shrug with a pitied smile, “you love her, right?”
He frowns for a second, nodding without hesitation.
“Then you can do it, Jungkook.”
“I’d offer for you to stay for dinner but you probably have another date with what’s-his-name,” Jungkook closes the sliding glass door behind you two, sweeping Mai into his arms. The three of you make your way into the kitchen where he sets his daughter on the counter, inspecting her hands to make sure she’s cleaned them properly.
He playfully sniffs them before kissing her palms.
“For the thousandth time, his name is Mark, and no actually,” you laugh watching the two tease each other back and forth, Jungkook’s attention split between the two of you, “I don’t think that’s happening anymore.”
He stands upright, covering Mai’s ears which only sends her into a fit to hear the adult talk, too grown for her age. She fights to move her dad’s hands but to no avail.
“Bad kisser? I knew it,” he shakes his head while moving Mai’s from side to side. Belly laughs erupt from her small body as she begs for her dad to stop.
“Shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. He chuckles, removing his hands from Mai and kissing her forehead.
You sit at the end of the long dining table next to Mai, Jungkook at the head of the table as usual. He finishes reading Mai’s fortune before they look at you.
“Your turn!” Mai shouts, holding a single noodle between her trainer chopsticks.
The cookie crumbles between your fingers as you unroll the small strip of paper, clearing your throat; “an old love will come back to you.”
Jungkook dramatically ooh’s and Mai follows, her small lips shaped into a perfect circle. Victim to Mai’s purity you squeeze her nose, “who could that be?” You tease her.
“Not me,” she giggles, “maybe daddy, he’s old!”
You fall back into your chair, eyes brimming with tears as you hold onto your belly full of Chinese food, laughing at the expense of your best friend.
“Funny,” he tries not to laugh, stuffing the remains of his fortune cookie into his mouth.
Chirping crickets and a black sky surround Jungkook’s home. You listen to the sound echo up into the vaulted ceilings, looking out of the opened windows. Taken by the quiet that surrounds his place, you shut your eyes and bask in it until the sound of Jungkook’s feet shuffles down the hallway.
“I don’t know whose good side I am on,” he sighs with relief, grabbing his glass of wine on the way to the sofa, “but she falls asleep like that.” He snaps his fingers.
You smile, peeling your attention away from the window.
Now dressed in baggy clothes that swallow up his svelte build, Jungkook takes a generous sip from his glass before patting the space next to him, “so, what’s wrong with this guy?”
You stop on your way to the sofa, eyebrows raised with sarcasm, “let’s cut the attitude, yeah?”
He can’t help but laugh, moving his leg when you finally sit down, “joking,” he reassures you, “but I mean, this is the third guy you’ve rejected and I didn’t even get to meet him.”
You shrug, “like you really wanted to?” Quirking an eyebrow at him, Jungkook can’t seem to look at you, laughing into his wine glass; “who’s worse here? You’ve always had at least one thing to complain about every guy I’ve brought around.”
“The bean and I have a preliminary process when it comes to guys you date,” he shrugs, licking a stray drop of wine before it can drip onto his sweatpants.
“Yes because a seven year old has a lot to say about adults and dating,” you chuckle, pushing Jungkook’s shoulder, “anyway, you aren’t missing out on anything Kook - and besides, I don’t want to introduce people into your guys’ life until I’m sure about them this time.”
Jungkook’s playfulness dies off, the wine in his glass not as interesting as the sullen look forming on your face. He watches you, the way you bend forward, one side of your hair tucked behind your ear while you anxiously pick at your cuticles.
He nudges your knee with his so you can look at him, a reassuring smile awaiting you, “that last guy fooled us all, okay?”
You sigh as a way to say, ‘it’s forgotten…no big deal…whatever…’ but Jungkook knows it’s a stain you’ve struggled to rid of for a while; “he’s been out of my life for a long time and that’s all that matters,” you stiffen your upper lip.
“Mm, cheers to that,” he clicks his glass against your water bottle, “but seriously, can I ask you something?”
You brace yourself, nodding.
“Except for that trash bag, you always seem to find a flaw in every guy you date,” Jungkook stalls for a second, reading your temperament before continuing, “why?”
Your eyes crinkle, suddenly underneath a spotlight, “do I?”
Jungkook resorts to his scrunch-nosed laugh, “are you kidding?”
“Well, okay Mr. Dating-expert,” you cross one leg over the other taking on a new defense, “you don’t find enough flaws in the women lined up outside of your house every day - why?”
He nearly spat out his wine, setting the glass down with hands surrendered to the air, “false accusation, you know I don’t bring women back here because of Mai-”
“Okay okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” you sit back.
He laughs, “but fair enough, I guess we both don’t have the best track record when it comes to dating.”
You stand up, pulling your bag over your shoulder, “I hate to agree since it concerns me too.”
Jungkook walks you to the front door, “I’m curious to find out who this ‘old love’ is,” you turn just as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
You force a smile with squinted eyes, “do you know me at all, Jeon? I don’t believe in fortunes, remember?”
He gives you a quick hug, watching you walk the path to your car; “I can’t wait to prove you wrong,” he says from the door.
You wave him off, “yeah-yeah save the love spiel for another time, goodnight!”
On your drive home, absent in mind, you rake your fingers through your hair. The bright glow of the red traffic light casts over you when you come to a full stop. ‘An old love will come back to you.’ You snort at the thought; they are simply typed words on a piece of paper. It means nothing.
“You don’t believe in stupid fortunes,’” you sing into the void of your car.
But it still makes your stomach queasy. Heart palpitating in your chest while your palm becomes sweaty as you ring it around the steering wheel.
“Let’s not go back there…”
“Hello? What do you mean no big deal?” Nic’s voice is a clear call into the late night, earning herself a stern look from you. “Whisper please,” you hiss through your teeth, “Mai never sleeps well when Jungkook is away, it was hell getting her down tonight.”
Nic looks at you with wily eyes, spinning every which way you turn before she gets dizzy; “oh my god, stop for sec!”
In a huff to clean up Mai’s after-dinner doodle session - crayons strewn across the table and several drawings she made as gifts for her dad’s return from a work trip, you look at your friend with exasperation painted on your face, “it’s literally what I mean Nic.”
She blinks in rapid-fire, sitting down on the ottoman while you work around the dining room. “So I’m crazy, okay yeah. Because telling me that you’re in love with your best friend of a million years is totally normal.”
You shudder at how easily those words come out of Nic’s mouth while Jungkook’s daughter sleeps in your bed. Too young to understand anyway, you can’t help but want to protect Mai from this very sensitive information about her dad.
Nic rolls her eyes, “oh relax, she’s asleep now. I’m spiraling over here, okay?”
“Just, come on,” you hit the side of your leg with the cleaning rag, desperate to get your point across, “discretion, please? This is not information I want to be tossed around.”
“How long have you felt this way?” She watches you in your haste, cleaning every speck left on the table in an attempt to avoid the conversation. You’re steeped in regret for even mentioning it to Nic. It was a confession locked in the depths of Pandora's box.
It just came out.
“I don’t know,” you groan, disappearing into the kitchen before returning with washed hands and deadpan eyes.
Nic twists around the ottoman to face you when you come around, plopping yourself on the sofa.
“That’s a lie,” she states the obvious.
The popcorn texture of your ceiling suddenly becomes interesting when you toss your head back. I need to get my ceilings smoothed. You think to yourself while Nic waits. She won’t back down.
“I remember the exact moment I fell in love with him,” you sigh, tossing your hands up only to bring them back down on the cushions. You sit upright and look at Nic, “but it’s futile to even detail that because it’s never going to happen.”
“Do you want it to? I mean really want it to? Because he has a kid…”
Eyebrows knit together, you both have to laugh at that.
“I mean, you know, getting with Jungkook means taking on a child - although worthy to mention, a kid who absolutely adores you-”
“Please, don’t make me hurt more,” you press the pads of your fingers over your shut eyes, “I can’t even fathom how much it would confuse her - and I won’t entertain this past today. I can’t.”
“You’ve obviously been holding onto this for a long time-”
“And it ends today. Jungkook is my best friend, I vowed to be here for him and Mai as his friend, that’s it.”
“Okay, and when he finds a suitable woman and falls in love with her, then what?”
You can’t help the sadness that overwhelms your entire chest, eyes piercing through Nic, “ouch.”
“I’m sorry,” she takes on a new look of pity, leaning forward, “but that’s the reality, isn’t it? If you aren’t willing to-”
“Willing to what Nic? Confess to Jungkook and ruin our friendship? Ruin my relationship with Mai?” You retort, smiling because this is just too ridiculous to even consider.
“How can you assume he doesn’t feel the same?” Nic rebuttals.
You shake your head, “it’s not happening.”
That was 2 years ago. A night you remember all too clearly but push away along with the feelings steaming inside of you - chewed up and swallowed only to return from time to time like a bad case of acid reflux.
You scoff at the fortune bouncing around in your head, “not happening.”
“What are we shopping for exactly?” Nic comes up next to you, raking through the neutral-toned tops with not much of a care about what she is seeing.
“Um,” you pick out two tank tops and hold them up against you waiting for her approval, “that cruise I’m going on next month - didn’t we talk about it?”
“Oh yeah, wait-who are you going with and why was I not invited?” She queries, noting the way you move swiftly toward the dressing rooms.
You chuckle, “I didn’t plan this trip, I was invited,” you shut the door to the changing room before Nic can follow you in. She leans against it, quirking an eyebrow, “cheeky,” she laughs, “who invited you?”
She listens to you mull over your choices, hearing your feet shuffle on the carpeted floor; “uh, Jungkook did.”
You are immediately met with silence, peeking at the bottom of the mirror where Nic’s feet reflect as she turns to face the door. “Come again? You failed to mention this romantic getaway would be with your best friend-”
Opening the door, Nic nearly falls in when you catch her. You roll your eyes; “have you always been this dramatic?”
She shrugs, “one of us has to be-back to my question.”
“Not a romantic getaway, Mai is coming and-”
“Wh-like a family vacation-”
“Nic!” Your jaw sets and she shuts it quickly, “his parents are also going, okay?”
Your friend blinks in disbelief and you give her a look that wills away any sarcastic comment she has at the ready.
You have to hand it to her, she’s a witty one; “besides it’s kind of a company cruise for him, all the employees are allowed to bring guests, okay?”
“Noted,” she purses her lips.
The silence between purchasing your items and the walk to the car is thick with Nic’s wandering mind.
“Can you just answer one thing for me?” You’re already sighing before she can ask her question once at the car. Tossing your bags in the back before getting into the driver’s seat with Nic buckled up and raring to go; “have you worked through all of that - you know, your feelings?”
You nod, “for the most part.” Nic drops her forehead into her hands, kneading away at her temples and you have to laugh, “okay, yes I have, is that better Nicola?”
“If you weren’t such a bad liar, yeah it would be!” Nic tentatively shoves your shoulder, laughing with you, “how do you manage it because I sure as hell could not.”
You relax for a moment coming to a red light, “Mai is number one here, how she feels matters first-”
“That is very noble of you, but hello, you’re human and your feelings matter too,” Nic adds with pointed inflect, “and I can’t believe I’m saying this but Jungkook should know better, inviting you to family functions like the three of you are a family before he runs off with some random-”
“Nic,” you send a wavering look her way, “I don’t mind watching Mai when I have the time, I love her-she’s like-” you startle yourself, “I just love her, alright? I don’t mind it.”
Nic shakes her head when you turn away, your eyes set back on the road. An uneasy feeling settles inside of her, wondering how you’d managed to lie into believing all of that; “Look, you know I care about you. I know he does too I just think he’s a little blind and I’m just worried it’s hurting you-”
“I’m fine,” you practically sing.
“Okay, so you are now but it will hurt you eventually if you keep pretending like this,” Nic flattens her tone.
“I said I am fine,” you say with emphasis, “anyway, it’s Sunday which means dinner at their house-” you look at her knowing she has a smirk waiting for you. You both look at each other on instinct, eyes squinted at one another, “so I am inviting you to come with, okay?”
You both laugh; “yeah whatever, I’ll join your weird not-family-tradition for tonight.”
Sunday dinner with the Jeons proceeds as usual given the extra guest. Nic prides herself on where she can observe the oddities of your friendship with Jungkook and his daughter. Even she, sworn to never birth children herself, can’t help the fluttering of her ovaries as she watches the camaraderie built between you and Jungkook’s daughter. Mai teasingly stiffens her upper lip, shoving her face near yours while a goofy voice bellows out of her. You roll your eyes at her, laughing before attacking her sides with tickling fingers.
It’s a smile on Jungkook’s face that Nic hasn’t seen before. Spending many a night out with the two of you and friends, she’s used to the suave Jungkook she’s seen at clubs. The way he talks to women, motions for them, how he sticks his tongue out just enough for flirtatious emphasis when he’s curled up with one. His ego is seen clearly across the dance floor; Nic is sure her face is turning green at the very thought of it.
“Alright kiddo,” Jungkook stretches, “it’s late-”
“Dad,” Mai whines, clinging on to you. You hide your laugh, noting the way she tries to fight her sleepiness in front of him.
He shakes his head, “it’s a school night Mai- bathroom - brush your teeth, now.”
You can’t help but feel sorry for her, catching her pitiful stare that has so fittingly fallen on you, you chuckle, “come on, I’ll tuck you in afterward.”
With that little bit of incentive, Mai jumps off the couch, quick to slouch when she passes by her dad, meekly waving goodbye to Nic before she disappears down the hallway; “be right back,” you call to them, following Mai’s very sad trail into the darkness.
Nic sighs, eyes quick to find Jungkook, “so-” her smile flattens when he finally looks at her.
“So?” He adds, his eyes slit in wonder. Nic has always been the wild card with a fiery tongue.
She widens her grin, “I hear you and your family are going on a cruise.”
He just nods, smiling into his glass before taking a drink, “she’s coming too.”
“I mean that was implied-” Nic snorts, “that’s sweet.”
Jungkook chuckles, catching the sarcastic look in Nic’s eyes, “what are you on about?”
“Jeon Jungkook you are clue-”
“She was falling asleep while brushing her teeth,” you come out with a hushed laugh, “practically had to carry her into bed.”
Jungkook tears his eyes away from Nic, both friends staring at you before they force a laugh. You shrug it off, grabbing your things along with Nic’s who meets you at the door. Jungkook follows, his hands shoved inside of his pockets.
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” Nic exaggerates her tone, accepting Jungkook’s hug before getting into the car.
You turn back to him with eyebrows raised and he shrugs.
“Okay, well I’m going to be pretty busy with work the next few weeks, they want overtime - god-”
Jungkook laughs while you struggle to get your arm in the sleeve of your jacket; “the sleeve is twisted-here,’ he says, pulling it out and holding it straight for you.
“Thanks.”
“I guess we’ll see you at the ship then,” he says, playfully pushing you toward your car.
You gently kick his ankle, “night, Jeon.”
He smiles at you, bending forward to wave at Nic who offers him a short smile; “text me when you get home.”
As always, you wave to him without a second look.
“Did dad receive the confirmation for your parking spot,” Jungkook asks while swinging his keys around his pointer finger, leaving a house he just showed, “it has the information on where you’ll park your car at the port.”
“He did and what about you, will you be doing the same?” Mrs. Jeon then asks about you, “how will she get there?”
He can’t help but giggle, his ever-curious mother always wondering about you, worrying that a small task may be a little too inconvenient for you, “you should pick her up really.”
Jungkook settles into his car, a playful eye roll following his mother’s assumptions, “already taken care of mom.”
“Good,” a sigh of relief can be heard on his end, “how is she anyway, we haven’t seen her since Mai’s little school performance.”
“Slow down, yeah?” Jungkook chuckles, “she’s busy too but good, I think anyway. She came over Sunday for dinner-”
“As usual,” Mrs. Jeon snickers to herself, “why don’t you bring her over here for dinner once in a while? I would like to see her too.”
“You really want that?” He arches an eyebrow.
Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue, “yah, my son, you say that as if she hasn’t been an important part of my grandchild’s life. Of course, we want to see her but you say she’s always busy.”
“Oh,” he pouts, thinking it over, “well we have a whole week to catch up so you can make up for lost time then.”
“Mhm,” he could hear the smirk on his mom’s face, “she deserves a break Jungkook-ah, you know?”
Jungkook nods as if his mom could see him, “of course she does.”
“Between her work and then watching the baby, you keep her busy.”
Jungkook frowns, “yah mom, this is why Mai acts like a baby sometimes, she’s not a baby anymore, she’s turning eight-”
Mrs. Jeon clicks her tongue in protest again, “she’ll always be my grand-baby, and you - you’re forever my baby…”
He can’t help but smile this time, “yeah, I know. Anyway, you make it sound like I employ her or something, she comes in on her free time- whenever she pleases.”
“Ok ok,” his mother’s gentle laugh he can remember so clearly from childhood eases out of her, “I just worry she’ll think otherwise.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t mom,” Jungkook sighs.
“Anyway, that’s what dad and I will be there for, yeah? To spend time with Mai and give you two some free time to do whatever-”
“And some family time with all of us, but I appreciate it, I’m sure we can squeeze in a childless night.”
Mrs. Jeon chuckles before ending the call, but not before one more reminder about inviting you over to dinner sometime soon.
Jungkook laughs to himself as he pulls into his driveway. Like clockwork, Mai’s school bus arrives at the corner. He steps out and waves to the bus driver when they drive off before Mai comes running down the sidewalk and into his arms.
“Hey, dad!” She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing the cheek he purposefully puffed out for her.
“You’re getting big, bean,” he groans, faking a backache after setting her down. He rests his hand atop her head, hanging her backpack for her before they trail into the kitchen.
“Your muscles aren’t so strong anymore then,” Mai quips, tossing a quick shoulder shrug her dad’s way when he turns back from the refrigerator to glare at her.
“Smart-alec,” he mutters, tossing a small tangerine at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at him, screeching when he makes a run for her. With several feet of height on his daughter, Jungkook snatches her in no time, throwing her over his shoulder, tattooed fingers tickling her sides.
Jovial screams and giggles leap out of the little girl until he tosses her on the sofa, her dark hair a wild mess and cheeks red, “not fair dad, you’re still bigger,” she pouts suddenly. Jungkook leans over the couch, laughing while swiping Mai’s hair out of her face, pinching her cheek in the process, “what do you want to eat for dinner, kid? Ordering in tonight.”
Mai jumps up in excitement, shouting your name.
He laughs, pulling his phone out to peruse a menu to order from, “not tonight- I have a work dinner, so you’ll be-”
“Not a babysitter-dad!” Mai whines, stomping her feet toward him, “I don’t want a babysitter, they aren’t fun.”
He shrugs, taking her chin in his hand and squeezing it, “sorry babe, she’s busy tonight.”
“Fine, whatever,” Mai turns in one swift motion and disappears into the den, homework in hand.
Jungkook groans with a slight curl to his lip, “yah, whatever…” he says to himself, wondering when his 7-year-old became a teenager.
With aching feet and a dull throbbing in your head, you sit at the breakfast nook in silence, swallowed up in the pleasant darkness of your apartment.
“Is it time to retire yet?” You want to cry like a baby, be coddled like one, rocked to sleep.
Just then a ding from your phone pulls you from your minute misery; a text message.
[Mark]: Okay, I’m going to level with you, should I stop trying? This is the third time in the last two weeks you’ve canceled our date…
You purse your lips, re-reading Mark’s message while the conversation you had with Jungkook weeks ago looms in the back of your mind.
‘Always something wrong with every guy you date…’
You shake your head; that’s not true. Mark is a very sweet guy. He is kind of introverted in a big group but alone, he’s all about you. He treats you well and as much as Jungkook wants to tease you about it - Mark is not a bad kisser.
But…
You sigh as you tap away at the keyboard.
[You]: I’m sorry Mark…as you can see, I’m not great at being forthcoming…or communicating.
[Mark]: no, what??
Haha come on I’m an adult, I can handle rejection :’)
You smile, warmed by Mark’s playful attitude.
[You]: Is it worse if I say that you are a great friend? Because you really are.
[Mark]: Oo yeah, that hurts a little but you’re good, I’ll find some way to get over you..
[You]: Don’t make it worse >< seriously Mark, you’ve been good to me these last few months, it’s nothing personal.
[Mark]: you deserve it and I’m sure the guy knows it already
Your eyes widen.
[You]: Sorry.. what are you talking about?
[Mark]: Come on I’m not stupid either haha every time we were together and that kid called or her dad, you dropped everything to talk to them. Rubbing salt in my wound here, but didn’t you leave our date once to be with her?
