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polarisbibliotheque · 2 years

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Dante & Vergil taking care of their sick s/o

Pairings: Dante x Reader; Vergil x Reader

Summary: Unfortunately, you were sick. It was time to rest for a while - luckily, the house of Sparda learnt a thing or two from Eva on taking care of sick humans.

Trigger warning: The reader is struck with sickness in this one, barely being able to move or eat. On Dante's, they talk about eating properly and not wishing to; On Vergil's, the reader is bed ridden, sleeping. If you have any sensitivity to these matters, reader discretion is advised ;)

Author’s notes: Hail the gods, I can write again! As a few of you know, my health is terrible and it kinda took away all my creativity. I've been able to start drawing again by literally letting out my feelings on paper - so I figured 'why don't I do the same thing when writing and see if something comes up from that?' and it did!

This one is pretty much from personal experience while I'm going through all this. To all my beautiful beings out there struggling with a chronic illness, I hope you get better. It's tough, but you can make it through!

Also, please picture Vergil with stay-at-home clothes on his, or comfy pyjamas. Thank you.

Dante

As you arrived at the last step of the stairs that took you to the office in the Devil May Cry, Dante’s sky-blue eyes immediately shot up at your form. You were slow and steady, finally having made your way downstairs to grab something to eat – honestly, it was a victory for you.

“And might I know why you brought that beautiful ass all the way down here, hot stuff?” Of course, Dante would never be totally rude to you… But he would question you.

After all, you were sick. As Dante remembered from how his mother took care of him when he was a kid, being sick indicated you should rest.

And that was something you usually didn’t do.

“I’m here on a quest to find food, cowboy.” You answered with a placid smile on your lips, completely ignoring the way his eyes were judging you – even though he had that classic Dante smile on his face. “Nothing too fancy though; I’m too tired to actually think about it.”

“You could’ve asked me, ya know.” He put his magazine down and got up from his chair – that’s when you knew Dante wouldn’t leave you alone. It wasn’t your intention to worry him, but ever since you got sick, he was perpetually worried.

And hovering around you like a crow.

“Don’t worry, babe. I can still fulfill the very trying quest of getting a piece of bread in the kitchen… Or something like that.” You smiled back at him, while Dante was clearly escorting you to the kitchen.

It was rather cute, actually.

“Also, how’d expect me to call you? Screaming ‘Dante, get your ass up here!’ as loud as I can?” Your look back at him made your devil laugh out loud – even though he had all his attention on every step you took. “You know, it pays not having a cellphone.”

“Yeah, you got a point there, babe. I’ll give ya that.” He let out a fun sigh, opening the kitchen door for you so you wouldn’t have to deal with that – as if it was too much trouble for you. Dante could be over thoughtful when you weren’t at your best. “But ya know, it pays for life, but not for Lady. That woman wouldn’t leave me alone if I had a cellphone.”

“Now you got a good point, cowboy.” You laughed slightly, shooting at Dante with finger guns. He winked back at you, leaning on one of the cupboards to watch what you intended to do. As soon as he understood it though, he would promptly help you. “Lady would call you every single day to collect your debts or with a job…”

“To pay the debts.” You both said at the same time, making you laugh happily probably the first time since you got struck with that nagging sickness that didn’t want to leave you be.

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure cookies aren’t the best food for sick people. Dunno, read it somewhere.” In a matter of fact, Dante remembered how his mother would insist on having him eat ‘proper food’ – meaning fruits and vegetables, only healthy stuff – when he was sick.

“But cookies are delicious.” You shrugged, taking your package of cookies and a little plate so you wouldn’t make a mess around. When you turned to the fridge to get some iced tea, though, you found Dante with his arms crossed, giving you a judging look with that beautiful, cocky smile plastered on his lips. He wouldn’t let you go that easily. “Me, cookie monster.”

Dante immediately laughed out loud at your feeble attempt on justifying your need for cookies – too tired to actually go all out on a Cookie Monster impression, you settled for saying it and just looking back at him. With how human and tiny you looked – in Dante’s eyes – it was a reason for him to laugh for weeks.

“That was the worst point you’ve ever made in an argument, babe!” He leaned back on the cupboard again, helping you reach the glasses right after as soon as you opened the fridge.