Oh, that guy.
[You]: Right…He’s my best friend…and his daughter I mean yeah, I would do anything for her. So I can’t apologize for that, but this is even more proof that you are a great guy!
[Mark]: hahaha, ok I got it, I have to say this is the least demoralizing way any woman has rejected me before
[You]: You’re welcome? Haha. Good night (:
It couldn’t have gone any better, the guilt over Mark that settled in your stomach was now gone, but you couldn’t figure out why it didn’t make you feel better.
Mark is smart but he was wrong. Well…maybe answering Mai’s phone call that one night, while you and Mark were making out on his couch, was a bit excessive? You cringe at the thought…
Peeling yourself from those memories and the barstool proves easier when your incentive is to no longer question what everyone around you seems to have common knowledge of. Pouring water into a steel pot, you set it on the stove to boil for some ramen.
Not long after your meal is done your phone rings with the Jeons’ home number flashing across the screen; “Bean?” You answer, knowing it’s Mai since Jungkook only calls you from his cell phone.
You are greeted with an exasperated huff before she whispers harshly into the phone, “why didn’t you come watch me tonight?”
Choosing to eat straight from the pot because it was one of those days, you bring it into the living room, a grimace on your face, “my sincerest apologies kid. I told your dad I’d be busy with work since we’re all going on vacation soon.”
“Oh, well, I don’t like this babysitter, she treats me like a little kid,” you almost choke on your first bite of noodles, stifling a laugh at Mai’s dispense.
“Okay one - you are a kid and two - be nice, three - where is your dad?”
Mai scoffs with gusto into the phone, “work dinner,” she exasperates, “dad thinks I’m a dummy, I know he’s on a date.”
Your heart drops and with it goes your appetite, setting the half-eaten food down on your coffee table. You move the phone away for a moment, allowing yourself a second to let out a long breath before continuing, “how do you know that, you know your dad is a busy guy, he goes on plenty of work dinners.”
“Hm- again I’m smart, dad says he is going on company dinners when it’s actually with work people,” Mai’s tone is flippant, “but when it’s a date? He calls them ‘work dinners.’”
“Oh right,” you curse yourself for having this adult conversation with a child, “duh.”
Mai laughs, “dad has been going on a lot of work dinners-”
You clam your eyes shut, “y-you know what bean, I’m sorry but I’m exhausted- are you in any immediate danger that requires me to come over there?
“No,” Mai sighs with obvious disappointment, “I guess not.”
Even with the unsettling of your heart, Mai always manages to melt you to your core, “you sure?”
“Dad would be mad if I made you come here, I’m okay, I just miss you I guess,” her voice suddenly drops, and the little kid is back. The innocence you love so much about her pulls you in.
“I miss you too,” you say, “but hey- the cruise is coming up soon, okay? You’ll have your grandparents, your dad-”
“And you, duh,” she adds.
You shake your head, chuckling, “and me.”
After talking her through her irritation and simply missing the two people that are her entire world, Mai hangs up a little more satisfied.
You? You call it an early night, ignoring the dreaded feeling hanging from your heartstrings.
You aren’t sure how to feel once you wake up on the first day of vacation. Having lost sleep over the last week while bitterly packing for the cruise, you thought up several ways you could have canceled before getting to this day. Picking up your phone on several occasions to text Jungkook only to picture Mai’s disappointment. She likely would have shed a tear or two at your expense.
Finally the night before, you swallowed back your pride and zipped up your packed suitcase which was now sitting in the back of Jungkook’s trunk with the rest of their things. He and Mai sang along to a song while you tapped your hand against your leg, unable to keep the smile away from your face for long.
Mrs. Jeon greets you eagerly after smothering Mai in kisses, taking the three of you ahead as you enter the ship.
“Home for the next week,” Jungkook comes up from behind and puts his arm around you, pressing his palm into Mai’s hair and messing with it while she tries to fight him off. You move away from him and walk towards the elevators, “shall we settle in our rooms?”
Mai is the first to react, running toward you and grabbing your hand in the process before the rest follow.
Once in the rooms with Jungkook’s parents only a few doors down from your suite, Mai pops in and out of the door connecting your room to theirs, “we can have sleepovers every night!” She cheers.
You shake your head, laughing at her excitement while still taking it all in yourself. Jungkook comes in from your balcony, pressing two fingers against Mai’s forehead when she goes throttling toward him, “relax monster,” he chuckles, “and not every night, okay?”
“Okay, but at least when you go on work dinners,” Mai peers passed Jungkook’s hip at you making a face too devilish for a child, “I can sleep in her room?”
You’re glad the bed is there to catch you when you sit back. Jungkook gently pushes her head back, laughing, “we’ll see.”
You have to swallow back that all too familiar sickness, “come on Kook, it’s vacation.” Mai leaps forward with a toothy smile, “yeah dad, vacation!” She shouts, wrapping her arms around Jungkook’s legs.
You watch the two of them dance around your room, Mai standing on top of Jungkook’s feet while they tease each other; “duck feet,” Mai says, proceeding to quack at her father.
“Do you uh- you have to work while we’re here?” You ask Jungkook. He sticks his bottom lip out and shakes his head, “nope, just one brunch with a few colleagues but that’s it.”
You despise the relief that immediately washes over you.
Switching into vacation mode proves a lot easier than you anticipated, given the new information Mai shared with you during that one phone call. You hate to admit it to yourself, but seeing Jungkook stick around for the first couple of days provides relief for you that he is in fact, not going on any work dinners this trip.
Shut up shut up shut UP…
Your thoughts eat away at your brain while you sit poolside, taking a break from carrying Mai around on your shoulders like a mermaid - per her request. You were her throne and she, the mermaid princess of an undersea world, Jungkook the villainous merman out to seek her crown. After a victorious battle against said merman, you urge Mai to continue playing with her dad because being the throne is a weighty job.
Watching them is almost better.
Like a shooting star, a smile beams across your face, sitting back to hold yourself together, barking with laughter when Jungkook throws Mai into the air. A shriek of excitement falls out of her until she lands safely in a big splash.
Jungkook raptures you as you look over to find his head tossed back, perfect teeth showing as he laughs with every part of his being - eyes closed, the only visible part of his face is the utter joy he is feeling.
Your heart beats faster, cheeks grow hotter but not from the sun. Like the kind of gasp that escapes you during a jump scare in a horror movie, a memory locked so deep floods your head. You lower the brim of your hat to hide the immediate tears that flood your eyes, relieved to see Jungkook and Mai continue to chase each other around the pool, making waves while splashing one another.
It was a long day, Jungkook enlisted your help with a colicky baby Mai in need. You read up on as many articles as you could before heading over to their place, finding him in a panic though he was trying to repress it for the time being.
With much effort on both ends, Mai was finally asleep after hours of fussing. Jungkook, desperate for his daughter’s relief to the point of tears, you decided to leave them alone in his bedroom while you claimed a spot on the couch.
Waking up hours later, the sun is long gone. You head to his bedroom to say goodbye.
The door is still open and you find Jungkook lying on his side with his back to you, instead of sleeping like you initially assumed, he is humming. One hand rests under his head while the other moves in an up-and-down motion. You stand on your tiptoes and see Mai is still asleep, laid out on her back with her limbs sticking out, you cover your mouth to stifle a chuckle.
She looks angelic - long eyelashes tickling the tops of her chubby cheeks, you can even hear her heavy breathing beyond Jungkook’s soft hum.
“Is it possible to be this in love?” His voice captures your ears but it’s a welcomed sound. You can’t see his face but you’re sure he’s near to tears for the second time that day. Pushing off of the wall, you walk to the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes dart to you, dropping his head, silently laughing at himself.
You pat his ankle, a chummy smile covering your face only to tease him, “I’m heading home, will you two be okay?”
He looks back at Mai before nodding, “thank you,” he sighs before moving out of bed but you try to stop him, assuring him that you can make it to the door in one piece.
“When do I ever let you walk out alone?” He whispers, kissing Mai’s cheek before carefully moving off the bed. He follows you to the front door. When you turn to wish him and Mai a full night’s rest, he swallows you in a hug. You stand stiff for a moment, unable to recall if this was something that had ever occurred before. You weren’t the bear-hugging type of friend.
Even more, you can feel your heart thrum against Jungkook’s and suddenly it becomes natural as you melt into his hold. You wrap your arms around his middle to which he pulls you closer and tighter.
Eyes closed, the feeling of being in his arms is overwhelming and cheesy as it all feels, you have to will the tears away as a rush of feelings come flooding over you. Every over-thought you’d wondered up to this moment is answered.
‘Am I falling for him? No…wait.
Do I love my best friend?’
“We love you,” Jungkook says close to your ear, shaking you from your thoughts, but with them are the crackings of your heart, “I don’t say that enough,” he adds. He finally releases you and you have to pull yourself together in a second.
“Jungkook, I told you I’d be here for you and Mai- no question.” You manage to say, clearing your throat.
Walking away from his house that night, you know for you, it’s all changed.
A shrill cry of your name jolts you awake, cold water splashing your midriff. Your eyes focus back and on Mai who is now sitting on Jungkook’s shoulders, “let’s race,” she says. Without hesitance you jump in after them, pulling a giggling Mai into the pool with you who begs for mercy.
After a warm shower, sleep proves victor over the book Mai begged hands and knees for you to read, but by the time you washed up and changed into fresh pajamas, Mai’s face was planted into Jungkook’s pillow, hair splayed across the white pillowcase.
Jungkook hears you chuckle from his place on the balcony. Turning to look over his shoulder just as you kiss Mai’s head, a gentle flutter in his chest mimics the rocking of the ship.
“She’s going to need an entire week to recuperate after this trip,” you come out and sit on the bench with him, drawing your legs up and holding them to your chest. Jungkook’s silence makes you curious, but when you look over, the look on his face tells you why.
Brows are set straight with his arms crossed in front of his chest, you can see every thought that's running through his mind. Instead of pegging him with a question, you tap his leg with your foot. He takes a sharp breath in, laughing at himself when he looks at you.
“I was just thinking,” he groans, moving forward to rest his face in his hands. Your heart crawls out of your chest in search of a way to soothe your best friend, yet all the same, you just want to hold him.
“I was just thinking…” he sighs with a shrug, “back when I was twenty-one, convinced I was this big hotshot with a realtor’s license and brand new BMW,” he laughs in shame, “ah- then all of a sudden there’s a helpless baby who I had no time to prepare for.”
You remember that time with him; recalling the day Jungkook called you to his then apartment, voice too shaken to explain why he needed you there as he returned a missed call from the local hospital. Of course, your mind assumed he was diagnosed with some kind of illness.
But with the call on speaker, you watched the color drain from his face as child protective services spoke to him on the other end. Words are thrown around like fireballs- ‘your name was put on the birth certificate by her birth mother Mr. Jeon…a DNA test has been ordered so we will need you to come down to the clinic to complete it. For now, the infant will be placed with our services upon release from the hospital.’
‘No,’ he was quick to respond, ‘no-don’t do that please, I’ll bring her home. Can-can I bring her home?’
“You didn’t need that test to prove what you already knew,” you add, watching the way your best friend runs his hands back and forth through his hair.
He took the test anyway and it was of course confirmed that Mai was his; “when you called me over, I couldn’t imagine what they would say and that was definitely the farthest thing from my mind.”
“Wouldn’t change it for the world now that I know I’m a capable dad but-” his confidence drops and you sit forward, bending your head until you can see his face.
“But what?” You ask.
“Any chance at falling in love is out the window-” you can hear the guilt in his voice when he says that. He sits back and you follow, keeping your eyes on him. He chuckles with a crooked grin, “what?”
“Why do you do that? It doesn’t hurt you?”
He sighs, looking back at the water, “it’s easier, isn’t it? Sleeping around rather than risking a broken heart?”
“Jungkook, Mai’s mother-she was foolish for leaving you and even more for leaving Mai-I mean let’s not forget she, herself never even told you about your child in the first place-”
“Yeah but I’m still an idiot for even going there with her, I knew all she wanted was something casual and I gave it to her just so I could feel something.” He shakes his head.
“But one really good thing came out of that, right?” You push, taking your fingers and nudging his chin to force a smile on his face.
He doesn’t argue, thinking of the little girl that is sound asleep inside.
A quiet hum settles inside of your chest drawing Jungkook to look at you. Your eyes set on the moonlight reflecting against the water; “I love your kid Jungkook.”
Just looking at your smile when you turn to face him, it’s a sight that nestles deep inside of his chest; “I already did before you even brought her home but I swear, my heart almost can’t take how much I love Mai.”
The gentle rock of the boat begins to lull you into sleep; chilly ocean air creates goosebumps over your skin as you fight your eyes rolling back, your breathing slows as a content hum comes out of you. Jungkook watches you for a moment, noticing the slight chatter in your teeth that pulls a giggle from him, “come here.”
Your heavy eyelids open to look at him, blinking inquisitively as he brings you closer to him. “I’m trying to warm you up,” he chuckles with another tug of your hand. He scoots down to rest his head along the sofa so you can lay your head comfortably on his shoulder; Jungkook’s body heat is all you need to fully accept his invitation.
“Just so you know,” he clears his throat, “because I know how my kid is,” Jungkook’s voice sounds like a subtle purr, “she loves you too.”
Caught in a haze of exhaustion and more emotion than your heart can handle, you nuzzle against Jungkook’s shoulder, willing yourself to fall asleep with those sentiments in mind.
On the cusp of a deep sleep, you swear you feel Jungkook press his lips to the top of your head as he carries you off into the room.
When you wake up in the morning, you’re immediately aware this is not your bed though it isn’t entirely unfamiliar. Your heart launches in your throat as you sit up on your elbows, eyes pressed shut.
Okay now!
They pop open, your initial concern to find Jungkook lying there settles when you see Mai at your side. Her long raven hair strung across her face.
A snore causes you to jump; awakened by his snore, Jungkook looks at you with one eye open, his body contorted to the size of the narrow cot meant for Mai. His feet dangling off the edge.
“You could have slept in my bed,” you snort.
He sits up, the sheet falling off to reveal his rippled chest and abs. You’ve seen his muscles several times, but the setting is far too intimate this time. You have to look away, pulling Mai’s hair off of her face. Jungkook stands and stretches, “it was nice falling asleep to you guys’ breathing- peaceful,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.
The days go by too fast. Each one was filled with various activities tailored to Mai as she enjoyed the time with her grandparents. On several occasions, she couldn’t help but announce how happy she was to have her favorite people with her all at the same time.
Although, on the second to last night, you fail to ignore when Jungkook doesn’t return from that brunch as soon as he assured Mai he would, showing up early in the evening sans tie and a fresh mark on the side of his neck.
He comes lazily into your room after a shower, greeted by Mai with open arms, “where were you?” She asks, pressing her face into his side.
“I’m sorry.” His answer is short and hardly an answer. You turn away to hide your disappointment, closing the coloring book Mai was using and putting away her crayons; “your parents said you had unexpected business come up after brunch?” You ask.
He looks at you and nods.
Liar.
“But look bean,” he picks Mai up, conveniently placing her where she can’t point out the hickey, “you’re going to dinner alone with grandma and grandpa tonight, okay?” Mai throws her head back, “you’re abandoning me again?”
You can’t help but laugh, curiosity pushing away the heaviness in your chest, “wait, why?”
Jungkook looks at Mai, “cover your ears.”
“But-”
He curls an eyebrow at her and with a loud scoff, she does as he says.
“They want us to have a night out. We can go to the club downstairs - dancing and drinks?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
You shake your head, laughing while your resolve not to give in slips away, “I have a dress that deserves to be seen, might as well.”
While Jungkook spends the last few hours of daylight with Mai, you don’t waste any time and get ready. It isn’t often you can pamper yourself like this; hair laid sleek against your back, taking time on your makeup to ensure its lasting quality because you plan to dance away the troubles of your heart.
Just as you buckle the other strap to your heel, there’s a knock at the main door of your room. You peer into Jungkook and Mai’s room through the connecting door which has remained open the majority of the trip, remembering he left just a few minutes before to drop Mai off at his parents’ room.
You open it without much thought, stumbling back when you come face to face with your best friend. He catches you by the wrist, chuckling.
His hair is combed with an effortless side part, thick bangs swept on either side of his forehead. His patterned buttoned-down stands out though the short sleeves allow his tattoos to be on display. White slacks and a new pair of shoes adorn his lower half while a touch of gold jewelry ties it all together. Pushing your figurative tongue back into your mouth, you offer a simple compliment before stepping out.
Going unnoticed is the way Jungkook’s eyes slink over your figure, selfishly detailing in his memory how your dress fits you in all the right places.
“Hurry up slowpoke,” you call to him, already halfway down the hallway. He looks at you, wondering if you’ve caught him staring. You choose to turn away before he can see the smirk on your face.
Music booms around you while a colorful group of people aged from 21 to 90 fills the space for a final night of hoorah as you settle at the bar. Your feet are already aching after Jungkook pulled you straight onto the dance floor when you initially arrived. Having clubbed with him on many occasions, you aren’t surprised by his rhythm and ease in gyrating his hips to the music. Perhaps a little closer to you than you are used to, but you’ll allow a pass tonight. And really, are you complaining?
No. But you choose to ignore that voice in your head.
Jungkook is looking around until he finds your eyes. You blink, clearing your throat, “I have a confession.” He scoots in closer so he can hear you better, eyes dropping to meet yours. Stirring in his seat, you wonder if he’s fidgeting out of discomfort.
Liquid courage pushes you to continue, “I broke into my minibar and had a little pre-game before you came,” you admit. Jungkook drops his head and laughs at you again. His eyes squint beneath a beaming smile, you practically choke at how beautiful he looks, “y-you might have to carry me back to my room later.” Your tongue suddenly feels numb as you stumble over your words.
He nods, “you deserve to let loose,” his expression takes on more sincerity, “you do so much for me and Mai.���
If not for the mood lighting flashing in various colors, you swear Jungkook’s face is flushed. His blinks are slow and you wonder when he’ll stop looking at you like that-
“Here you are.” The bartender barrages in with your drinks. You jump slightly while Jungkook thanks the man, a straight line forming his lips.
After two shots and another finished drink, Jungkook is ready to dance into the wee hours of the morning. Head caught in a constant loop after those shots, you insist he goes on his own. Just then a woman’s voice appears close to your ear, causing you to jump back. Jungkook looks to where you are with some sort of a smile appearing on his face but you can hardly make it out through a hazy gaze.
He’s saying your name and you make every effort to concentrate, “this is my colleague, Rosie.”
Rosie smiles at you but you notice more the way her hands are wrapped around Jungkook’s bicep and then the way she moves her hand to smooth across his shoulders, tucking her fingers beneath his collar.
Rosie from brunch. You smile, “nice to meet you.” You can’t help when your eyes ghost over the mark on Jungkook’s neck once more, the one you’ve had to pretend wasn’t there the entire night.
“Likewise,” she hardly spares you a second look before her eyes are glued to Jungkook’s, “let’s go dance.”
Jungkook sets his attention on you when you stand, making it a point to plant your feet firmly on the ground, “go, I need to use the restroom.”
Rosie wastes no time and pulls Jungkook away.
You groan, staring at yourself in the mirror, eyes weighed down with one too many drinks though you’re still able to stand on your own. That deserves a pat on the back along with your determination to not allow this night to go sour as you make your way out to the dance floor once more.
But it all comes to a screeching halt when you spot Rosie and Jungkook, even more, the way his lips hover dangerously close over the skin of her neck, his hand smoothing over her waist. Their bodies are pressed together as they dance with not an inch of breathing space to spare between the two.
You can’t help the fire that rages through you though tears sting your eyes. Before he can see, given he even looks up for one minute, you make a desperate escape towards the exit.
Stupid..so stupid. Stupid on a monumental level. What did you think was going to happen-he’d magically fall in love with you on this trip? Yes…NO.
You sniffle as you rub the heels of your feet, skin red from the pain inflicted by your choice of footwear. Even after a long shower, scrubbing the black makeup off your eyes that melted onto the bags that are now present - you can’t shake the aching in your chest.
“Ugh,” you groan, tossing yourself back onto your bed. Hair still sopping wet from your shower and dressed in your comfiest pajamas, nothing could soothe you at this point. Mind still swimming in a drunken state, you wish you could just black out already.
Click.
The door to Jungkook and Mai’s room closes. You shoot up into a sitting position once more, immediately regretting that. Jungkook peers in through that middle door, chuckling at you and a little less drunk than you. He always held his liquor better than you did.
That fire flickers in you once more, so slight but it causes you to twitch. You can’t un-notice it, even when you look away for a moment while he moves over to you. His hair is a mess, shirt hastily buttoned, and the collar is tinted pink, not to mention the faded lipstick marks around his jaw. He steps any closer to you and you could name the brand of perfume she was wearing.
“Club closed like two hours ago,” your words are still a bit slurred. Jungkook just chuckles, “yeah, I’m beat.” You shake your head while he moves back in the direction of his room.
“Old habits die hard,” you mutter venomously.
Jungkook cocks his head, taken aback, “what?”
You straighten your shoulders when he looks at you, “are you really going to risk putting yourself in this same situation again? Just for a one-night stand? Have you forgotten how Mai came into the picture?” The deep frown on your face is hardly enough to hide how you swallow back the gasp following your accusation. The dagger you’ve pierced him with digs into his back while a crushing pain swallows him whole, you can see the crumbling beneath your best friend’s eyes.
His cheeks grow red when he turns back towards the door, “go to sleep,” he mumbles in a tone that has the ground shaking, tossing his room key to the side, “you’re drunk.”
You flinch when he slams the door shut.
The swaying of the boat doesn’t help the unsettling waves in your stomach and throbbing head. Even with the new presence of another person on the balcony, your head remains cradled in your hands.
“Here,” Jungkook says in a low tone but it still makes your head throb. He reaches out to you with a water bottle in hand, “and take these.”
You peer up, the torturous rays of the sun hurt your eyes. You shake your head. Jungkook smacks his tongue in disapproval, taking up the bottom space of the lounging chair you're sitting on. He opens the bottle for you and brings it up to your lips, “stubbornness won’t make you feel better, drink.”
“Oh god, please don’t say that word,” you retch, taking a sip. Another second later Jungkook pops the two aspirin into your mouth, assisting you with another swig of water.
The rushing waves settle around you but the awkward silence can be cut with the dagger Jungkook was still holding onto. He sighs, looking away from the wooden deck of the balcony.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so drunk before,” he says. The strained laughter that follows makes your chest grow hot along with the heaviness in his tone.
You feel his gaze fall over you and you finally look up at him, removing your sunglasses. He doesn’t tear his attention away from you, waiting to see if you’ll do anything, say anything.
“Do you remember-”
You’re nodding before he can finish his sentence, “I remember what I said.” You wish you didn’t, probably even more than Jungkook wishes he never heard it.
Jungkook sits there a little bit stunned, straightening his back and you can see the frown grow on his brow, “not that I owe you any explanation - I didn’t sleep with her, we just - I don’t know I just couldn’t-”
You question him with your eyes, “you’re right Jungkook, you don’t need to explain anything to me, we’re both adults.” You cut him off before it can hurt anymore, irritation lining your tone which Jungkook picks up on the latter. Somehow he still misses the longing behind your eyes.
“How about some leniency? I’m trying to be nice even though you insulted me last night-”
“You don’t have to be nice to me, I was out of line so let’s just drop it. I’m sorry for ever saying anything-”
“Will you let me care about you?” He snaps back. It catches you off guard, even when he’s been angry in the past, he’s never snapped at anybody. But the shock isn’t enough to stop you from feeling angry too.
“What are you talking-if this is you caring about me then please, spare me. I mean y-you came back to the room like nothing-” you groan out of frustration, swinging your legs over the lounge chair to stand up. The uneven weight nearly sends Jungkook to the ground but he manages to catch himself.
“Like nothing-what?” Jungkook follows you into your room.
“Nothing Jungkook, nothing happened, that’s what I mean. And you know what, nothing is ever going to happen,” you mutter, tossing clothes into your opened suitcase.
He grasps for the words falling from your mouth, managing to hear every last one, “what do you mean?”
You shake your head, “look let’s just give each other space, yeah? We only have today left so let me just do what you brought me here to do - let me do what I do best apparently.”
The riddled expression on his face only makes you grow more impatient for him to leave you alone; “that’s why I’m here right Jungkook - to take care of Mai while you rendezvous? I’m just a babysitter for Mai - that’s all I’ve ever been to you since she was born, right?”
His eyes grow cold while your words only chip away at him more and more, “you’re my best friend, I invited you to come because you’re like family-”
“Oh, just stop!” You twist pieces of your clothing between angry fists, “stop doing this to me-stop saying those things to me, stop cuddling with me like we’re-we-” you’re sputtering on the edge of stone-cold tears, “you just-you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Then tell me,” he urges you, “for God’s sake talk to me instead of pushing me away-”
“Jungkook, I love you,” you cry desperately, your body sinking, “I-I love you, and I can’t do it anymore.” You collapse onto the edge of your bed, praying the tears will go away so you can get a coherent thought out, shaking your head.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook.” You weep quietly.
All he can do is whisper your name to break the deafening silence.
“Just leave,” you look at him with red, tear-filled eyes, “please.”
“But we should talk-”
“I won’t do this anymore…I just can’t,” you can’t stop crying, “please leave.”
There isn’t anything more heart-breaking than when the door shuts behind your best friend, you are left alone to steep in the figurative mess left around you. A storm rages your mind while tear after tear continues to fall, even when you occupy yourself with stuffing everything into your suitcase. Some hours pass when you’re still in your room, suitcase packed. You can hear Mai enter their room, voice muffled behind the closed door she was so used to being open.
Follows is a stern call of her name from Jungkook just before the doorknob turns but abruptly stops along with your heart. You can hear her asking him why before you assume he pulls her away from the door.
You force your eyes shut, pressing your tear-stained face into your pillow and praying the last day on this god-awful ship will magically be over when you open your eyes again. Body exhausted from the emotional day, you feel yourself sink into darkness until all subconscious thought disappears.
It was a fight to get Mai to understand why you weren’t going home with them the next morning. You never lied to her. Not once in all of these years. Not until today when you told her it had to do with work, that was why. She slumped into her grandma’s hug before going over to the car per Jungkook’s request who was standing near you.
“Jungkook, I just want to go home and I already called an Uber so-”
He just nods but you can see the hurt in his eyes, “will you text me-us? Text us when you get home?”
You look down at your phone, “I-um- I need to go over to the waiting area where I’ll be picked up, thanks for inviting me.” With that, you’re turning away before he can even breathe a second time. Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from you, watching you walk away, wanting to watch you until you're a speck in the distance.
“Mai is buckled in Jungkook-ah.” His dad calls him away before he can do any of that.
His thoughts spiral on the drive back home.
‘I can’t do this anymore…I won’t do this.’ Your words play like a broken movie reel in his mind. A sick feeling settles in Jungkook’s stomach; a strong taste of bile rises in his throat as he wonders if you mean it.
The days following begin to fuse into the next before you realize two weeks have gone by. Two weeks of missed phone calls from Jungkook but even more painful are the missed calls from their house phone.
Mai.
You have to hold your stomach every time you think of Mai. The innocent one caught between two adults she thinks the world of, the only two who are her entire world. It’s enough to make you want to lose all contents of your stomach which hasn’t been much lately. Getting by on a couple of sips from your morning tea and a bite or two of unbuttered sourdough bread before heading off to work.
Everything has lost its taste, life as you know it has lost flavor.
You always enjoyed work, as stressful as it could be at times. But it was becoming your mute therapist because you couldn’t talk about the things warring your mind. They just bottled inside of you, one after the other; when would it finally implode?
Three knocks sound at your front door and you jump away from the counter, a small plate with a sad sandwich placed on top of it. You abandon it, you’re sure the bread is starting to mold anyway. Poking your head around the corner, your eyes are wide as they stare down the narrow hallway. The runner in the center of the floor is left askew, shoes tossed under the hallway table cluttered with your keys and three days of mail; everything is left unopened.
The doorbell screeches like a hungry crow; you yelp a curse before clamping your hand over your mouth. There’s no way he has the gull to show up at your house…
A muffled call of your name sounds on the other side of the door followed by rapid presses of the doorbell.
It’s Nic.
You sigh, moving down the hallway as quickly as you can before tearing the door open. Nic stands there with her arm up, her hand fisted ready to knock on the door, “well, hello stranger!” Her voice is laced with sarcasm and a toothy smile to boot. She’s already setting her things down on the small breakfast nook that separates the kitchen from the living room, she follows your every move until you’re standing on the opposite side of the counter, a waiting expression sits on her face.
“Wine?” She asks. You’re impressed when she pulls a long bottle out of her purse, something like Mary Poppins would do if she wasn’t so cheerful.
You shake your head, pushing the bottle back into her bag, “I’m cutting myself off forever.”
“Ah,” she nods knowingly and it’s confirmation enough that she is aware of the revelation that occurred on the cruise. You know he called her and asked her to check on you.
You lean onto the counter and Nic does the same after propping herself up on a barstool, “he sent you,” you state rather than ask. You know your best friends through and through. And beneath your broken pride and splitting heart, you can admit that they know you just the same.
Instead of a joke, she just purses her lips and offers you an apologetic smile, “he did.”
You shrug, resting your hand under your chin. The two of you continue in a stare-off that holds a thousand words between your shaking eyes and Nic’s patient ones. She doesn’t press you like you’re used to, but perhaps that’s because she can see the sheen across your eyes or the way you keep swallowing back the lump in your throat.
Nic, opinionated in all her ways and always managing to impose them on the ones she holds near and dear, bites her bottom lip when you close your eyes only for a few tears to fall shortly after.
She clears her throat, pressing a tissue into your hand while your head hangs low; “you should talk to him, babe.”
You’re shaking your head and Nic sighs, biting back her words until you pick your head up to look at her.
She’s careful but direct; “So that’s it, you just cut him off? For how long are you planning on doing that - for forever?” Nic knows how ridiculous that sounds. Even more than when you swore you would take your once secret love for Jungkook to the grave.
“That’s the plan,” you croak, pressing the tissue over your eyes so it can soak up your tears.
“And Mai?” Nic retorts.
Your hands drop onto the counter along with your stomach; there’s no answer for that.
“Custody isn’t necessarily a thing between friends-”
“Nic,” you give her a stern look and she apologizes.
“Look, you don’t need me to say this because I know you, and I know how much you love Mai,” Nic’s tone sounds desperate for you to hear her, “but I’m going to say it anyway - I get seeing him and talking to him sounds incredibly painful, but are you really willing to lose that little girl’s trust? I mean anyone can see that she worships the ground you walk on,” Nic can’t help but chuckle but her seriousness never fades, “if you decide never to talk to them again, that-” Nic pushes her pointer finger onto the countertop, “that will be excruciating for her…” The second to pause allows you to feel the final crushing of your heart before Nic finishes.
“You can’t make this choice for her and not be in her life all of a sudden just because you want to run away from reality - Mai is just as much in this painful reality with you and Jungkook.”
You hate how right she is. You hate that Nic has taken every single word out of your mouth and made sense of it.
The sun is setting over the city as Jungkook continues to stare out the window of his office. It’s the end of a long workday. He’s tired after showing several houses from one end of the boulevard to the other. His feet hurt, his neck is aching, and he’s sick of wearing this stupid suit.
But he can’t think of anything else. He can’t think of anyone else. All he can think about is you. Sick with worry about his daughter who has no understanding of what’s happened. She’s asked to sleep with him every night for the past two weeks, it was the only thing that could soothe her anxiety. He wanted to be mad at you for cutting Mai off. Himself, he could understand, but Mai? Then again, he wondered how much he was to blame too. Did he unintentionally put his daughter in this spot? Going out with a different woman at least a few nights a week, asking you to babysit Mai every time? If he had just been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.
He scoffs at himself, ripping his tie from around his neck and tossing it onto his desk. Of course, idiot, if you just confessed years ago, this wouldn’t be happening. Mai wouldn’t be experiencing her first heartbreak at seven years old. Selfishly, he wouldn’t have had to see the hurt that split you right down the middle when he waltzed in that night covered in another woman’s touch.
All the times you saw him that way.
Idiot. He has to laugh. Idiot doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Hi baby,” Jungkook sweeps Mai into his arms when he finally arrives home, relieving the babysitter. Mai rests her head on his shoulder, pressing the moles she can see on his face with her finger. He’s not used to her being so quiet.
It’s late; way past her bedtime.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Mai sighs into his shoulder.
“I know,” he rubs her back, walking into her bedroom. Maybe she could manage it tonight. Mai doesn’t fight it, climbing under her comforter when Jungkook pulls it back for her. He sits on the floor next to her bed, knees curled up to his chest, he looks back at Mai whose eyes glisten under the glow of the starry night light, “guess we need to talk, huh?” She asks.
Jungkook chuckles, pinching her cheek, “shoot.”
Mai’s eyelashes flutter when she looks away, “she always has dinner with us on Sundays,” she starts, “is she mad at me?”
Jungkook is quick to settle her disquieting thoughts, “never in a million years bud, she could never be upset with you.”
“Then why isn’t she coming over to see me?” Mai isn’t crying, but her eyes look back at Jungkook and he can feel a tear in his heart when she does.
He sighs, holding Mai’s hand inside of his; “I hurt her feelings, so I think seeing you makes it hard for her because I’m always with you, right?”
Mai nods, “So say you’re sorry dad.”
He muffles a laugh, “it’s not that easy for adults sometimes.”
“Why? Don’t you miss her too?”
“I do,” he admits, “and I care a lot about her too.” Jungkook says, eying Mai, searching for the right words before he continues, “do you know what that means, bean?” He rests his chin on top of his hand, stroking her hair away from her face with the other. Mai observes her dad, hands pressed underneath her cheek.
“Grandma says when you care about people, it means you love them, so-” she twitches her nose inquisitively and Jungkook can’t help but giggle, leaning in to pinch it, “ask me questions,” he says, helping her out.
Mai yawns, not too far from sleep. But Jungkook can’t resist this time before bed, when his daughter is on the precipice of sweet slumber and they are alone, talking about whatever. Most of the time they are teasing each other, but if Mai has spent the day with you, Jungkook especially wanted to hear about it.
“I guess, does it mean you love her like you love me?” Mai asks.
The corner of his lips quirk into a smile, “I love you more than you can ever know-” he stops to catch the twinkle in his daughter’s eye, “but this love is a little bit different.”
Mai nods and follows with a big yawn. Jungkook leans in once more to kiss her forehead, “sleep tight.”
“I won’t let the bedbugs bite,” May yawns again.
Before Jungkook steps out of her room, Mai squeaks, “dad?”
“Yeah?” He turns in a heartbeat.
“I love her too, and well you know how the other kids at school-well most kids have their moms you know?”
He can feel the final shattering inside of him when he goes to rub his chest. Jungkook moves in, sitting next to Mai when she sits up, “I feel like I love her how a kid is supposed to love their mom-like she is the very best friend I will ever get to have, dad,” Mai looks up at him, “if she is mad at you, please make it better because I think we need her for forever.”
Tears brim the outside of Jungkook’s eyes, his smile trembling when he stares down at his literal heart in the shape of his child; “I love you so much,” he pulls her into his lap where Mai finds solace hiding her face in his shoulder.
“But my friend at school can never know that, it would hurt her feelings,” Mai muffles against him. Jungkook manages a gentle laugh, pressing a long kiss to the top of Mai’s head, his tears going unnoticed by his daughter.
The last time you received a call from Mai’s school was a year ago, she pushed a boy who tried to put a dead lizard on top of her head. He fell back and scraped his elbow. Mai was not about to let the school call her dad.
‘He won’t be as mad if you’re with me!’ She insisted, holding her hand in yours as the two of you crossed the street, a detention slip in her other hand.
Listed as the third emergency contact under her grandma, your stomach churns, wondering why they would be calling you. There is no question whether you would answer or not.
“Hello?” You breathe slowly into the phone.
The woman on the other end informs you she’s the principal; “Mai’s father and grandma haven’t returned our calls; the kids had an early release today but it appears they have forgotten to pick her up, and the buses have all gone.”
You frown, they never forget to pick Mai up from school. And if either one couldn’t, you were the next in line if she wasn’t going to take the bus; “oh-uh okay, I-um-I can be there in-” you look at the clock above your desk, ignoring the incomplete work before you, “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
You rush around the room to gather your things, darting for the door with your keys in hand.
By the time you’re walking up to the school Mai is running through the main doors, the principal right behind her smiling as Mai meets you halfway. She clings around your waist and it instantly causes your eyes to water, “hi bean.”
“I missed you,” she says, pulling herself off of you only to grab your hand. She pulls you with fervor to your car, barely giving you time to look back and wave at the principal.
Once settled in the car you turn towards the backseat and look at her with raised brows, “did they know you were getting out early?”
Mai purses her lips, eyes widening when she shrugs in response, quick to open a book to read when you start the car.
“Hm,” you turn around without much afterthought, making the drive back to their house. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks since that morning which you’ve tried desperately to forget, and three weeks since talking to Jungkook and Mai.
You aren’t sure what classifies as tension between an adult and a child, but the Mai who is usually speaking faster than she can keep up with has taken to staring out the window, staring at the buildings whizzing by and trees blending into the other. You look into the rearview mirror every so often, pretending you don’t know why she looks so indifferent.
Hugging you was a good sign, but now she seems awkward, dashing out of your car and beating you to the front door. You eye each other when you make it there. She gives you a sarcastic look, looking at your keys for a moment before you get the hint. You always had a set of keys to their house. It felt weird using them now.
Mai pushes the door open impatiently, the keys still in the lock with your hand attached to it, “hey-geez, slow down will you-no running-” you smack your tongue, setting your things down when Mai runs down the hallway to her bedroom.
Your chest fills with air as you take a glance around their home, singing praises that Jungkook’s car is not in the driveway meaning he must have been too busy to eat lunch at home.
“Mai,” your voice echoes down the hallway, “Mai you know shouldn’t be running in the house.”
She’s sitting at the small table her grandpa made for her, her homework already laid out and a pencil in hand. You watch her for a moment, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment of what you’ve said. But she just sits there, chin resting in her hand while she reads over the assignment.
You sigh, moving to sit on the floor next to her, looking over her paper to read the words but all you can see is the blank expression on Mai’s face. You poke her hand, “anybody in there?”
She moves her hand into her lap and starts writing.
You know why she’s doing this and you can’t be upset, but it does sting a little. Usually, it’s a fight to get her to do her homework when you’re around; “so you’re just going to ignore me? I thought you missed me.”
It’s only then that her eyes dart to meet yours, her eyes a mirrored reflection of her father’s. It’s always amazed you how they twinkle like stardust is floating around in them. You attempt a smile but it just falls when you notice how her eyes are glistening with tears.
“I missed you too bean-”
“Na-uh, I’m a kid but you don’t need to lie to me, I’m a tough kid.” She defends herself.
“Mai,” you sigh.
“If you missed me then you would have come to see me, but you didn’t for three whole weeks, so you’re just a liar,” Mai abandons her pencil and drops her face onto the table, creating a barrier around her head with her arms.
That cuts you deep.
A liar.
You sit there and listen to her sniffle before working up the courage to touch her arm, she flinches and you wait for her to pull away but it’s more surprising when she doesn’t.
“Bean, will you look at me please?” Your tone is soft as you rub her arm. She shakes her head.
“Please," is all you can say. You watch her chest heave when she complies a minute later, cheeks wet from her tears, she can hardly keep her eyes on you. You reach over and wipe her face with the back of your hand, squeezing her chin in the process. She bites back a smile.
“You lost a tooth!” You gasp, holding onto her chin and moving it down to reveal the new gap in her bottom teeth. She can’t help but perk up at you noticing, “it fell out when I bit into an apple,” she giggles. You laugh with her, watching her round cheeks glow pink; “Mai, I really have missed you.”
She moves her lips in a thinking manner, finally, you can breathe a little bit easier when her eyes find you, “I told dad you are my best friend. And usually best friends like to see each other, so,” she hums, scrounging around for her thoughts, “so you didn’t come over and I thought you just didn’t want me to be your friend anymore.”
You’re shaking your head, cursing at yourself, “that would never happen, not in a million lifetimes kid because you’re my best friend too.”
She understands but you can still see the questioning in her expression as she tries to piece it all together so it can make sense. You pull Mai closer to you until she is sitting right in front of you, her legs tucked underneath herself; “I am so sorry bean, for not talking to you and for not coming around-” you start but you wonder how to continue, looking around the room as if there is some viable answer written on the walls, “I was…angry about something and it hurt me really bad. So I thought being alone would make me feel better.”
Mai plays with your hands, perhaps not even noticing she is doing it, “did it?”
You have to chuckle at her, if only you had a measure of Mai’s honesty, you and Jungkook would not be in this current situation, “no, because I just ended up hurting the one person who means so much to me, the only one who has never hurt me back.”
Mai looks at you hopefully, “me?”