“Well. I’m not really considering this an argument.” You shot back, a tiny giggle hidden in your voice. It honestly was a very bad way to convince him to let you get away with a bunch of cookies as a proper meal. “Or else…”

“Oh, I know. Don’t need to remember.” Dante looked as if you had him at gunpoint while handing you the glass so you could fill with your iced tea. You just smiled at how goofy he was. “But your body needs strength right now… And I know, I know, chocolate is a wonderful thing to give you a kick, but it won’t last forever. You need somethin’ better, babe. C’mon.”

Dante leaned by your side so he could level his eyes with yours and you couldn’t escape from his sight. Not like you’d ever want to escape his eyes, though: you could stare at that sky for an eternity, and it wouldn’t be enough time to soothe how much your heart longed for him. You allowed your hands to rest on the cupboard and sighed once your task to pour some iced tea was over.

“I know, babe… I’m just… I dunno…” You sighed once again, entangling the fingers of one of your hands with his. “I’m tired and I don’t really feel like eating, you know…? I convinced myself to eat cookies because they’re delicious, not because I do want to eat. Honestly, I could spend the whole day tossed in bed, sleeping and recovering, but… I guess my mom would always say we can’t give in to sickness and here I am, trying not to give in. It isn’t much, but…”

“Ei, ei… Got it, babe. Don’t worry.” As soon as you started to mumble, Dante caressed your hand, making you look back at his kind eyes. “No need to overexplain, I get it. You’re doin’ your best, and it’s a lot already. Ya know, tomorrow I can try fixin’ somethin’ for breakfast, what do ya think?”

“You…? Cooking?!” You made sure to look as shocked and baffled as you could, making Dante pretend he was insulted with your reaction.

“Hey, I’m a decent cook when I want to! How do ya think I survived alone in this joint all this time?!”

“On pizza…?” He knew you’d say that – and he also knew you were having fun with that little ‘argument’. It was heavenly to see you smile once more.

“Well… I’ll have you know ice cream isn’t pizza.” Dante held the door open for you once again as you followed him back to the shop, laughing out loud at his comeback. “And strawberry sundaes count as fruit!”

“A very balanced diet indeed!” You shot back, having him help you settle the food in the center table, right in front of the huge couch you were already slouching your tired body in.

“Jokes aside, babe, I can do a couple things. Mom used to make this fruit with honey on the oven when we were sick… I’ll see if I can find it for ya.”

As Dante sat by your side and took upon him the task to open the package of cookies, you just observed your red devil. Now you could understand how he was so good at taking care of sick humans: it all came from Eva. And he was even offering to try to remember something from his childhood to help you – honestly, if Dante could see himself with your eyes, he’d see how golden you painted his heart.

“You aren’t gonna feed me some weird demonic fruit for health and stamina, right…?” But of course, you were the other side of his soul. And that meant you couldn’t let the joke just fly by without saying it out loud.

“Nah, that would be a remedy from papa Sparda. You’re not that bad yet, hot stuff.” Dante giggled alongside you, winking while handing you the plate filled with cookies.

“Yikes, I can only imagine how it’d be.” You had one of your eyebrows raised, making him laugh as your devil got comfortable by your side – taking up a lot of space, as always.

Not that it bothered you: as Dante occupied his space, you always took it as a chance to lean on him or put your legs over his lap. It was already unconscious between you two.

“Not as bad as it sounds.” He shrugged, leaning his head on the couch right after. “The ones with Holy Water, though. Those are worse than human medicine.”

“You mean the ones Verge bottoms up when he’s badly injured…?” As you asked, Dante just confirmed with his head, making you shiver just imagining. “You know… He has issues.”

“Ha! It runs in the family!” Even though it wasn’t such a joyful thing to say, Dante was laughing out loud. You had a complimentary sense of humor.

“Hmmm… I don’t think we have everything you need for breakfast tomorrow, though…”

“Don’cha worry about that. I’ll pick some things up in the market before you wake up, babe.” And, as you were getting ready to respond, Dante immediately started talking so you couldn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll wake up early tomorrow. Again, don’t worry. It’s not like it’s gonna kill me, ya know? I’m built up like a demon.”

“You’re horrible.” It was the only thing you could put in words after his little joke at the end of his phrase. Dante couldn’t stop himself from laughing alongside you. “You were doing so well.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m still doin’ well.” Dante nudged you with his shoulder, making your cheeks blush slightly. You’d say it was from the sickness, but, even after years together with your devil hunter, he still could make you blush. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You always do, Dante. Always.” You lifted a cookie to his lips, which Dante promptly accepted. Before you came around, it had been years he didn’t eat cookies like that. Dante had faint memories of Eva cooking them for him and Vergil – and that alone made him not taste cookies for quite a while.