A smile beams across your face and you pull Mai into you until she is giggling, “yes you, silly.”
After a moment of light-heartedness, Mai settles back down, drawing circles into the shag rug, “dad said he hurt your feelings, so I guess this is all his fault.”
You hum, rubbing your hand over her hair, “well - no, I can’t put all the blame-”
“MAI?” The desperate yell for her name causes both of you to jump. Mai clamors to her feet, darting into her bathroom and slamming the door shut.
“What-Mai?” You’re launched into a panic, one over the fact that Mai’s face drained of any color at the sound of her dad’s gruff voice and second, it’s Jungkook’s voice.
Her name falls off of his tongue like rapid fire. Before you can say anything he tears into Mai’s bedroom and comes to a screeching halt at the sight of you. He’s breathless, staring at you. All you can manage is to gesture at the bathroom door, “she ran in there.” Just then Mrs. Jeon comes in behind her son, worried eyes finding relief upon seeing you, “oh thank God, please tell me Mai is here,” she sighs.
You nod, confused as ever, “her principal called me because it was an early day and nobody was there to pick her up…” You stop, realizing there was a major miscommunication and Mai was the culprit.
Jungkook’s eyes are fierce, eyebrows in a straight line when he moves in front of the bathroom door, hand rattling the doorknob which is now locked. He makes a fist ready to pound on it when his mom stops him, “you’ll just make it worse,” she speaks calmly, looking back at you. Her hands are trembling when she reaches out to you, you move forward and grab them.
You fumble with words, “She must’ve-”
“We’ve been looking everywhere for the last hour - since when did my kid start scheming - open this door Mai!” Jungkook starts again, his worry fuming out of him.
“Jungkook-ah, please,” Mrs. Jeon pleaded, pushing herself between the door and her son, “the important part is that she is safe…why don’t you go to the kitchen, get some water and just relax for a moment.”
“Mom-”
She shakes her head, “I will talk to her, now go.”
Hesitantly he drags his feet and leaves the room. Your stomach does flips when Mrs. Jeon settles her attention on you, hand resting on the doorknob of Mai’s bathroom.
Please, don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t-
“Will you keep an eye on him, please? I don’t know why but he’s been so worked up lately-” Mrs. Jeon shrugs, unsure of what else to say. You take a deep breath in, nodding as you march out of the room at a snail’s pace.
He’s bent at the waist, face pressed into his palms before he runs them back through his hair- it’s shorter now. He takes a deep breath that is promptly cut off when he sees you standing there, your hands resting on top of the granite countertop. Your fingers twitch with anxiety, palms feeling clammy as your heartbeat picks up again.
He finishes a glass of water, turning around to set it down in the sink. He doesn’t look back at you, resting his hands at the edge of the counter, “thanks for being there,” his voice is barely audible, “you-uh, you don’t have to stay-”
“I’m sorry.”
His shoulders tense, another breath is trapped in his throat at the sound of your voice. It rasps and shakes at the threat of new tears but you hold them back for as long as you can. You aren’t sure how long that will last.
“Jungkook?” You aren’t confident saying his name, unsure if he is seething because of Mai or if it’s really because of you.
He nods before turning around, looking at the top of your head before his gaze shakes over your eyes until he gives up, looking down at the floor.
“I don’t know-” you stop when you hear Mrs. Jeon come down the hallway, she stands next to you and rubs your back, a more relaxed smile on her face.
“She failed to let us know that it was an early day, says she forgot,” Mrs. Jeon shrugs. You and Jungkook look at each other knowing full well that Mai is the mastermind behind this very moment; “but she understands the severity of what she caused and is ready to apologize to you,” his mom looks from her son to you, “and you.”
Jungkook thanks her and walks her to the front door after she hugs you; “oh,” she calls to you gently, “come over for dinner soon? It’s like pulling teeth to get this boy to bring you over, we miss you.”
You just nod, smiling at her before Jungkook closes the door behind her. He rubs the back of his neck, reclaiming his spot across from you. The island provides a safe space between the two of you as you lean your weight against it.
“I’m sorry,” his tone is unsure but you can feel the guilt radiate from him, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that,” he sighs, “and so many other things.” He mutters the last part but you manage to hear it.
“I was hurt,” you swallow so hard that even he can hear it, “I’ve had so much pent up - for years…I just lost it.”
“We always talk about everything. I mean, d-don’t you think I would have wanted to know about something that important?” His words are desperate to be heard, steeped in weeks of constant questioning.
“You make it sound like confessing is so easy,” you can’t help the frown that appears, “the risk involved? Because telling you just so I can be rejected doesn’t mean just losing you,” your voice struggles, “I’ll lose Mai too and god, I can’t stomach that.”
He’s looking at you now, directly at you, blinking away what you can only assume are tears.
“I-I didn’t want to risk that so I held it in, I pushed it away until I believed that I didn’t love you anymore but,” you shake your head, “I realized it wasn’t going to go away even after every date you came home from. How I’ve had to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach when you traipse in after you’ve been with another woman, a woman that could never be me - will never be me. I was so mad that I couldn’t be jealous enough or hurt enough by that to stop loving you. I want to stop, but I can’t figure out how-” your words taper off when you notice a trace of a smile spreads across his lips.
“Are you sm-smiling?” Your hands tremble and you’re ready to storm out of there.
He is smiling, it’s barely there but you can see it.
“Can I say something?” His eyebrows lift as he looks at you with hopeful eyes.
You aren’t sure if you should be offended by the crooked smile on his face, the same one that melts your insides and makes your palms sweat. You just nod, ready to take on another offense.
“I love you too.” His voice is shaking.
Everything stops. Your heart launches into your throat and you aren’t sure if you’re breathing anymore. You can feel your mouth fall open, you have to tell yourself to close it. Jungkook just waits.
The confident, suave Jungkook you know all too well is replaced by the loving human you have known even more. The man who masks his worth with fleeting escapades that never last past one night or a weekend at most.
“What? What do you mean,” you stutter, your lungs feel like they are collapsing, “why are you telling me this now?”
Jungkook closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head, “I’m scared too.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.
He takes you in, the intensity of his stare enough to make you fall back, you can only hope there’s enough strength left in your legs to hold yourself up. Your stomach flips when he makes a step forward to which you take one back.
“You didn’t give me a chance to say anything when it all happened,” his feet move toward you again in one small step, “I wanted to tell you then but rightfully so, you were so upset. Then you were telling me to leave-”
“I didn’t-I-”
“You didn’t want me to reject you?” Jungkook fills in the blanks for you. You nod sheepishly, wringing your hand around your wrist.
The air stills when Jungkook’s fingertips graze your hand, “have I ever rejected you since we’ve known each other?”
Your mind races. Intentionally, no he hasn’t. As much as you dropped everything to be with Mai, Jungkook would do the same. When your car broke down on the freeway late one night? Jungkook was there before the tow truck, a sleeping Mai in the back seat of their car. When you didn’t get the promotion you worked tirelessly to earn? He was at your apartment to pick up the pieces, later that night you and Mai baked cookies together and ended that awful day with a movie - the three of you cuddled up on your couch.
Jungkook has always been there.
“God, all I’ve ever wanted is you,” Jungkook can’t stop himself long enough to allow you to stay in your thoughts. He can practically see your heart thumping out of your chest, he can feel your warm breath stagger out of your mouth. It isn’t until he decides to reach up and touch your neck with a ghostly touch does your breathing still. His touch is so slight it leaves goosebumps all over your skin. You swallow the lump in your throat when his hand grazes your jaw before he cups it around the side of your face. His fingers rub the shell of your ear.
“Do you still want me?” He fills the gap between you with careful steps; you can see the longing in his eyes and you wonder for how long you’ve missed that. With the little space left, it’s almost too difficult to look up at him; “Jungkook I-”
His breath stops at the sound of your voice like he’s ready for the ultimate rejection. His beating heart prepares for more pain.
“Yes,” You’re breathless. You only catch a second of the smile spreading his cheeks before he pulls you in. Muscular arms wrapping tightly around you but he’s careful to leave breathing room. All too naturally, your face nuzzles in his shoulder, breathing in his scent as your arms fold around his waist.
His nose presses into your hair, cheek warm against your temple.
“Wait,” you push your hands against his chest to create space. He grabs your hands to keep you close, “are you serious?”
He chuckles, nodding, his warm breath casts over your face, putting you deeper under his spell.
“After all of that happened, I didn’t think I had a chance. I didn’t think it could even be a possibility before,” his eyes look uncertain now, “you know too much about me,” he runs his fingers back through your hair, “but you are everything to me…you’ve loved Mai without me even asking you to,” he sighs, his expressions always more serious than most but it’s the Jungkook you know. Innocent eyes staring down at you, “watching you with Mai these last seven years has been the highlight of my life, but it was torturous too-”
You press your face into his chest, chuckling while tears overcome you, “torturous?”
Jungkook picks your chin up and kisses your tears away; “you were always in arm's reach but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, I just settled to silently love you.”
You shake your head, allowing Jungkook to wipe each tear away with his thumb.
“I was afraid it would confuse Mai. She’s my world too, you know?” You whisper.
“She’s too wise for her age,” he brushes his nose against yours, wearing the smile that exposes his bunny teeth, “trust me, she knows enough that we should be a family.”
His eyes search for an answer in yours, you don’t have to ask for the question running through his mind when his gaze sweeps over your lips. The only thing that forces him to stop is when he chuckles low.
“What?” You smile, head floating in ecstasy, you think you could pass out.
“I guess that stupid fortune was true.”
You shake your head with a small smile. He fidgets, “I love you-” he manages to get out before your lips press against his. They are slightly chapped but so soft as they mold to yours. You can feel your skin growing hot when his tongue rubs against your bottom lip. It takes everything in you not to burst right then and there, fallen victim to his tender kiss.
“I love you,” you stop to say. His slight pout at the break in your kiss makes you chuckle.
Jungkook lets his chin rest against your shoulder when he pulls you in, the two of you staying that way for a little bit. If not for the quiet pad of Mai’s bare feet tapping down the hallway, he thinks he could have stayed that way with you all night.
His eyes brighten when he sees Mai stoke around the corner, saucer-sized eyes spying on the two of you.
“Come here bean,” Jungkook’s voice surprises you, and you pull away as Mai runs into the kitchen. Before you can say anything to her, she wraps her arms around your middle, nose pressed into your hip. She muffles something.
You sniffle, “I can’t understand you,” you giggle, grabbing her chin in a tender grip so she can look up at you. Her eyes are wet again, resting her chin against your stomach, “I said, I love you.” Mai whispers like her dad can’t hear her. Her cheeks grow red and she immediately shies away.
Jungkook rubs her back with a loving stroke when he hears your breath catch in your throat. You kneel and take Mai’s face in your hands, “I love you so much, bean.”
“Enough to stick around forever?” She laughs nervously, swallowing back a soft cry, “because it was horrible without you, dad doesn’t know how to build forts like you do.” Jungkook laughs, nudging Mai’s back with his knee.
There’s a gentle mending in your heart when she says that, you stroke her hair and laugh with glistening eyes, “I promise I’ll build forts with you until we’re both too big to fit in them, and even then kid, you can’t ever get rid of me.” You are struggling to hold back the ugliest of sobs.
Mai doesn’t answer, she only falls forward into your arms, nuzzling her face into your hair. Jungkook joins you, resting on his knees to wrap the two of you into his hold.
You pull your face away enough so you can look at him. He kisses you before mouthing the words you’ve so yearned to hear him say; “I love you.”
#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#dad!jungkook#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts angst#i can't wait...series by serendipitous-seven#my reposts from moon-write
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I’ve been really getting into this game, and I really want to draw something for it.
So, I come here to request BG3 ladies’ reactions (or all companions if you’re up to it) perhaps reacting to Tav taking off their helmet/mask for the first time in a while? Maybe because they have a new horrific scar they don’t want to show yet?
Either way, all your posts are a joy to read!
Aaa I’m so glad you like my writing, and yes of course!! writing their immediate reaction to seeing you (and as if you’re in a relationship).
Karlach
Is shocked, but only for a moment before she starts comforting you.
Tries to reassure you that your new scar is really, really cool!
Shows you her own scars in response, telling you the story behind each of them, trying to reassure you that she thinks no differently of you.
“Babe… you never need to hide anything from me. You know that, right? We’re a team and I love you.”
Gives you a kiss if you’re happy to let her, otherwise just holds you and lets you find comfort in her arms.
Shadowheart
Goes into healer mode immediately.
Tries to work some healing magic on your scar if it’s new and help the healing process along, or if it’s older will attempt a greater restoration for you.
If she can help it she’ll keep going down that path and start a long course of healing magic.
If she can’t she never directly comments on it, but every night she makes sure to kiss you on your scar so that you know she still loves you so dearly.
Lae’zel
Pauses to examine your scar and asks you how you got it.
She listens and nods along to your story, and you can see her internally damning herself for not being there to protect you.
“The Githyanki wear their scars with pride. Each one is proof of another well-won victory against a vicious opponent. This is no different.”
In tender moments alone she runs her hand across your scar, mapping it out, caressing you. Letting you know she loves you through her actions.
Minthara
Maybe this is not what she expected, and will let you know that it’s a shock - but mostly she’s just annoyed that you didn’t tell her.
“We are equals, and you should be honest with me about all things. Never hide anything like this from me again.”
At night you see her looking so sadly at you, and she goes back to training at double the enthusiasm. You realise she wishes she’d been there to protect you and that you never had to go through it at all.
She’d never admit to it, of course. however you do hold her tighter when you fall asleep by her side.
Jaheira
She is old enough to have seen many scars in her time, and this is just another one on the list.
She cups your face in her hand, caresses the new wound, and then holds you close to her.
“You are very brave, little cub. This is something which can never be taken from you.”
If anyone says anything snide about it, she threatens to wildshape into a panther and see how they like getting a new scar.
#Shadowheart x tav#shadowheart x reader#lae’zel x reader#lae’zel x tav#Minthara x tav#minthara x reader#karlach x Tav#karlach x reader#jaheira x tav#jaheira x reader#My writing#request#Sometimes i like to do lists with just the ladies
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a/n: so. this wasn’t a fic i planned on writing but kind of needed to, in order to just process some shit. i had the same thyroid surgery a couple of years ago, but only had half of it out at the time. i recently had a little bit of a scare that there was something going on with the remaining half (there wasn’t, i’m all good!!) but i sat down ready to write a different andrei fic and this one came out instead 😬 it’s kind of funny, because i wanted to post an andrei fic on the one year anniversary of posting that first andrei fic and it weirdly worked out that this fic is an opposite of that first one - andrei taking care of reader as opposed to her taking care of him after the acl injury. anyway, stupidly long note over and just one final thing: i have been so grateful and blessed by all the love for my hockey fics this past year and i’m looking forward to writing more fun fics for you guys 🤍
word count: 6.6k
tw: cancer mention, surgery mention, incisions and scarring mention
summary: when you have a medical scare, it’s andrei’s turn to take care of you
You manage to keep your emotions under control and locked away until you get home and Andrei’s head pops up over the back of the couch, television remote in hand, smile on his face as he asks, “how was your day?”
The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re bursting into hysterical tears, sobs wracking your entire body. Your bag slips off your shoulder and lands on the floor with a thump and you can’t see Andrei’s face fall in fear through your tears. But a second later, his arms are strong around your body, his chest solid under your cheek as he crushes you in a hug.
You’re grateful for it, for his solid presence, because the second he touches you, your knees buckle and he’s the only thing keeping you standing.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” Andrei’s voice is thick with fear, one large hand stroking the back of your head. His voice shakes when he asks, “did someone die?”
You manage a shake of your head against his chest, breath hiccuping out of your chest. Your lungs feel tight and you’re pretty sure you’re not getting enough oxygen in on your shaky, shallow breaths. Andrei pulls back slightly and cradles your face in his hands, fingers gripping just slightly too tight. The pressure grounds you and even though you’re still sobbing, your breathing feels easier.
“Solnyshka, please, what’s happening?” Andrei studies you with worried eyes, his accent stronger than usual. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, like windshield wipers getting rid of your tears. “You’re scaring me.”
“D-doctor called,” you manage to choke out and Andrei’s grip on your face gets tighter. Your stomach swirls with nausea and you’re afraid that you might vomit on him.
Andrei mutters a curse under his breath, your reaction isn’t for good news.
You raise a shaky hand to your mouth and press your fingertips against your lips, muffling your voice as you choke out a fragmented sentence, “b-biopsy was, um, it’s - they said. Oh fuck, um, c-cancer.”
The word hangs in the air between your bodies, dropped like a bomb.
Andrei’s eyes go wide and he stares at you, jaw going slack. “Fuck,” he grits out the curse and you press the heels of your palms into your eye sockets, hard, until you see little white starbursts.
One of his hands slides down the side of your jaw until his thumb is right over the lump just above your collarbone, the cause of your tears. He’d been the one to notice it months ago, pressing a kiss to your skin and mumbling that something felt off. You’d brushed him off, like an idiot, thinking it was nothing until he had mentioned it again a few weeks later, noting that it was bigger. Twice more he had to comment on it before you went to your doctor, starting down a path of blood draws, ultrasounds, CT scans, and most recently, a biopsy.
You feel like an idiot for waiting so long.
Andrei’s lips meet your forehead, a warm kiss stabilizing you. He mumbles something against your skin and wraps his arms around you again in a tight hug. You lean heavily against him, mind going a mile a minute, your doctor’s words ringing in your ears. Without realizing it, Andrei gently ushers you up to your room, helping you strip off your clothes and turning on the shower for you. You blink at him and he cups your cheek.
“Shower,” he says, voice hoarse. “Clean the day off, yes? Then we figure it out. Together.”
You nod, wiping at the tears still sliding down your cheeks. “Please don’t leave?” Your voice cracks. You don’t think you can be alone with your thoughts right now. “Just…just tell me about something. Anything.”
“Okay,” he nods and leans against the countertop, arms crossed over his stomach. He’s quiet for a few moments while you get situated in the shower, hot water running over your face. You splutter out the water when it fills your mouth and tears well up in your eyes again. Andrei’s eyes study you as he slowly begins to tell you about practice, clearly trying to remember each and every little detail that he can to try and distract you.
It sort of works, drawing a faint laugh when he tells you about Pyotr’s latest adventure in the crease, but also your brain can’t stop thinking about the c-word. It’s a constant loop in your brain - “I’m sorry, the biopsy was positive for malignant cells. Thyroid cancer. I’m scheduling you for an appointment in two days to discuss the plan going forward.”
Without you really participating, still in a daze, Andrei turns the shower off and bundles you in a towel, rubbing his hands up and down you arms to get some warmth in your body. He guides you into the bedroom and quickly helps you into sweats, bundling you up under the covers before climbing in next to you and pulling you close so your chest is flush against his.
“You’re shaking,” he comments, squeezing you tightly. Your head is tucked under his chin, nose pressed against his neck.
“She didn’t say,” you mumble, cutting yourself off. “What if it’s - what if it’s bad?”
Andrei shakes his head above you and his fingertips draw nonsense patterns on your back. “It won’t be,” he says firmly.
“But what if it is?” You press him in a shaky voice. “What if I’m like, just -“
“Stop,” he says shortly, interrupting your spiral. You shut your mouth with a little snap. “When do you see doctor again?”
“Two days,” you reply. “The first appointment, eight in the morning.”
Normally your doctor is booked up weeks in advance. The fact that she’s squeezing you in last minute only makes your heart beat faster, nausea churn in your stomach. It must be bad, for her to make sure you get in quickly. If it weren’t, wouldn’t she just let you schedule a normal appointment?
Andrei’s talking, but you don’t hear him over your spiralling thoughts. “Sorry,” you tap on his chest, drawing his attention. “I wasn’t- what were you saying?”
He kisses the crown of your head. “You can have breakfast before? I’ll take you for coffee before we go to the appointment. Is the office near that coffee shop you like?”
“You - wait,” you’re still not really processing what he’s saying, too hung up on cancercancercancer.
“Breakfast before your appointment,” Andrei repeats. His legs tangle with yours.
“You don’t have to -“ you start to say, shaking your head. He doesn’t need to be burdened with your medical stuff now.
Andrei interrupts you with a little pat to your ass. “I’m coming with you, final. No arguing, solnyshka,” his cheek rests against your head and you can feel his hands tremble a little against your back.
“Okay,” you murmur. “No arguing. But you might be late for practice…I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
The thought of going to your appointment alone is terrifying though and you’re grateful that Andrei offered, that you didn’t have to ask. Because you wouldn’t have asked, not when you know he’s busy and distracted with the season. Not when you’re an adult and should be able to handle this on your own.
“Leave to me,” he says. “I’ll handle, okay? Just try to relax now and then we’ll have dinner.”
“I can’t eat,” you reply immediately, your stomach lurches violently. The thought of food is enough to have you ready to rush for the toilet. Frankly, you’re surprised you haven’t already vomited from the sheer anxiety of the situation.
“Then you can watch me eat,” Andrei jokes, surprising a weak giggle from you. You can feel his cheek move against the top of your head with a smile and allow yourself to focus on the steady beat of his heart under your cheek until you fall into a fitful, unsatisfying sleep.
The next day drags and speeds by and before you know it, you’re waking up at 4:30 in the morning on the day of your appointment. You try to stay quiet on your side of the bed, so you don’t wake Andrei up - there was a game last night and he’d gotten home late - but he’s more attuned to you than you realized. His hand slides over your hip, squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the dark. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
His eyes are still shut and his voice is low and hoarse with sleep, but Andrei’s lips curl up in a sleepy, lazy smile. “Didn’t wake me,” he mumbles into the pillow as his hand finds yours. You lace your fingers with his, feeling the ridges of his knuckles with the pads of your fingers. “Don’t want you nervous alone.”
“Thanks,” you manage to choke out the word around the lump of emotion lodged in your throat. Andrei tugs on your hand and you slide closer to him, letting him tuck you under his arm and bury his face in your neck.
“Sleep again. Alarm is set,” his breath is warm on your skin and his arm is a heavy, reassuring weight over your stomach. You close your eyes and let yourself mimic Andrei’s slow, steady breathing. It’s not easy and your brain continues whirling a mile a minute, thinking about the lump on your neck, the possible treatment, possible long term effects. You just wish you knew already how bad it is.
Andrei grunts next to you, blowing little pieces of hair from your face. “Stop thinking, solnyshka. You’re going to start a fire with all your thoughts,” he kisses your shoulder and pulls you closer, crushing you against his side so tightly it’s almost hard to breathe. You focus on the weight of his arm and the heat of his body until you can feel your heartbeat slow down.
The next time you wake up, it’s to an empty bed and the smell of eggs and bacon in the air. You yawn and stretch out, turning your head to see the time on your Hatch. 6:45, a much more reasonable time to be awake.
A pit sits heavy in your stomach and you scrub a hand over your face, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. Just over an hour until you really know what you’re dealing with.
You can hear Andrei moving around in the kitchen and with a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed and move on auto-pilot to get ready for the appointment. You take time with your hair and makeup, feeling a little bit better once you start looking like a human again.
“Hi,” you greet Andrei quietly once you head down to the kitchen. He looks up from where he’s scrolling on his phone while eating his first breakfast of eggs and bacon.
“Morning,” he opens one arm for you to come and lean against him. You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. “Sleep well?”
You lift one shoulder in a shrug and Andrei chuckles a bit. “Snored and drooled all over me,” he teases, “so it was a rhetorical question.”
“I did not!” You protest, a spark of energy flaring while you defend yourself. You push back from Andrei’s side and squint at him, a little pout on your lips.
“Did too,” Andrei grins and when he grabs your chin in his hand to draw you in for a kiss, you know he provoked you on purpose and is happy with the result.
You exhale a scoff through your nose when he pulls back, shit-eating grin still on his face. “Terrible man,” you murmur affectionately.
His grin turns smirky and his hand slides down to rest against the curve of your ass. He pats lightly, a little frisson of heat traveling through your body at the contact. You sigh and lean into him again, not looking forward to leaving the little bubble of your home.
At the coffee shop, you pick at the cinnamon scone Andrei had forced into your hands, crumbs littering the tabletop as you shred it with your fingers. Andrei studies you, chewing on the black plastic straw in his iced white chocolate mocha. You’re startled when he abruptly asks, “where do you want to go this summer?”
Crumbs skitter across the table when your fingers jolt and you blink at him, hands frozen in midair. “What?” You ask, shaking your head and processing. It clicks a second later and you continue, “I…I can’t think about the summer, Drei. I just need to get through today.”
He keeps chewing on the straw and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move. “Solnyshka, when this is over and you’re not going anywhere on vacation, you’ll tell me that we should have planned something,” he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, where do you want to go this summer?”
Tears prickle at your eyes, again, overwhelmed by Andrei’s thoughtfulness. Pausing for time and to make sure your voice isn’t shaky when you do speak, you look down at the massacred scone and brush your fingers together to get rid of the crumbs on your fingers. “Um,” you clear your throat, “I don’t know, really. Nykki and Martin love Mauritius. Maybe there?”
“Whatever you want,” Andrei agrees easily, slurping at his drink. He pushes the napkin with a larger chunk of scone on it towards you. “Eat,” he demands, tone firm.
You take a small bite, just to appease him, but the pastry tastes like sawdust in your mouth.
Andrei holds your hand throughout the entire appointment and you’re grateful for his presence, because you can’t focus on anything your doctor says after ‘stage I papillary thyroid cancer’ and ‘surgery’ and ‘radioactive iodine treatment, just to be sure.’ He squeezes your fingers tighter and tighter as your doctor talks, pointing out something on the black and white images of your ultrasound and CT scan. The blurry blobs could be anything and you honestly have no idea what she’s pointing at.
Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, blood rushing like you’re underwater, as she explains the surgery you’ll be undergoing. A thyroidectomy to remove your entire thyroid and the cancerous lymph nodes. In and out in the hospital, a straight line cut across your lower throat. A scar unless you’re good with applying Vitamin E oil or Mederma. Possible damage to your vocal cords, but that’s very rare.
“What does your schedule look like in the next month?” She asks, briskly but not unkindly.
You blink at her and shake your head slightly. Andrei looks at you, waiting for an answer. “I, um,” you pause, trying to mentally access your calendar, “I’m open. I just…have to put in the leave time at work.”
“Good,” she says, looking down at the paper calendar on her desktop and running her finger over the boxes, “we’ll schedule your thyroidectomy for a week and a half from today, that’s a lighter day for me. All the pre-op information will be in your portal and we’ll go from there on scheduling the rest of your treatment. Any questions?”
A million.
“No,” you murmur, “um, not right now.”
“Can I stay with her?” Andrei leans forward to ask. “When she has surgery?”
“You can wait in the waiting room while she’s under,” your doctor replies. “And once she’s out of the anaesthesia and discharged, you’ll have to drive her home. She won’t be able to drive for a day or so while the anaesthesia really works out of her system.”
You’re shaking your head. “No, you have work. You have practice and games, someone else will drive me. I’ll ask Nykki…”
“No,” Andrei turns to you with wide brown eyes. “I’ll drive you. I’ll be there, solnyshka.”
You shake your head again, but keep quiet because you don’t want to have a fight with Andrei in front of the doctor. The rest of the appointment is routine scheduling and you leave with your head swimming and a surgery date burned into your brain.
You’re quiet the rest of the day and Andrei doesn’t push you to talk, instead trying to go about your routine as normally as possible. He’s missed practice - “personal reasons” Rod’s quoted as saying on Twitter, but “nothing that will prevent him from playing tomorrow.”
The next week and a half feels like a blur - you’re distracted and anxious with Andrei playing three games in seven days, two of them on the road, taking him away from you. He’s back the day before your surgery and doesn’t say anything when you greet him at the door with a tight hug and cling to him for the rest of the night, your stomach growling since you can’t eat, both from the anxiety and the pre-surgical requirements.
“Are you sure about missing the game tomorrow?” You ask later, when it’s dark and you’re buried under the blankets. “I feel -“
“Don’t feel bad,” Andrei rubs small circles over your back. “I made decision. Rod understands. You are more important than the game and the boys promised to win for you.”
A soft giggle escapes into the air and some of your guilt along with it. You hate that Andrei’s missing the game, hate that he’s missing it for you. You hate that everyone seems to know your personal business too, but you know Andrei had needed to talk about what you’re going through too.
His other hand moves up to your scalp and scratches gently, tension seeping from your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he kisses your cheek. “Early day tomorrow.”
“I love you,” you whisper. “So much.”
Andrei has to practically manhandle you into the car in the morning, making sure you’re dressed comfortably and warm. Your head rests against the window as he drives. “I’ll pick up some groceries while you’re napping,” he says, brushing his thumb over your knee. “Anything you want specific?”
“Butterscotch pudding,” you ask hopefully, smiling a little. You try not to eat a ton of processed foods, but you figure post-surgery you’ll indulge.
“On it,” Andrei grins at you, dimple popping. He looks calm, which reassures you. Once he parks and you enter the hospital, everything speeds up and slows down. Andrei helps you fill out paperwork while you change into the hospital gown and grippy socks.
You fold up your clothes neatly and put them in the little duffle bag you brought along. Andrei catches sight of the pile and raises an eyebrow, “are you not wearing underwear?”
Your cheeks heat up with a flush and you hold the gown shut behind you. “No,” you hiss, “I’m not allowed to. Don’t even start with me.”
“I wasn’t going to,” his smile is a little too sneaky and you try to climb onto the bed in a way that doesn’t leave your entire ass exposed. You fail miserably, if the little wolf-whistle Andrei lets out is any indication.
“I hate you,” you mutter, pulling the sheet up around your legs. You’re both quiet while the nurse comes around to make sure all your paperwork is filled out and signed. Andrei immediately reaches for your hand when the nurse puts the IV line in your other hand - “for the anesthesia, later,” she explains - knowing that you hate needles more than anything.
And then there’s nothing to do but wait.
Andrei’s sitting on the edge of the bed, texting and reading out the messages that the guys are directing to you. “Jarvy,” he says, wincing at the screen, “wants to know if you get to keep your thyroid once it’s removed.”
“Uh, no,” you reply flatly, face screwing up in disgust at the thought of it. “I hate this.”
His hand lands on your knee and rubs it through the sheet. “It will be over before you know it,” he soothes you. “In meantime, Skjeisy says you can join me and him in the cool scar club.”
Your hand subconsciously lifts to your throat, fingers wrapping around it loosely, and you blow out a breath, puffing up your cheeks. “Not a club I really wanted to join,” you say wryly.
You scroll through Twitter absently, a pit of guilt settling low in your stomach when you see the Tweet from the Canes’ account that Andrei’s missing tonight’s game for personal reasons. Your thumb hovers over the tweet, ready to tap on it and read the replies, when Andrei plucks the device from your hands. “Hey!” You protest, reaching for your phone. Andrei pulls it out of your reach.
“No more social media,” he says, tucking your phone in the back pocket of his jeans for safe keeping. With his other hand, he digs a little envelope out of his front pocket. “I forgot, yesterday, to give this to you. But mom sent this and I was supposed to give it to you before surgery,” he settles the little envelope in your hands and you look at it curiously.
Opening the flap, you tilt the contents out onto the palm of your hand - a little gold medallion on a chain. You hold it up to your face and see the tiny icon embossed into the gold. “Who is this?” You ask, rubbing your thumb over the image.
“Saint Anastasia,” Andrei replies, “she was a healer, I think. Mama wanted to make sure you were protected.”
Elena’s gesture of love and concern hits you like a punch to the stomach and you startle both yourself and Andrei by bursting out into ugly, loud sobs. Your face crumples and fingers tighten around the chain.
Andrei lets out a noise of distress that you can barely hear over your crying and rush of blood in your ears. His arms wrap around your upper body and you bury your face in his chest, getting tears and snot everywhere. “It’s okay,” he whispers in your ear, stroking a hand over your hair. “Hey, stop crying, nurses are going to think something is wrong. Shh.”
“I just really love your mom,” you wail into his chest, muffled by his shirt.
Andrei keeps shushing you, alternating with trying to comfort you. You sniffle and pull back, wiping at your face with the back of your wrist. “Better?” Andrei asks, cupping your chin. His lips are drawn down in a concerned frown.
“A little, yeah,” you nod, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping one arm around them. You hold your other hand up, the little pendant dangling from its chain in between your faces. “Can you keep this safe for me?”
He nods and lets you clasp the chain around his neck. The little pendant falls into place against his chest, dwarfed next to his giant cross. You smooth your fingertips over the icon and his cross, lingering for a few heartbeats over the warm metals. Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours and he squeezes your fingers. “You are going to be perfect, solnyshka,” he mumbles, lifting your hand to his mouth to kiss your fingertips.
“Okay, kids,” your nurse, a cheerful older woman named Monica, appears at the foot of your bed, drawing yours and Andrei’s attention, “one more kiss and then I’m whisking you off to the best sleep of your life.”
Andrei squeezes your fingers again and presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling, “see you soon.”
You press your fingers into his chest, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt, fingers curling like you’re going to hold on and not let go. With a shaky sigh, you release him and manage a brave little smile, “don’t forget my butterscotch pudding.”
He nods, laughing under his breath, and then Monica’s helping you get settled back on the bed and Andrei steps off to the side while a whole little team appears to transport you to the operating room. You twist your fingers together anxiously, stomach turning, and turn on the bed so you can keep looking at Andrei until you’re completely out of the pre-op ward. He catches your eye and winks, waving a little and tapping his other hand over his chest, where your icon hangs next to his cross.
“He’s a real cutie,” Monica comments idly, drawing your attention once the swinging doors are shut behind your little parade and Andrei’s out of sight.
“Oh,” you hum faintly, “he really is. I don’t deserve him, honestly.”
“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” she keeps chatting as you get situated on the operating table, climbing awkwardly from your bed, trying to keep the gown closed over your ass. “You’re just as cute, even more, I’d say.”
“Thanks,” you laugh a little, the compliment warming the icy block of nerves lodged in your chest. Once you’re laid out on the table, you run a hand over your sternum, breathing deeply.
The surgeon comes in and offers you a warm smile, “I promise, I’m really good at this.”
You’re thrown off a little by the statement and he nods, clearly pleased with himself. “I find that patients always want me to be a little cocky,” he continues, sitting down on a wheeling stool next to the table you’re on. “We’ll be done before you know it and you’ll wake up feeling extremely well-rested.”
“As long as you’ve got the skill to back up your words,” you say, surprisingly reassured a bit by his no-nonsense manner.
Monica pats your hand and grins, “he does. Now, count back from ten and you’ll be back with that sweetheart of yours in no time.”
Your lips curl up briefly and you angle your head away when you feel the little tug on the IV in your hand indicating that the anesthesia is getting attached and started. In your head, you start the count at ten, nine, eight —
“Oh, looks like she’s coming around,” a voice breaks through the dark haziness surrounding you and you try to blink, but your body feels too heavy.
There’s a warm pressure on your hand and you twitch your fingers against it. A little shiver works its way through your body, you’re freezing.
The warmth on your hand moves up your arm - a hand stroking against your skin. “Whenever you’re ready,” the familiar accent washes over you, “I can’t wait to see those eyes, solnyshka.”
A hum forms in the back of your throat and that’s a mistake because it hurts and you let yourself fall back asleep to avoid the pain.
The next time you wake up, the bright lights of the hospital almost force you to close your eyes again. You grumble wordlessly and the noise draws Andrei’s attention from where he’s sitting in a chair next to your bed, scrolling on his phone. He looks over at you and his face immediately breaks out into a wide, dimpled smile.
“Hey,” he greets you, scooting the chair closer and reaching for your hands. His are still warm against your cold ones and it’s nice when his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles. “How do you feel?”
Before answering, you take stock of your body and you’re surprised to find that you feel pretty good beyond the pain in your throat. That feels like you’re swallowing knives. “‘M okay,” you manage to mumble quietly, wincing at the stretch of your skin. “C’n I have water?”
“Da,” Andrei pours water into a little plastic cup and hands it to you, plunking a straw in the water. You take a sip and it feels so good going down, the cold water soothing the burning. You sigh happily and sink back into the pillows.
“How’d it go?” You ask, rolling your head so your cheek is resting on your shoulder and you can see Andrei better. Your voice scratches out of your throat, raspy and hoarse like you’d just smoked a pack of cigarettes.
“Surgeon says perfect,” Andrei grins, the crinkles around his eyes deepening. “You did so good, solnyshka.”
His fingers never stop stroking yours and you melt at the contact, glad his the first face you saw when you woke up. “Wonder how bad the scar is,” you mutter, resisting the urge to touch your lower neck, where the skin feels tight and battered. “Can I see?”
Andrei’s hesitation and slight frown before he says, “maybe not best idea right now,” tells you all you need to know.
“Oh my god,” your eyes go wide, panic starting to claw at your chest. “He botched me! I’m botched, it’s a horrible scar, right?”
“No, no!” Andrei shakes his head frantically. “Not botched! It just, with the glue, there’s no stitches. But you can see all the blood. It looks worse than it is, the surgeon said.”
“But it looks really bad,” you confirm and before Andrei can say anything, Monica appears behind his shoulder.
“Look at you, awake and ready to go,” she smiles, effectively cutting off any discussion about your neck, and asking how you feel while filling out your chart. You answer as honestly as you can, voice growing more hoarse the longer you talk. “Well, everything looks really good. We’re going to keep you here for a few more hours and then, if everything keeps looking good, you’ll be back home before dinner time.”
You and Andrei chime a simultaneous ‘thank you’ as she leaves.
“Give me my phone,” you demand and Andrei shakes his head.
“No way,” he taps the back of your hand. “I’ll be your secretary. You’re just going to get upset if you look.”
“I won’t!” You counter petulantly, poking your lower lip out. “I just want to see.”
“When we get home,” he promises and you scowl at him. He effortlessly changes the subject, showing you a picture of Gigi that Martin had apparently sent earlier. You smile at your favorite puppy, swallowing often to try and ease the sharp pain. It doesn’t do much other than intensify the pain and you start to regret it, closing your eyes for another nap.
By the time you’re cleared for discharge, the pain meds have worn off completely and your neck hurts, a dark mood clouding your head. Andrei is patient with you, helping you change back into your sweats and zip-up. You protest the wheelchair an orderly brings around, but you’re told it’s hospital policy and you slump into the seat, crossing your arms over your chest. Andrei runs his hand over the crown of your head as he walks next to you, carrying your empty duffel bag.
Instead of driving his Lamborghini, your Toyota Rav is waiting at the curb and you smile. “Oh thank god,” you mutter and Andrei laughs.
“Didn’t think you’d want to get down low in my car,” he explains, holding out a hand to help you stand and then climb up into the passenger seat. He left a blanket in the car for you too and you take the opportunity to cover yourself up with it while he goes around the front of the car. You wave at the orderly through the window and Andrei starts the car.
“You thought right,” you yawn. It’s a fast drive home and you’re grateful for that, because all you want to do is rinse off and lay down. Considering you’d been under anesthesia for a couple of hours, you’re exhausted. You’re so tired, you forget to flip down the visor mirror to look at your incision.
Once you’re home, Andrei bundles you into the house, one hand solid against your lower back as he guides you up the front path. “I know you want to shower,” Andrei says, “but remember the doctor said not to get the glue wet for twenty four hours.”
You whine, cranky and desperate for a shower. “I want all the gross hospital feeling off of me, Drei,” you pout, toeing off your sneakers and crossing your arms.
He drops your tote next to your sneakers and raises an eyebrow. “I know, you can get in the bath and I’ll wash your hair. We’ll be careful with your neck, okay ?”
Your neck feels stiff and your throat is still sore, but you nod, just wanting to take your Tylenol and relax. When you shuffle further into the house, you spot bouquets of flowers on the kitchen island and gasp. “What are those?” You whisper hoarsely, tears prickling at your eyes.
“Oh, right,” Andrei laughs. “Special deliveries for my girl. The team sent and your office, Neci and Nykki. My parents, your parents, Geno.”
Tears slip down your cheeks and you feel overwhelmed with love. You wipe at your eyes with the heels of your palms and turn to Andrei for a hug. He embraces you easily and you shake your head. “I didn’t want everyone to know,” your throat hurts more when you cry.
“Only the important people,” he says. “Everyone loves you, solnyshka.”
The reminder of how many people are supporting you makes you think of Elena’s gift and you pull back from Andrei’s chest. “Can I have my necklace back now?” You ask in a shaky voice.
“Of course,” he unclasps the thin chain from his neck and hooks it around yours, pleased to see that the chain doesn’t touch your glued over incision. He taps the pendant with the tip of his finger and kisses your temple.
After an unsatisfying bath and a glance in the mirror that shows the dark rings under your eyes and the gruesome looking wound on your neck, you’re more or less clean and you build a nest of blankets and pillows on your bed, tucking yourself into the middle of it all. You have to sleep sitting up or partially reclined for the first night and it’s not your favorite way to sleep, so you prop a bunch of pillows around your head and hope that works. Andrei brings you a butterscotch pudding and climbs onto his side of the bed so you can watch the game.