But with you, memories seemed not to hurt anymore. They seemed to glow in a golden, forgotten place in Dante’s mind – somewhere he knew those things were never coming back and those tastes, laughs and touches would never be felt again… But, somehow, he could see them for their beauty, not for their sorrow. They would leave a bitter taste in his mouth, yes, but the sweetness of it all made the unpleasantness worth it.

“You too, babe. You too…” And Dante nipped playfully at your nose, gladly receiving another biscuit from you. “My lil’ cookie monster.”

Vergil

Who would have ever guessed the Dark Slayer would be so methodical when taking care of a sick human?

To be fair, it was to be expected. Vergil was methodical with everything he did, so one could only guess he would be the same way in all aspects of his life.

But.

Taking care of a human wasn’t really in his vast list of abilities. Vergil had an inhuman talent with killing and moving at speed of light, laying waste to all demons who decided to challenge him – and that really meant all of them. Ranking, power, poise, or weapons didn’t matter: Vergil would eventually slay all, one way or another.

So, you never thought he would be so… Good at caring and healing.

It was a very pleasant surprise, though.

Around 2:30 a.m. Vergil was silently sitting on his chair, reading one of his many poetry books while you slept on the bed – safe and sound. Four minutes passed until he checked the clock once more: it was time for you to take your medicine again.

Laying his book aside, Vergil took the pills and a glass of water – carefully waiting for you since hours prior, when he first set up his guard to make sure you would wake up to take your medicine once more – and sat on the edge of the bed by your side.

It was the first time in days you were sleeping so peacefully. That last week had been hell for you, and Vergil felt a weird twist in his chest every time he thought about it – he had suffered from all kinds of diseases in his lifetime but seeing someone he loved so deeply being hurt like that and knowing he was almost powerless to do something about it vexed him more than he initially thought it would.

The fact that your body was more fragile than his for not having his demonic heritage didn’t help at all… And not being able to solve everything through his own power and will triggered memories he wanted to leave locked for good.

Brushing his fingers carefully on your cheek, Vergil slowly brought you from your slumber to reality once more. You fluttered your eyes open as he felt your skin slightly damp from sweat – at least, the pills seemed to be working.

“It’s time to take your medicine, love. Then you can go back to sleep.” His voice was but a murmur in the dark of the room – you could only see a faint light by the side of his chair; the one he used to read while guarding you in your slumber.

“Hmmm…” And even your voice seemed tired. Vergil didn’t like having to wake you from such a calm sleep, but it was necessary. He wondered if Eva felt the same way when he was nothing but a child, burning with fever during silent, endless nights. Vergil couldn’t ask her, but he could assume she did. “What time is it…?”

“It’s late. Here.” Vergil didn’t want you to think much – you obviously needed to rest and worry your mind about time and responsibilities wouldn’t get you very far. You took the pills from his hand without questioning, taking them with a few sips of water.

But of course, Vergil was smart, and he also saw intelligence in you. As you took the medicine, you took the chance to glance at the clock and check the time. Indeed, it was late.

“Verge…” Your speech was a little slurred and positively drunk from sleep. “You stayed up all this time to…?”

“Yes. Now, you go to sleep, angel.” He didn’t raise his voice from his velvety murmur in the dark. Taking the time to lay one of his hands on your forehead, Vergil calmly checked your temperature, concluding everything was fine after double checking it with his hand on your neck. As he was about to leave, you held his hand on place.

On the faint light of the moonlight, you were able to see the Dark Slayer’s silver eyes staring back at you, filled with worry.

Such a human gaze in such harsh eyes.

“You have to rest as well.” You whispered back, making Vergil go speechless.

It was a rather difficult feat, making the house of Sparda speechless. But you had the ability to do that with both Dante and Vergil – and, someday, you had to test your powers with Nero. Kyrie was the only known being to be able to do that with the three of them – and it was a title she would gladly share with you.

One would say it was a power greater than that of the Slayers themselves.