“My neck looks awful,” you blurt, unable to stop thinking about it.
“It doesn’t,” Andrei replies. “Just for now with the blood and glue.”
“The scar is going to be so obvious in pictures,” you poke at the pudding with your spoon.
“You look badass,” Andrei rolls onto his side and grins at you. “Like a warrior.”
You scowl at him, feeling like he’s making fun of you even though you know he’s completely serious. You jab at the pudding again, suddenly nauseous. “I wish this was it,” you mutter, still raspy and hoarse and you’re really hoping it’s just temporary and that the surgeon didn’t actually fuck up your vocal cords. “But I still have the radiation and then who knows…”
“One day at a time,” Andrei knocks your foot with his. “That’s what you said to me, right? Every time I’ve been recovering, it’s one day at a time.”
He’s right, for each and every one of his injuries, you had been preaching taking recovery one day at a time. You suppose it’s time to practice what you preach now. Still, your anxiety ratchets up every time you think about the c-word, darkness and worst case scenarios dancing in your head. You twist your fingers around a piece of hair, fidgeting as you mind spins.
Andrei’s hand snakes over your thigh, rubbing gently at the soft fabric of your sweats. He rests his chin just above your knee and says, “hey, look at me.” It feels weird when he talks, chin bouncing on your leg, but you look down at him.
“Hm?” You chew at your lower lip.
“One day at a time,” he repeats firmly, refusing to break eye contact with you. When you nod and he’s satisfied, he presses a kiss to your knee and rolls back onto his back. “Who do you think scores first?” He gestures to the TV, trying to lighten the mood in the room.
You play along, wanting to avoid the pain and the scary future for now. Scooping out a bite of pudding and sticking the spoon in your mouth, you hum around the dessert before teasing, “oh, it’s definitely going to be Pyotr.”
Life goes pretty much back to normal over the next few days, you’re back at work and Andrei hits the road with the team. The glue over your incision flakes off and while the cut is a vivid, angry-looking red, it’s a clean, straight line only about three inches long. You’re obsessive about applying Mederma and Vitamin E oil to help the scar fade as quickly as possible. Your voice is still a little raspy, but it’s getting better slowly.
By the end of the week, you’re working up the courage to call your doctor to schedule your radiation therapy session. It’s a terrifying thought and your hands shake every time you think about it. But Andrei had sent a text this morning, reminding you to make the call. And you don’t want to let him down, not after how supportive he’s been. So, you stare down at the contact information for your doctor’s office, wishing you could, like, use the Force to make the call.
Startling you, the phone begins to vibrate on the table, the same contact information you had been looking at flashing on the screen.
“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself, blinking stupidly at the phone and swiping at the last second to accept the call. “Hello?”
It’s your doctor, making a personal call, the smile evident in her voice. Within minutes, you’re sobbing with relief as she tells you they ran additional tests on the tissue taken from your neck and while the initial thought and course of action had been to have radiation therapy, the surgeon was confident he had gotten all the cancerous tissue out of your neck.
“You’re cancer-free,” she tells you cheerfully. “I love making these calls.”
“Really?” You manage to squeak out the word around your tears.
“Really. You’ll have to be on a synthetic thyroid pill for the rest of your life and see me every four to six months for blood tests and evaluations,” she explains, “but I am very confident that the malignancy is gone and you won’t need radiation therapy.”
The rest of the conversation passes in a blur and you’re pretty sure the only thing you manage to say is a repeated ‘thank you, thank you, thank you’ before the call ends.
You sit on the couch, shell-shocked, gripping the little icon hanging around your neck.
That’s where Andrei finds you when he gets back from morning skate, tears dripping down your cheeks. Before he can ask, you catch his eyes and beam, “cancer free.”
Andrei lets out an unintelligible, strangled noise of joy and rushes to the couch, swinging you up in his arms and holding you to his chest in a bruising hug. He murmurs in Russian in your ear and you can feel his shoulders shake a little. “I love you,” he murmurs, while you cling to him, “I love you so much, solnyshka. So much.”
His arms are tight around your back and you hook your legs around his waist, not wanting to let go any time soon. Your face is buried in his neck and you’re not sure if his skin is damp from his shower or your tears, but you can’t stop crying.
“Did you book Mauritius?” You laugh wetly into Andrei’s shoulder.
Andrei’s laugh startles out of his chest, echoing around the living room and vibrating through your whole body. It’s your favorite sound in the whole world and you can’t wait to keep hearing it for a long time.
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Thirsty Imagine - Shoto Todoroki
Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug
Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, non con vaginal fingering, non con vaginal sex, non con anal fingering, non con oral sex, implied kidnapping, brat taming, light spanking, nudity, dominant behavior, controlling behavior, daddy kink
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Here you stand in front of Shoto, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.
“You fucking dipshit! I’m not listening to a thing you say, you kidnapping asshole.”
His arms are crossed, his dual colored eyes cold as his frost, his expression neutral even though a feral and wicked grin is hidden by the mask he presents to you.
No, you have no idea how much he loves this. The push, the thrill of the challenge to tame you.
It’s the reason why he hasn’t raised a hand to you yet, hasn’t really put you in your place other than the occasional warnings to comply or else…
Or else what? You have no idea. He always leaves his words chilling yet burning with curiosity.
Why would he tame you so quickly when he could have fun in drawing out the process? He could let you have your fun exerting your energy with a hot anger feisty enough to match his higher temperatures and then he could watch you fall to your knees once you find out that you really shouldn’t fuck around with Shoto Todoroki.
He’s had his fun watching you be a brat, watching you bitch and whine here and there. Enough is enough now. You tried to escape, and he just can’t let that slide.
“Snowflake, are you just tired?” He smirks at you, toying with you.
You put all your weight on one foot, jutting your hip out with a hand on the same side. “I’m tired of you. I wanna go home!”
Taking a step closer to you, he places both hands on your arms, right on the long sleeves of your shirt.
“No, I think you’re tired. In fact, I think my little snowball needs to go down for a nap.”
Those mismatched orbs of his stare into you, crushing you with the weight of the different colors.
“Shoto, get the hell off of me.” Your voice is different now. It doesn’t hold the same bite that it did before. You start to feel like you’ve been enveloped by his flames, trapped in a dangerous situation.
No, your voice is a tone akin to a quiet mutter, still comprehensible but only because he’s so close to you.
“I think we should get you ready for bed.”
He burns your shirt off of you. It happens so quickly that you barely feel the heat of the fabric burning until it falls to ash. Your shorts are taken from you next, leaving you in a bra and panties.
Shoto thumbs the lacy waistband with a tiny bow on the front. He smirks. “Cute, just like my little icicle.” Instead of burning them off, he simply tears them away from your hips.
A scrambled groan and scream mix in your throat as his fingers deftly move to your back to unhook your bra. You’re left completely nude, trying to cover yourself with your hands.
“Shoto, no!”
He grabs your cunt, wriggling two fingers knuckle deep into your perfect little pussy, so wet, slurping up his digits like the good little slut you are. Wet and made for his hands, his mouth, his cock. Only him.
Your perky tits, bare to the air for him, for his fingers to caress and twist the pink little nubs.
Shoto picks you up, letting your legs hang around his waist. Your clit rubs against the rough fabric of his jeans with every stride. He takes you over to the couch, laying you down on your back and leaning over you.
“Yeah, you’re just being fussy. Don’t worry, Daddy knows how to deal with fussy girls.”
“Sho-to! Oh, fuck, Shoto!” Your hips bump up into his hand as he palms your clit with vigor, filling your cavern full of his rough and scarred fingers once again.
“I just need to tire you out. That’s why you’re being a brat, huh? Too much energy building up in that tight little pussy. Daddy can fix that.”
He mouths your cunt, gorging on your juices. His tongue flicks in and out in all the right ways, clinging to your walls. A savory dinner and sweet dessert all in one.
You wrap your hands around your mouth, not wanting him to know how much pleasure he’s making you feel. You don’t want to give this fuck head the satisfaction.
You heard about something like this happening though, but you never actually experienced it for yourself. While that tight feeling of pressure builds up and up, making you feel weightless and heavy at the same time, you gush and squirt into Shoto’s open mouth.
And you couldn’t be more humiliated. You sob into your hands as you watch him lick his lips, making a show of swallowing your orgasm.
“Daddy’s turn now.”
He crawls over you, and you turn on your side, trying to get out from underneath the pro hero. You claw your way off of the couch, wailing when you feel a hand on your ankle dragging you back up.
“No, no, Shoto! I don’t wanna!”
“It’s only fair, snowflake. I made you come, now Daddy gets a turn.”
You shake your head as he situates himself on top of you again, spreading your legs with a knee prying them apart. He works his pants down with one hand. It takes a few moments, but he likes the build up of the anticipation.
His cock is hot pressed against you, lined up to thrust into you like a sword. He drives into you, the plane of his ass dipping lower with each bottoming out of his hips.
“Yeah, just a fussy little girl who needs to get fucked out, make you all cute and lazy. Is that what you need, snowball?”
You writhe beneath his warm body, sweat beads replacing the goose bumps from earlier. Your thighs quiver, jiggling from his rough movements. He’s not a slow and gentle lover.
No, he’s dominant through and through, making you learn your place, forcing you to know where you stand in his presence or rather kneel.
Every ministration is so intrinsic, the burning passion he has for you displayed in every touch, every grip, every plow.
“Shoto, please, wait-”
Shoto grabs you by your face, squishing your cheeks and lips into a pout, those lips wet with tears for him.
“You better fix that before I turn this into a punishment.”
You bite your lip, not sure if you should say it. You know what he wants, have heard him give you so many warnings about it before.
However, how can this get any worse?
“F-fuck you…” The bite is intently torn away from you now. There’s no heavy temper in what you have to say.
Shoto smirks knowing this.
He turns you over on your stomach, pushing your knees up until you’re hunched over on the back of the couch. His worn hand promotes obedience with firm discipline, and he strikes your bare ass ten times in a row, upping the heat in his palm with every slap.
“You know exactly what I want to hear.”
You growl, “Alright, Daddy, stop it.”
“Your manners are atrocious.” He slips his finger into your puckered asshole. “Well, it is a daddy’s job to teach his little girl some manners.”
His two fingers fuck into you with the same intensity as when his digits explored your pussy. You shake your head and kick your feet.
“Feels weird! Please!”
“Please what? You want me to stop and fuck you normally? Fuck your tight little pussy until you’re squirting on my cock?”
You nod your head. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes!”
“Will you be grateful now when I fuck you? Will you be good for me and take it instead of whining like a little brat?” His fingers drive deeper into your hole, and you squirm at the uncomfortableness of his handling.
“Yes, I’m sorry I was acting bad!”
He pats your sore bottom a few times, withdrawing his fingers from your back hole.
“Turn over and spread your legs for me, snow bunny.”
This time, you obey him, not wanting to be spanked or fucked in the ass.
He pushes his mushroom tip, heated with his quirk, deep inside of your soaked cunt. You throw your head back, feeling like he’s going to split you in half. You feel his tip press into your stomach, a bulge forming where he’s situated in your cervix.
You whimper, gripping onto his back, holding him close to you as you raise your hips to meet his.
Anything to get him to come and release you.
Anything for you to come now that you’re all buzzed.
And when he does fuck you so hard, jackrabbiting into you like a feral animal, his balls slapping your ass where he spanked you so hard with each punishing hit, he pounds you into an oblivion.
You gush around the fat head of his dick, and not even a few moments later, he’s making sure you’re filled with his seed.
Pulling out, his cock leers at you as he kneels over your chest. “Be a good girl and clean Daddy off.”
The thought of sucking your come and his off of his own dick doesn’t sound very pleasant, but at the same time, you just want this to end. You pump him a few times with your lips, knowing better than to bite down or scrape him with your teeth. You breathe through your nose all the while, making it clean of all the juices.
You pull away from him, looking up at him with pleading and teary eyes. “Is that…is that okay?”
“Yeah, my little snow storm. That’s good.”
He picks you up in his arms. “You were so good for Daddy, listening like such an obedient little slut. I’m proud of you. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for that nap.”
He gives you a kiss on the head, and you rest your cheek against his chest.
Maybe next time, you can figure out how to fight him and actually back up what you have to say.
#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere themes#triggering content#triggering themes#my hero acedamia#my hero academia#yandere my hero academia#boku no hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere shoto x reader#yandere shoto todoroki#mha shoto todoroki#bnha shoto todoroki#shoto todoroki#todoroki shoto
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“Cliché”
Headcannons᯽ Incorrect Quotes᯽
Authors Words: I love this man sm and I tried to do something for him, please don’t judge me I can’t write HCs
Word Count: 1687
Character(s): Xavier Thorpe
Pronouns: none used(masc coded)
Warning(s): both the reader and Xavier fall under the multisexual umbrella, not only is this “friends to rivals to lovers” trope but it’s also an “idiots in love but in denial” trope(yw), not proof read
⚰︎ You and Xavier were once best friends, you mainly got along due to you both being able to manipulate stuff, him drawings and you Shadows
⚰︎ However you both winded up falling for the Wednesday Addams, and you both being best friends quite easily caught onto the others feelings for the alternative girl
⚰︎ Though neither of you physically or verbally fought over her, you both definitely had some kind of mental arguments and created tense atmospheres whenever the two over you were around the other to the point it could be cut with a guillotine
⚰︎ What neither of you seemed to notice however was that you both definitely started to catch feeling for each other after being ditched by Wednesday(for Tyler) on more than one occasion, together
⚰︎ Specifically on Outreach day at Weathervane where you both were (unfortunately) to work together for the whole day and practically get rejected by your shared love interest at the same time
Picking up dirty mugs off one of the boothed tables and wiping it down you had caught the voice of your EX best friend.
Eyeing a glance to see what he was doing you found him in the middle of a conversation with Wednesday. That would simply not slide with you. So taking your wet rag and leaning next to your old friend you join in.
“Oh yeah? You want-“
“Oh hey Wednesday.” You said, quickly cutting Xavier off. “You want a Kaffee or something?”
You caught a glance of Xavier side eyeing you but you just brushed him off and kept smiling. However Xavier decided to add to your comment with his own. Seemingly dragging himself back into the conversation you tried to overtake.
“It’s one of the many perks of this wonderful assignment.” He said, to which you nodded in agreement. Sure you didn’t want him to be a part of this conversation but he definitely was right. The best part of this assignment was the free coffee.
“I’m actually here for Tyler.” Wednesday said to which you crossed your arms and scoffed at.
“I told you he was bad news.” Xavier replied verbally.
“Twice, from both of you.” She said flatly. “But who I speak to is my business.” She continued before ringing the bell.
Your face scrunched at the annoying ding but brushed it off as Tyler came out from the back.
“You rang?” Tyler said.
Wednesday looked at you and Xavier as if asking you both to leave them. Both you and the brunette scoffed before you grabbed Xavier’s forearm.
“Come on Xav.” You said as you dragged him away in the other direction.
Xavier pulled his arm out of your grasp and looked at you in disbelief. “Xav?” You couldn’t tell if he was offended, hurt or something else. “Really?”
“What?” You replied, questioning him before you paused, finally processing what you did.
“Whatever. Get back to work, Thorpe.” You turned on your heel and went back to wiping tables, now feeling some kind of pit in your stomach for the rest of the day.
⚰︎ After that things pretty much stayed as they were
⚰︎ You did get pretty jealous when Wednesday asked Xavier to the Rave’N dance, but for some reason you couldn’t exactly tell who you were jealous of and just winded up avoiding anything to do with the Rave’N dance altogether
⚰︎ Only after the Rave’N dance did you find out that Xavier and Wednesday didn’t go together and you felt relief flood throughout you
⚰︎ However after that you did start skipping any and all classes you had with Xavier and Wednesday, because you felt that put in your stomach from your Weathervane assignment all over again
⚰︎ You only ever showed up to class for any possible tests and to pick up class work you missed, other then that you isolated yourself in your dorm and gave the silent treatment to your vampire roommate if they ever tried to ask about what was happening with you
⚰︎ Quite literally, you disappeared into the shadows of your guys dorm room until they stopped questioning you or they left
⚰︎ That continued all the way until Xavier was arrested for supposedly being the monster(that you managed to find out is called a Hyde due to your roommate)
⚰︎ Though due to you knowing Xavier for as long as you have and how you were both practically attached to the hip before the whole Wednesday thing, you knew damn well you would’ve been dragged into the whole thing way before Wednesday even showed up, therefore automatically telling you Xavier was innocent
⚰︎ However you were confident that Xavier was not the Hyde monster, you couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed due to you anxiety and insecurities eating you up and telling you that you’re only saying he’s innocent cause he’s your best friend
You laid on your back facing the roof, headphones over your beanie blasting music as your head swarmed with thoughts.
Was Xavier really the Hyde?
Was it because of Wednesday? Is that why he didn’t tell you? No, the monster had been around before her and the whole Wednesday crush thing.
Could he have just not trusted you with his secret?
Were you not trustworthy?
You wouldn’t have told on him, he was your best friend. So why wouldn’t he have trusted you?
Were you a bad friend?
⚰︎ After sitting like that for an hour or so you told yourself to “man up” and decided to go and find out if you or your anxieties were right, which was pretty easy for you to sneak out of a Nevermore and into the police station due to you being able to manipulate shadows
⚰︎ You remember the whole night as if it was yesterday
⚰︎ You remember sitting next to his cell and asking him questions that he answered
⚰︎ And him and you both sitting on opposite sides of his cell back to back holding hands as you both cried and apologized to one another
⚰︎ You remember all of it
⚰︎ You also very much remember him pulling your hand through the bars and kissing up your arm as far as he could while saying “sorry” before you had to disappear into the shadows before one of the deputies walked in
⚰︎ You also remember after the whole crackstone thing where you had thanked Wednesday for taking an arrow for Xavier because “he’s an idiot”
⚰︎ And how she immediately went to asking if you and Xavier were a thing
⚰︎ You and Xavier were practically dating after the whole night in the police department and didn’t even realize until then
⚰︎ (That was just something you both laughed about after though, alongside both of your guy’s old crushes on Wednesday)
⚰︎ After you guys came to terms that you both liked one another everything had practically gone back to they way it was before, just you guys being more than friends this time
⚰︎ Though one thing didn’t change however
⚰︎ And that was your guys rivalry
⚰︎ Everything was a competition and or a fight now
⚰︎Examples:
➣
You, in a whiny voice: “Xav I’m tireddd.”
Xavier, in a mocking voice: “Xav I’m tired.”
➢
Xavier would always answer (basically) all your questions and requests with a “no” before actually answering/fulfilling your request(s).
You: “Hug me.”
Xavier: “clingy much?”
Xavier: *hugs you anyways*
➣
You’ll both wind up fighting over who can eat faster anywhere at anytime. You could be having dinner with both your families and friends and still wind up scarfing down all your food to beat the other.
Xavier: *eating quickly so he can go draw*
You: *eats just as fast so you can listen to music*
Both: *Glaring across the table as you both scarf down food trying to clear your plate before the other*
➢
Xavier: “I can’t believe we fell in love. We literally became the Rivals to Lovers trope irl.”
You, smirking: “Who doesn’t live a good cliche?”
➣
Xavier: “Hey, you want some leftovers?”
You: “What's that?”
Xavier: “You've never had leftovers???”
You: “No, because I'm not a quitter.”
Xavier: “… that’s a fucking lie.”
You: “Fuck off and die.”
Xavier: “Bet.”
You: “Wait no-“
Xavier, Smirking:
You: “I hate you.”
Xavier: “Good.”
➢
You: “I live to spite you.”
Xavier: “Then why are we married?”
You: “To ruin your life, duh.”
➣
Xavier gets up an hour earlier just so he can say he brushed his teeth first.
Now you both go to bed at eight and wake up around 3:40 just to beat the other.
➢
You: “I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you.”
Xavier: “10 times 0 is still 0 though.”
You: “Jokes on you, I can't do math.”
Xavier:
➣
You: “Three words. Say them and I‘ll buy dinner.”
Xavier: “Three words.”
You:
➢
Xavier: “Okay, help me with this drawing… please.”
You: “Got two words for you.”
Xavier: “I bet they won't be helpful.”
You, with a close eyed smile: “Your problem.”
Xavier: “I was right.”
➣
He also does his best to remember dates just so he can pull shit like this:
You: “Can you please be serious for five minutes?”
Xavier: “My record is four, but I think I can do it.”
You: “Why am I dating you?”
Xavier, smiling: “Because you said “I love you” first.”
You:
You: “Did I?”
Xavier:
Xavier: “March 2nd at—“
You: “jeez okay fine just shut up.”
Xavier, smirking:
You: “I hate you.”
Xavier: “Keep telling yourself that.”
➢
He would probably give you his left kidney with absolutely zero questions but won’t give you his phone charger even if his phone is at like 70%
➣
Trivial matters trip both of you up and you both being stubborn, wind up arguing over said matters.
You: “who’s turn is it to do the dishes?”
Xavier:
Xavier:: “ I think it’s yours.”
You: “But I did them yesterday.”
Xavier: “No you most definitely did not.”
You: “Did too!”
Xavier: “Did not!—“
And it continues.
#x reader#wednesday x reader#xavier thorpe#xavier thorpe x reader#x gn reader#x male reader#wednesday tv show#gn!reader#xavier thorpe x y/n#xavier thorpe x you#xavier thorpe x male reader#xavier thorpe x m!reader#wednesday netflix#xavier thorpe x gn!reader
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Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader
Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): foul language, suggestive themes, brief non-consensual grab (non-graphic)
Word Count: 5.2k
A/N: Part One of Ink & Needle
Inside the club Riot Room, you meet a masked stranger.
Chapter Two
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist
The puddle in the caved pavement ripples as a raindrop shatters its silent surface. Small, but growing larger and wider until the water is still again. Another raindrop falls from the sky and the process is repeated.
A beginning. An end. A beginning. An end. A—
Fresh start.
New roots.
The brick that starts the riot.
All things have a beginning. This moment is no different, because it feels like the start of something, and for so many fucking reasons.
And it’s not just the water. It isn’t only the water. There is a neon sign, and its reflection is in that tiny pool. A bright pink that is at odds with the old London architecture surrounding it. Maybe the color is melting, or maybe it’s your imagination, and your brain has finally kicked off and this is its farewell salute.
Why, when you are here for someone else’s beginning, does it really feel like yours? It’s not sour or sweet or foul or sticky but heavy as if your boots are filled with liquid cement.
This is supposed to be Evie’s night. This is her bar crawl. This is her marriage. This is her bachelorette party. But now you’re at the last place of the evening, and everything is suddenly barring down like an avalanche.
Riot Room blares the pink neon sign. It’s loud, and the very edges of your consciousness ache from how bright it is. You’re not even standing that close.
Below the sign is an archway with an open gate. A tall man in all-black stands off to the side of it checking IDs and handing out wristbands. From the open gate comes a pounding, shredding beat that you’re not sure is heavy metal, electronic, or a combination of the two.
Riot Room is completely different from the other places you’ve visited tonight. The four places before this were all quaint pubs with odd names and a nostalgic sense of comfort. Riot Room is a club. There is nothing quaint or nostalgic about it.
Two scantily clad women in black leather wearing large coats trot by, their heads bent close as they talk to each other. Their lips are painted a dark purple that resembles bruising as if they’ve been kissed roughly.
To your right, Sam’s gaze drops to span the length of one of the women. She looks on in appreciation, her pink-painted lips pursing with interest. Her dark skin is speckled with gold dust and her tight curls are bundled up on the top of her head in two big buns.
Sam’s gaze draws away from the woman’s bare legs. Her gaze falls on you, and you grin widely, knowing she’s been caught. The corner of her mouth quirks with a hint of smile.
She leans in until your shoulders touch. “It’s not like you weren’t looking.”
You lean in a bit more until your noses are close to brushing. “But I wasn’t the one who got caught.”
Sam laughs and pulls away, the sound of it bright and airy. She waves her hand as if trying to ward off evil.
Once she’s caught her breath, Sam leans around you, addressing the two women standing to your left. “Ready, ladies?”
Jade tilts her head, her blue ponytail shifting to fall over her right shoulder. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Did you pick this place, Sam? Seems like a ‘you’ kind of place.”
Sam nods toward Evie with one of her buns. “The bride-to-be agreed to this.”
You and Jade turn in unison. Evie shrugs. “I did.”
Jade snorts and holds out an outstretched hand toward the club. “You hate these kinds of places.”
“Oh my god,” mutters Sam throwing her arms up in the air, her gold bangles clacking against each other.
Evie laughs softly, and the sound is sweet enough to rot your teeth. That’s the thing about Evelyn Green. She is the nicest, most kind-hearted, selfless person you’ll ever meet. Rarely does this woman do anything for herself, and putting this evening together for her was a struggle. Not because she’s difficult, but because she wanted tonight to be about everyone, not just herself.
Evie’s button-nose scrunches slightly. “I told Sam I wanted to come. When am I ever going to go to a place like this after I marry Archie?”
Jade’s lips form into a thin line and she shakes her head. “Archie is the most un-pretentious rich boy I’ve ever met in my life. He’d love you even if you were a plastic bag. And he hates all those events the two of you go to anyway.”
“Yes,” agrees Evie. “But he’s required to go, and once we’re married, I will have to attend as well.” Her face falls slightly, and it’s understandable.
Evie’s fiancée comes from wealth—the old money kind. Archie’s great grandfather is of British nobility, and while Archie isn’t titled, that doesn’t really seem to matter. He is well-educated, and many of his closest friends and colleagues all run in the same circles.
Evie is not from that life. She grew up a poor coal miner’s daughter in southern Missouri. She managed to scrounge up enough money to move to Columbia to attend Mizzou and met Archie during an exchange program. She was in a park, and Archie was playing soccer with friends. Knocked her in the side of the head with the ball. Archie sat with her in the ambulance and the two went on a date the next day.
They’re in love, and it’s a gorgeous, beautiful thing. But not all of Archie’s family is supportive of their marriage. Many look down on her for her background. Evie acts like it doesn’t bother her, but you know different. Those events they attend together cut deep, tear into her until there is nothing left but her forced smile.
Jade sighs loudly and then turns toward Sam, pointing at her. “If I find out you forced her—”
Sam groans and then grabs Jade’s outstretched forearm, tucking Jade against her side as the two of them walk arm-in-arm towards the club. “Oh shove it, Jade,” mutters Sam.
Evie giggles and holds out her hand to you, wiggling her fingers. Grinning, you entwine your fingers with Evie’s and follow the bickering duo.
They argue all the way to the door. IDs are checked. Wristbands are handed out. A cover is paid. And then you’re walking through the gate, under the archway, and into an open courtyard.
That heaviness returns, and your boots feel like lead. Something about this place is different from the rest, and you cannot put a finger on what you’re sensing. It’s a change in the direction of the wind. It’s a falling autumn leaf. There is a shift happening, and you’re not aware of where it might come from.
The night sky is directly above your head, and you can see every star in the sky. To your immediate right—just inside the gate—is a coat check. Next to it is a stage where a man in a Jason Voorhees mask stands behind a DJ booth. He is shirtless, well-muscled, and covered in fake blood. Though both feet are on the ground, the rest of his body shakes and writhes with the intensity of the music. The bass is the loudest aspect, rattling around in your body until you start to feel dizzy.
On stage with DJ Voorhees are several other masked men. They too wear hockey masks, but they are all painted a different color. They don’t wear shirts either and they jump around on the stage, pushing and shoving each other, occasionally dropping down into the crowd to do the same before running to the stage.
The crowd is thick but mostly near the front of the stage. Beyond them on the far side of the courtyard is the bar. It’s long, spanning nearly the entire wall, with several bartenders and barbacks working along it. Next to the bar near the stage is a set of stairs that leads up into a building. People enter and exit through the door. There are windows but they’re entirely blacked out and you have no idea what might be back there.
You scan the length of the bar and find another set of stairs on the other end. This one descends and next to it is another gate—this one much smaller than the entrance—guarded by security. The back wall of the courtyard—the one facing the stage—is lined with people, but there is walking space between them and the crowd near the stage.
Evie’s smile widens, and you suddenly don’t care anymore. This is for her, even if you feel uneasy. Her happiness is the most important thing right now.
“I’m grabbing us drinks,” yells Sam over the music. She gestures with her thumb over her shoulder before she heads that way.
Evie steps a bit closer to you. She’s nervous but eager as she squeezes your hand.
One of the masked men jumps off the stage and into the crowd. They all yell and then he pops up, throwing himself in people’s faces. You instinctually step forward to block Evie as he darts around a club-goer and appears directly in front of you.
“Fuck off,” you yell when he pushes himself into your face. All you see is the purple-painted hockey mask and he won’t fucking move. He just stands there like an ill omen that won’t allow you to look away.
You’re about to speak, your lips and tongue forming the shape of what you want to say. Then, he disappears, as if knowing your intention.
Jade snags your upper arm and leans in, her gaze fixed on the point the guy slipped away to. “I’ll stay with Evie. Go check on Sam. Make sure she isn’t just buying us tequila shots.”
Evie reluctantly gives up your hand as you navigate the congested dancefloor. You have to twist your upper body to avoid collisions. Just through the crowd, you can just make out Sam’s buns. A man steps into your path. He isn’t looking—likely too drunk to even notice that you’re right behind him—and you step out of the way to avoid is wayward swagger.
But there are too many goddamn people, and you can’t avoid them all. Instead of him, you bump into someone else.
“Shit. Sorry. I—” You glance up. “Oh fuck.”
A wraith stands before you, all cold shadow and violent foreboding. Dark eyes surrounded by pale eyelashes observe you from behind a black balaclava. Around the mouth are skeleton teeth but they’re a tad faded which only adds to the ominous presence of this strange man. He is tall, and you have to bend your neck to see directly into his face, and that doesn’t even take into account how broad his shoulders are.
Space is non-existent. The only thing you understand about your surroundings is him. This man is a being out of hell, a creature of fire and blood, and yet you’re drawn to him. You are a pale moth, a gentle creature, and he is the pyre in which you will burn.
He takes hold of your upper arm, and his grip is strong. His strength is both a threat and a comfort. He could snap you in two, but it’s placement and how firmly he holds on to you tells you otherwise. This man is dangerous, and yet through the hardness is a softness in the brow that you recognize as concern. His dark eyes narrow, and as he pulls you closer to him, he leans in before his gaze moves to a stop over your right shoulder.
“You okay?”
It isn’t the wraith gripping your upper arm who’s addressing you. You glance over your left shoulder and meet a softer expression. Black hair cut short, tanned skin, and kind eyes. This man is completely different from the one that still holds onto your arm.
“Fine,” you murmur but realize he can’t hear you over the music. “I’m fine.” This time you project, and he nods.
“Gaz!” He turns away, and a different man holds out a plastic cup full of beer to him.
Gaz takes it and then this newcomer turns in your direction. You want to leave, to walk away, but that’s difficult when your upper arm is still in a vice grip. You shake it, trying to throw the stranger’s grasp, and make no ground. His hand stays put.
“Who’s this?” asks the newcomer, and you recognize the accent as a Scottish one.
“Some wanker ran into her. Knocked her right into Ghost.”
“Fucking hell. You good, Lt?”
Ghost doesn’t say anything, or if he does, you don’t hear him over the music. Shaking your arm again, you attempt to free yourself for a second time. Ghost still doesn’t let go. Instead, he tugs you a little closer until you feel his body heat.
You hate being told what to do, and you especially hate men who cannot take a fucking hint. You try again, ready to smack the balaclava right off Ghost’s face if he doesn’t release you. But he does, and his grip is gone so suddenly that you nearly topple backward.
Acting bolder than you feel, you give Ghost your best scowl before turning toward Gaz, your mouth forming into a smile. “Thank you,” you say, excusing yourself quickly and heading toward the bar.
“What kind of a name is Ghost?” you mutter to yourself just as Sam turns around from the bar. She cradles six drinks in her arms like a newborn baby.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You reach for them, grabbing one before it tips over to spill across the floor.
“Jade sent you, didn’t she?” laughs Sam, handing you another plastic cup. “Can’t trust me after that tequila incident.”
“No comment,” you answer, making sure the drinks you’re holding are secure and won’t slip out of your grasp.
When you return to Jade and Evie, the two women have their arms wrapped around each other, swaying in a little circle, giggling hysterically. The moment you and Sam appear, Evie is pulling away from Jade, reaching for the gin and tonic you hold out to her. When the drinks are distributed, Sam and Jade have one in each hand while you and Evie only hold one.
Before this, the four of you visited four different pubs, and had plenty of drinks at each establishment. While it’s nearing the end of the night, there isn’t any reason for you to go overboard. Slowing down might be best, especially if Sam and Jade are going to double-fist drinks the rest of the night. Tomorrow—technically today at this hour—is supposed to be a spa day with some of the women from Archie’s family. Hungover is the last think you want to be while dealing with them.
As your lips suction around the head of the straw, you feel a pull, a tug toward the back wall of the courtyard. You resist the urge, refuse to look because you know who you’ll find. Instead, you suck on the straw, focus on the bite of the gin, sway your hips until the pounding beat is all you know in your veins.
But the pull won’t release. It won’t slacken. And the more and more you resist, the more it aches to not look, because no matter how startling his appearance is, it intrigues you, makes you think about how long it’s been and how you wish to be touched.
Would he keep the balaclava on? Would he take it off? And why does that intrigue you?
You start to turn, to surrender to the tug, and then snap back to reality, nearly knocking into Jade as you force yourself away from looking. The drink in your plastic cup sloshes harshly against the side but doesn’t spill over.
Evie leans in, her lips close to your ear, and she nods in the direction of the tug. “That guy won’t stop staring at you.”
“Who?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly who Evie is referring to.
“Mystery masked man.” Evie grins, her straw caught between her upper and lower teeth.
This time you look. There he is. Ghost, as his friends called him. He leans against the wall, the same small group of people surrounding him from earlier. They’re all talking, but Ghost is staring in your direction, and his gaze is locked in on you.
You quickly glance away and shrug even as a dull heat warms your limbs. “Looks like trouble.”
“Looks like a good time if you ask me.”
“Evie,” you gasp, bumping her shoulder.
“What?” she laughs, sucking up the last bit of her drink.
Jade goes up on her toes, her head swiveling back and forth. “Who are we looking at?”
Sam catches on and twists, glancing in the same direction. She’s successful first. “Oh my god.” Sam leans in until her cheek is pressed against your own. “That man is staring at you.”
“I know!” You pull back a bit, but Sam doesn’t let you go far.
She bumps your shoulder. “Go talk to him.”
“And say what?”
“Hello. Have anyone waiting on you? No? Great. Let’s get out of here. You can even keep the mask on.”
You roll your eyes. “No. I’m not doing that.” You reach out and snag Evie’s arm. “And it’s her night. Why would I leave y’all for a hook-up?”
Sam finishes one of her drinks. She removes the straw and pops it into the other cup, doubling it up by putting the full plastic cup into the empty one. “Listen, if you won’t. I will. The guy next to him with the dark hair is an absolute snack. Even the older guy with the weird mustache is making my daddy issues purr.”
Jade’s eyes widen slightly. She nods enthusiastically. “Oh he is quite nice.”
“Right? Girl. I could take him and not in a fight.”
“Fine!” you exclaim. “I’ll go talk to him.” You turn toward Evie. “If you’re okay with it?”
Evie grins around her straw. You know what it means. Evie wants you to go because she wants to see everyone happy, but you wouldn’t call yourself excited. That heavy feeling is back, the one that feels like a new beginning.
The issue is that fresh starts are a cleansing. They are often a renewal. You think of cold water, of a slate wiped clean, but there are other markers for such things. Fire destroys but it also creates the opportunity for new life. Controlled burnings are a thing, and this man—this Ghost—can only be fire.
“I need a refill anyway,” you mutter, turning toward the bar, some of your confidence slipping.
You take a deep breath, the alcohol in your blood singing, giving you a feeling of lightness that makes your feet move of their own accord even as they want to drag. It is confounding. You don’t know what you want.
Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, moving ever closer to your wraith. He watches you the entire time. As you draw nearer, and your gazes lock, he straightens. Ghost pushes off from the wall like he’s expecting you to come to him. You notice the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his right hand clenches and unclenches in anticipation.
The gesture is so surprising, you lose all your nerve, walking right past him and to the bar. You don’t have to see him to know that he’s watching. His gaze is a drill, and you sense the bite of it at your back. Your palms are sweaty, and you discard your empty drink in the nearest trash bin.
You order another gin and tonic, handing over a crumpled pound note to the bartender. As you turn around, you notice that Ghost is gone. He isn’t leaning against the wall or even lingering with his friends. They’re still there, chatting away, but Ghost is missing.
Your heartrate kicks up and it’s suddenly so loud you don’t hear the thunderous pulsing beat of the music. It’s like you’re standing in a dark train tunnel, and everything is narrowing down to a single point. The crowd near the bar has grown in the last few minutes. People walk up and down the stairs next to the bar, and now that you’re actually focused on the building, you can some of the interior lights.
Evie, Sam, and Jade are out of sight, but you know they’re probably rolling their eyes, ready to question you about why you didn’t approach him. Better to accept your defeat and move on. Yes, there is a tug, a tether attached to this stranger that you cannot seem to shed, but you don’t know this person. There is no harm in not pushing this further, in moving on, and pretending you never met him in the first place.
“Whatever,” you mutter to yourself, as the roar of the music comes rushing back.
As you squeeze between two people, one of the mask-wearing men from the stage appears from nowhere. It’s the same guy from earlier. The one with the purple hockey mask who threw himself at you and Evie. You step back and bump into someone. That momentum only pushes you closer to him.
Purple-mask cages you in, lunges repeatedly like he’s going to grab you or hit you. It’s intimidating. Awful. You want to tell him to leave you alone, but the music is so loud you’d have to scream.
You step to the left to try and move around him, but he only puts himself back in your path. This time, you form the shape of a bite, ready to sting with your words, but all conscious thought leaves you the moment his hand makes contact.
He does touch. And it is not gentle.
He tugs on your jacket, then your top, then your jacket again. You bat is hand away, try to move out of range, but he is so much faster. His arm goes around you, and then he drags you in like you asked to dance.
“Let go!” You yank your arm free, but the guy still holds firm, guiding you deeper into the crowd.
Everything is hot. Tight. Overwhelming. Stealing all breath.
You pull again. “Let go!”
This time he does. This time, he disappears.
Ghost looms like a dark shadow, his hand around the guy’s neck. His palm is large to the point that Ghost’s hand easily encases the man’s throat.
“Touching a woman without her consent isn’t polite. In fact, I’ve killed men over less. How about you apologize to her, yeah?”
It’s the first time you’ve heard Ghost speak. Even over the music, you easily hear the rough, gruff timbre of his voice. It’s harsh like liquor and yet entirely smooth when it washes over your body and floods your senses.
Ghost drops the guy and he immediately bolts, darting through the crowd and pushing people out of his way. Ghost does not run after him.
Instead, he turns toward you and lowers himself enough to get close. All you see are his eyes which at first seemed dark, but now look like how light shines through a whiskey bottle.
“Did he hurt you?” The concern in his voice is genuine, and somehow that pleases you. There is a small trace of anger, but it’s fleeting, and not worthy of attention. Ghost isn’t worried about your purple-masked assailant. He’s worried about you.
You shake your head. “No.” Lick your lips. Breathe deep. “No. I’m fine.”
His pale eyelashes look like little halos. Is the hair on his head the same? Is it darker?
“You sure?” he asks, this time starting to straighten a bit.
“Yes. I just—I need some air.”
Ghost nods. “Come with me.” His hand gently rests against your elbow, and you accept it. This touch is not a threat, and you surrender to him, allowing him to lead you away from the crowd. They part easily as if on instinct. Maybe Ghost is truly that intimidating.
Ghost leads you to the far edge of the bar near the secondary set of stairs. He does not escort you down the stairs but to the other archway you noticed earlier. The security guard nods at the two of you and then you step down onto damp pavement in a little alleyway.
Your rescuer immediately pulls out a pack of smokes from the inside of his leather jacket. He selects one and then holds the pack out to you. You reach for one. It’s a reflex. You tend to smoke when you drink because it prevents you from drinking more than you need, but sometimes all you do is chain smoke and then you can’t talk the next day. It’s a terrible habit but one you haven’t been able to kick.
“Thank you,” you murmur once your cigarette is lit. He simply nods and pushes up his balaclava to suck on his own.
You try not to stare but you catch the faint hint of a long scar along the edge of his jaw. Beneath that, his entire neck is a solid black tattoo. You’ve seen them before, where people blackout parts of their body in ink. His stretches across the muscles in his neck, and when he inhales, you take note of every ripple of muscle. The strength there is astounding.
Glancing away quickly, pretending you weren’t admiring him, you clear your throat. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Ghost cannot be his name. There’s no way.
He exhales, the smoke drifting up into the air. “That important to you?”
“Yes.”
He stares at you for a moment. “Ghost.”
Fuck. Why’d you think he’d say anything different from a man wearing a balaclava out in public. It’s not his real name. That’s obvious, but you’re not sure if you want to push the matter. Yet it does make you wonder why he didn’t give you his real name.
You decide not to push it, giving him your name instead. As he exhales, the smoke fans upward to crown his head like a pair of horns before twisting off into the night sky.
“Why’d you scowl at me?” he asks, ashing his cigarette.
You run your tongue over your front teeth before speaking the lie. “I didn’t scowl.”
“But you were angry,” says Ghost, pointing his cigarette in your direction before he takes a drag.
“You wouldn’t let me go,” you counter, growing annoyed with this line of questioning.
“Someone knocked you down. You didn’t speak or look at me. And I’m the one you ran into. I was concerned.”
“For a complete stranger?”
“I’m a compassionate person.”
You sigh and roll your eyes. “And yet you threatened to kill the man who touched me.”
Ghost points toward the gate, emphasizing each word with a light thrust of his hand. “The threat was deserved.”
I’ve killed men over less.
His words rattle around in your head. What normal person says something like that? The fact that he said it without fear makes you question what line of work he’s in.
Ghost drops his arm and takes another drag on his cigarette.
You should be afraid. You should walk back inside to your friends. That’s the safe thing to do. It’s the smart thing. But you’re feeling a bit bold—and a little annoyed. You want to know where this goes or if it’ll lead nowhere at all.
Straightening your shoulders, you drop your cigarette and put it out with the toe of your boot. “My friends think I should fuck you.”
It’s out of your mouth before you have the chance to think twice. Ghost’s hand pauses halfway to his mouth.
His head tilts slightly, and then turns in your direction. “What?”
You hate repeating yourself, but you’ve already said the words. You cannot take them back.
“My friends noticed you staring at me. Told me to talk to you. If I didn’t, one of them would have.”
Ghost fully shifts in your direction. He takes one step toward you. Another. There is a dark swagger there, and he’s trying desperately not to smile.
“You want to have it off?”
Yes.
“Thanks for the offer but I really should leave.” You start to step backward as if to return to the club.
Ghost must realize this because he moves like a bullet, blocking your path, planting one hand against the brick wall behind you. Your gaze falls on his hand and you notice all the tattoos. They cover his fingers and the back of his hand, disappearing under the sleeve of his black leather jacket.
“You’re taking the piss.” Ghost is smiling now but it’s not nefarious or cruel. He’s politely amused, and that is somehow worse. He leans in until you can smell the rich scent of his cologne. “You want to fuck or not?”
You swallow, desperately wanting to say yes. “I have to stay here. Can’t leave my friends.”
Ghost shakes his head and lowers his voice. “We don’t need to leave.”
The thick lust in his tone worms its way into your bones. From there, it oozes from the marrow, sinking into your blood and nerves, consuming every piece of you until your autonomy is nearly snatched from your control.
“You’re being awfully bold,” you murmur.
“You suggested it. I’m simply finishing it.”
“Don’t play games.”
“I’m not.” Ghost straightens a bit. “But I don’t want to unless you’re willing.”
He is sensing you hesitation, and it’s not that you don’t want to. It’s that you’re making excuses because that’s what you do. You step around things, shimmy by issues, and try to avoid as much as you can.
You cross your arms and pop a hip. “I am willing. But I don’t believe you when you say we don’t have to leave.”
He smirks. “So I can’t bend you over that box?” Ghost nods his head at a point behind you but you don’t even look.
“Very funny,” you deadpan.
Ghost straightens his back and his hand falls away from the wall. “This place has an underground area. Mostly employee only but there are a few back rooms where the…musical guests stay.”
“You know an awful lot about this place. Take women down there often?”
Ghost shakes his head. “Never. I like to scope a place out first.”
I’ve killed men over less.
What does he do for a living that he wears a fucking balaclava out in public and wants to “scope a place out” first? Every possibility flows in and then directly out of your head. Any of them could be possible.
“You’re not making a good case for yourself.”
He shrugs. “Up to you. Come with me or don’t.”
Ghost’s word and tone are casual, but you see the tension in every muscle and in the way he carries himself. There is a hesitation in him. A fear that you might say no. But the gin in your veins is strong, and it’s singing, convincing you to go with him.
When do you ever take risks?
“Okay,” you murmur. Then, more loudly. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Two
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado
#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#cod ghost#ghost simon riley#ghost smut#ghost fic#ghost fanfiction#simon riley smut#simon riley#ghost x you#simon riley x female reader#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#cod smut#cod fanfiction#call of duty fanfic#call of duty smut#cod mw ghost#mw2 smut#simon ghost riley imagine
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Road Trip
puppy!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader - SFW
warning: hybrid Leon/puppy Leon, cuteness 🥰
not proofread ✌️
“Why is there so much fog?”
You cut your eyes over to see Leon nearly pressing his face to the window, one ear flopped back showing off the soft tan fur inside.
You giggle and tug on his arm, drawing his attention to you.
“It’s because it’s still early. I wanted to get to the cabin as quickly as possible,” you ruffle his hair, righting his ear in the process.
He hums, preening under the head pats while his tail thumps against the seat.
“Kay.”
He pouts and whines once you pull your hand back to grab onto the wheel.
“Now be good,” you murmur, “it’s only a few more hours.”
He huffs but settles back in the seat, eyes returning to the window.
“It sure is pretty up in the mountains.”
You nod, “Yeah, I thought you might like a change of scenery. We can go on all kinds of hikes while we’re out here.”
“Really?”
He raises up in his seat, unbuckling his seatbelt so he can worm his face underneath your arm and nuzzle into your chest.
“Leon!” you half laugh, half scold, “I’m trying to drive.”
He squishes his face into your stomach, “Just wanna be close,” his muffled voice makes your heart melt.
You drop one hand down to pet through his hair and rub his ears making his tail wag.
“Okay, but once the road gets less paved, you’ll have to go back to your seat, alright?”
“Yes’um,” he slurs, laying his head out on your lap, half lidded eyes staring up at you.
“You’re so cute, Leon,” you coo.
A pink blush covers the bridge of his nose and he grins bashfully, “Thank you.”
Letting go for a second, you turn up the radio, letting your fall ‘mixtape’ softly play from the speakers. You put your hand right back onto Leon’s head and card your fingers through his hair, relaxing into the driver’s seat.
Stopping for gas, you coax Leon out to stretch his legs. He bounds off into the store and you’re mentally thankful you remembered to snap his collar around his neck. After paying at the pump, you pull up to the front of the gas station, getting out to go inside after Leon.
“Miss owner!” He practically bowls you over as he presses into your side.
“They have beef jerky,” his blue eyes widen as he grabs your hands to kiss the back of them, “can I have some, pretty please? I’ve been so good!”
You bite your bottom lip to fight down the urge to smile and let him pull you over to the aisle with the aforementioned beef jerky. He gestures broadly and turns to you with the biggest puppy eyes.
“Alright,” you laugh, watching his ears perk up and tail wag, “but you can only pick one, okay?”
“Okay!” he grabs one off the front and presses it into your hands.
You grab your own little snack and make sure to grab more water before checking out and guiding Leon back out into the car. Once you’re both buckled in, you notice him staring at you making your eyebrows raise in an unasked question.
He smiles and licks a stripe up your cheek before giving you a messy kiss.
“You’re my favorite, Miss owner.”
Your chest flutters and you smile back, “You’re my favorite too, Leon.”
divider: @firefly-graphics
#lipglossanon#lipglossanon masterlist#lipgloss masterlist#promptober 2023#lipglossanon promptober 2023#promptober 2023 day 10#puppy!leon kennedy#puppy!leon s kennedy x fem!reader#puppy!leon s kennedy#fem!reader#hybrid!leon s kennedy#hybrid au#hybrid!leon kennedy#fluff#short and sweet
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jackie who dates a skater!reader and gets into alot of incidents :3 kind of want harsh jackie too....>_<
n : firstly i would like to sincerely apologise for how long it took to me to finish this (embarrassing really) and secondly i hope this meets your expectations nonnie! 🤍
click for palestine / how you can help palestine
jackie was all too familiar with your love for skateboarding but that did not mean she didn’t get pissed off at your injuries when she gave you very clear and concise instructions on not to do something. no doubt she had a lot of love for you but god did you exercise her patience from time to time.
today was no different from your usual afternoons. a simple chill skate session with a couple of your friends. you weren’t trying to do anything serious, that was until peer pressure struck. your beautiful young dumb mind falling victim to the constant cheers from your friends encouraging you to do a trick you had no business trying, because quite frankly it was one you had never done before which meant you were highly likely to either,
one. fall flat on your ass
or
two. face plant right on the pavement.
and yet jackie warned you about it with her usual arms crossed over her chest and deadpan expression.
“can you not be dumb for once? this is stupid.”
and to which you reply with your usual go to response. “relax babe, i got this.” as if you weren’t going to completely obliterate your ankle in next following seconds (but that might just be an exaggeration who knows?)
you get onto your board, the adrenaline and confidence spurring you to the insane gazelle flip you were tasked with.
it was smooth failing as you began, but as you were to do the flip, by some god given miracle, a rock caught itself by one of your front wheels and down you went, obliterating your ankle in the process.
everyone came to your side, constant “you okay? you good?” flurried in as they saw your pained expression as your clutched onto your ankle.
you were dragged assisted over to a bench to which jackie had been seated on, glaring at you with unamused expression as you silently grimaced in pain hoping to draw to some sort of sympathy from your girlfriend but to no avail, your attempts were fruitless.
“you’re seriously a fucking—“
“dumbass i know, but right now i’m in need my sweet caring girlfriend.” you finished with a huff, grimacing again as you gently placed your hand over your ankle.
shooting the best puppy dog eyes to your girlfriend hoping to melt off some of the ice you’d been met with.
finally, jackie crumbled, rolling her eyes, mumbling incoherent words under her breath, like something alongside the lines of “you’re lucky i love you”
you didn’t pry or ask her to repeat as you knew the icy and harsh side would return in a heartbeat.
she ends up helping treating your ankle, half-assedly placing a kiss on the bandage after you begging her to do so (you’d argue otherwise but the truth would prevail!)
when you two are alone though, she’ll start doting on you and checking up on you constantly, because at the end of the day you matter a lot to her <3 (even if you make dumb decisions)
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Enhypen hyung line react to their so falling asleep on them
Its time
Aka i felt motivated again😌
I thought i should continue with the falling asleep reaction soooooo
Should i do a txt one?
Listening to Memorabilia did something to me and im now going through a major Enha phase
Im not complaining tho
Enjoy :3
Ps: Lucifer is my favorite ;)
Warnings: Grammar mistakes, spelling errors, not proofread, random thoughts, sorry this is so short 😭🙏
Maknae line
Heesung
Shy...
But
Not?
He's either a blushy mess or you are
If he's the blushing mess he probably wasn't expecting it
Heefused
He's happy that you trust him enough to sleep on him so comfortably
Awkwardly pats your head
😭
Poor boy doesn't know what to do
Kinda just stares off into space
But reflexively puts his arms around your waist
He probably stares at you while you sleep
In a non creepy way
May or may not fall asleep
However
If you're the blushing mess
...
Prepare yourself for some melting cuz he's gonna fluster you like there's no tomorrow
Will be all "😏?"
Like,
Sir
Please
I am but a poor innocent girl
Why must you do this to me?
I understand why this man is the most biased in enha ヽ(゜▽、゜)ノ
Moving on-
He will still cuddle you back
Hug you around your waist
Ya know, the normal
With a little extra Heespice™ added
Aka he's just hotter when he does thingss
When you wake up he kisses your forehead
Tells you to go back to sleep
And then falls asleep with you
(╥﹏╥)
Jay
Literally won't care
Lol
He would still be happy that you felt comfortable enough to pass out on top of him
But he would just treat it like an everyday experience
Even if it doesn't happen every day
You come over and sit on his lap and he just hugs you untill you fall asleep
May be mildly concerned
But by the time he has processed that he should be concerned
You've fallen asleep
And he doesn't want to wake you
So he does the chivalrous thing and falls right asleep with you
CHIVALRY IS NOT DEAD
But if you know one thing about him it's that you can't wake him up once he's fallen asleep
He sleeps like a dead body
Like me :D
So when you inevitably wake up before him you have two choices
A: go back to sleep
B: wake him up
Obviously you choose to wake him up because its no fun being awake by yourself
All you have to do is play billy poco for five seconds and it wakes any of the members up-
Anyways have fun trying to wake him up because if you do he will drag you right to bed and fall back asleep
Even if its 3:26 pm
Let the poor man rest
Jake
Flustered
There's no way around it
He's just a generally flustered puppy
He's kinda like Hee where he doesn't know what to do
But he just does things unconsciously
Im a strong believer that Jake is the heater in Enhypen
So he woud be warm
And comfy
He would rub your back
Draw little shapes on your back
When you wake up he would keep doing it and have you guess what he was drawing
I love when people do that
Excuse me while i take my mandatory combustion break-
*𝔼𝕩𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕤*
Would wrap your arms around his waist
And pull you as close as he could to himself
He just wants you to be with him
And how could you deny that face?
You cant
The answer is nobody can deny that face
Would whisper in your ear
Little affirmations
AGDJDJ
Squeezes you
HE JUST WANTS YOU TO BE NEAR HIM OK?
He hugs you like yourr a giant stuffed animal
He just loves his cuddles🥰
Will cuddle you back to sleep
Yes
( Ĭ ^ Ĭ )
Sunghoon
Oh boy
He will be confused
"why would you want to sit on my lap?"
He just doesn't understand
That he's my bias wrecker~
Even more confused when you fall asleep
Flabbergasted, you could say
I love that word
He would worry that he would wake you up
Evn though he's sitting still
And your fast asleep
But he loves it
Definitely zones out
Because he doesn't know what to do
Hell just sit there like🧍♂️😃
Puts his chin on your head
Will probably play with your fingers
Just for fun
Definitely not to keep from falling asleep
Definitely not...
*falls asleep*
Hes a sleeper
But he cant help it because your so comforting
I mean have you ever had someone fall asleep on top if you?
Ok nevermind that's never happened to me
But you can probably imagine
How
✨fabulous✨
It would be
Youur just returning the favor of sleep to him
If you two sleep for long enough one (or all) of the members will find you and take pictures
But maybe you want that
When else are you going to see how cute a sleeping Sunghoon is?
#enhypen#enha#enha x reader#enha fluff#heeseung#sim jake#sim jaeyun#park jay#park jeongseong#sunghoon#Heespice™#Spotify
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My favorite headcanon is that all the obey me brothers secretly love being the little spoon, no one but beel and asmo will admit it 
I cannot thank you enough for sending this in! You're wonderful!
I dunno if this is the direction you thought I'd take this in but hey, I wrote something! Thank you so much Annon!
Mammon may not admit it, but his dreams will.
Ever since a certain...incident, your first has become acutely aware of just how mortal you are, and though he does his best not to be overbearing, the images he witnessed rise up in his dreams sometimes.
So, he ends up crawling into your bed at the most obscene hours, or just stealing you to his own, which always starts out the same way, Mammon will pull himself into your chest, resting his ear over your heartbeat until he falls asleep, at which point, he won't stop wriggling until he ends up as the little spoon.
If you so much as whisper about it, he'll deny it and call you delusional, but that's fine, you're content with knowing you get to curl up around your sweet demon and guard him from his nightmares when he needs you.
He'll still never ask you to spoon though, these days you just hug him whenever he looks like he needs one.
Now Leviathan, you'd have an easier time talking a mountain into moving. I think out of all his brothers, he manages to be the least direct about his preferences.
He loves you, have no doubt of that, but most of the time you have to glean what it is he'd like from a few sputtered anime references. Coincidentally, an anime marathon was precisely when you decided to see if your hunch was correct.
On the bean bag you'd bought for his room, you snuggled into his side as you started episode...fifteen? No, seventeen of some anime with an obscene amount of hours to catch up on.
Levi blushed crimson, but didn't stop you. He was running on three hours of sleep...for a week, even a demon's eyes were hard to keep open after that.
He started blinking slowly, leaning further and further into you as he drifted off.
He woke up the next morning, to episode thirty mid-way through, and your chest pressed to his back. Whether you had done it on purpose or not, he was relieved as he cuddled further back into you, feeling your breath fan his neck as he fell asleep again.
Once the pact is made, Beelzebub lays all his cards on the table. The avatar of gluttony is nothing if not honest. It took you a second to process his request to be the little spoon during one of your cuddle sessions, namely because he's just so damn big, but he's also a puppy-hearted sweetheart, so you couldn't refure.
He loves it when you drape your leg over his, drawing random patterns on his hip or chest with your fingers. The sweetheart practically purred when you pressed little kisses to the back of his neck.
Occasionally though, he does like to switch it up, turns around to look at your face and nuzzle into your hair, lips lingering on your forehead as he folds you into his arms.
Beel is just painfully good at cuddling, no matter what position. Letting him be the little spoon turns out to be the perfect way to spoil your big sweetheart.
Of course Asmoedeus is the little spoon, he loves to feel your warmth slowly seep into the satin layers of his clothes, loves the way your hands wander so innocently.
You're not after his soft skin, or whatever bragging rights come with pleasuring the avatar of lust, you're just here, breathing in the scent of his warm skin and humming mindless tunes as you drift off, loving having him pressed against you, simply for the fact that he's there, he's yours.
Honestly, Asmo thinks you're selfish as any demon, hoarding his beauty all to yourself, basking leisurely in it as though assure that you'd always have time like this.
He smiles when you rug his tummy affectionately, touching him just for the sake of it. Yes, you are a selfish, possessive human, keeping him all to yourself.
A shame then, that Asmo doesn't feel the need to correct you.
Getting Satan to cuddle at all took some time. He didn't see the point at first, why position yourself to sleep and then...not? He could be using the time to read.
The first time he got close to cuddling was when he let you sit between his legs while he was reading, you with your own book or your DDD to keep you occupied.
Simply sharing space with you, feeling your breath rise and fall against his chest...he thought he'd rather like to be in your position, his head pillowed on your chest as he read, or better yet, as you read to him.
He thought he was being clever when he convinced you to assume the position without using the word "cuddle", and you continue to let him think that even though you've glimpsed his search history for cuddle positions.
The avatar of wrath nested against your chest, and for the first ten minutes, he really was reading, but then he felt your breath under his head, heard your heart beating under his ear, and the second he let his concentration break, he was out like a light.
He woke up with his head pillowed on your arm, your steady breath fanning his ear, your body cocooning his, and he thought to himself: this cuddling thing is rather nice.
Now, one would think Belphegor would be an expert, but he never stays awake long enough to cuddle, so discovering that he actually likes to be a little spoon was a complete accident.
You'd had a rough day, were half-asleep when you got home and somehow ended up at the twins' room instead of Lucifer's, where you'd been heading to drop off some work.
You saw Belphie sleeping there, and immediately decided that you had no more head for working. You dumped your bag on the floor by the door and crawled basically on top of the sleeping demon, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his soft hoodie.
Belphie wouldn't wake up until Beel came looking for you, at which point the youngest twin decided the way you were clinging to him meant you'd had a hell of a day and insisted you be left to use the Avatar of Sloth as your personal body pillow.
The reality is, Belphie may not be particularly fussed about spooning, but he makes an incredible little spoon.
This might be an unpopular opinion, but I think Lucifer actually hands the reins over to you more often than most people think.
He is chronically in control, all the damn time, so he won't ever ask you to take care of him, but he's quietly delighted when you do so of your own volition.
So, when he needs to get some decent fucking sleep but tries to get out of bed after only a thirty minute "power nap" you spoon him, violently.
You wrap both arms and legs around him and squeeze like a compression blanket, sometimes you'll even lay on top of him and take pointed, slow, deep breaths.
Lucifer will never admit it, hell he might even try and push you away and complain that he has work to do and you're being an distraction, but through that lecture, you'll notice the tension in him melting away.
His words will slow down, and you ease your grip to run your fingers through his hair as the subject switches to something menial, an outing with Diavolo, new tea he tried, a bottle of Demonus he's been saving for a special occasion, with you.
When he stops talking, you start humming, softly, quietly, and before you know it, he's fast asleep, unmoving and quiet, only his long, fluttering lashes speak of the dreams you coaxed him into.
#obey me#obey me x mc#obey me brothers x mc#obey me hcs#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan x mc#obey me satan x mc#obey me asmodeus x mc#obey me beel x mc#obey me belphegor#brothers x mc#fluff
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