“Y/n…”

“Hey…” You lovingly caressed his hand as you allowed a tired smile to fill your lips. Your eyes could barely stay open but touching him was enough for you to know he was paying attention. Vergil would always be attentive to your words. “It’s late… You said it yourself. If you keep pushing like that… Don’t you think you’ll get sick too…?”

“I’m a demon, y/n. It takes a lot more to get me ill.” His answer could cut a diamond in half, but Vergil’s hand caressed yours in return. You always knew how to read his feelings beyond the harshness of his words: Vergil could hide them in his speech, but not in his heart – and that was always so obvious to you.

“Half demon.” You whispered back, smiling again as you opened your eyes once again – only to meet Vergil’s speechless stare. “And I guess it’s the other half… That kept you up so late… And that has been taking care of me… So beautifully. Right…?”

Vergil would never know how you did that. It was as if you could easily see the human in him not even he could see – you had a strange power to know when his instincts were purely demonic or purely human.

And you were right. How many nights had Eva stayed up until late hours of the night to check on him when he was sick? How methodical was she with the time he had to take his medicine? How many times had he woken up in the middle of night just to find his mother sitting right by his side with a book on her lap, asleep from exhaustion after making sure he was alright?

Everything he knew about taking care of someone else came from her – his human mother. And that instinct, that ache in his chest that made him do the same thing whenever you looked too fragile to get up on your own, certainly came from a part of Vergil that wasn’t demonic.

It wasn’t an instinct of survival nor territoriality. It was an instinct of making sure someone he loved deeply wouldn’t suffer and would smile once more. An instinct of wanting to see you shine again – of wanting to have you, safe and sound, back in his arms and not worrying he might lose you.

It was the same instinct of protection that made him thirst for power so many years ago – but this time it was… A little different.

“I can take it. You, in the other hand, can’t.” His eyes were, now, understanding; his hands moving a lot more softly.

You had a way to find the Dark Slayer’s heart under thick coats of ice like no one else had.

“Not right now.” You furrowed your eyebrows, pretending to be offended by his words. “But I do remember when you… Slept so soundly on my lap… Out of exhaustion one day.”

“Hmmm. I was badly injured.” Vergil tried to regain some of his pride with his posture while sitting, his regal demeanor coming back for a few moments. That made you smile more than you expected – as best as you could in that moment.

Oh, if only you knew how you could melt his heart with so little.

“Well, well… Today, I am quite sick…” You sighed, still allowing that golden smile to fill your lips. Vergil would argue you were a creature he had no knowledge of, but he knew your blood was purely human. And that never ceased to baffle him – there was something in you that made you look ethereal.

Or maybe, that was just his human heart making sure he knew how much his soul cared and longed for yours.

“If you’re not willing to rest… Can I at least rest in your arms…?” Your murmured question caught Vergil off guard, even if he didn’t show it in his eyes or icy façade. “Just like you did that day…”

Vergil knew what you were doing – for he was aware that, if he at least leaned on that bed, it wouldn’t take him long to fall asleep. His body was tired, and his eyes were already starting to scramble the words from the poems he loved so much. While waiting for the right time to wake you up, Vergil had to take of his glasses and rub his eyes twice – wondering where all that tiredness came from.

Perhaps, the worry of taking care of a loved one was enough to make one exhausted – not physically, but emotionally. Vergil would never want to admit that, and it puzzled him deeply, but feeling could be tiring as well.

“If that is what you wish…” He didn’t have the heart to argue. You were asking for his company, his presence, and that was much more than anything else he could have expected.

Because, at that point, you could ask him anything that Vergil would make it happen – but, out of all the possibilities, demonic and human, you asked to have him. How could he ever deny that?

“It is…” And you closed your eyes as he left a soft kiss on your forehead. “Maybe you could fall asleep with me too…”

“Hmmm. I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” Vergil murmured in the very same tone as he wandered around the room to leave his slippers along with your other shoes and finally turn off the faint, amber light that kept him awake while reading.

Between sitting and laying down by your side on the bed, Vergil cuddled you the best way he could. Your arms rested on his chest while his arms embraced you, safe and sound. That put a smile on your face.

“If I didn’t know better… I’d never say you’re half demon…”

“Oh…?”

“I’d say you’re my guardian angel.”

As your whisper lingered in the moonlit air, Vergil’s hand gently played with your hair – the way his mother would do when he was younger. That phrase inspired a maelstrom of confusing emotions he wasn’t expecting at that time of the night… He only knew he suddenly had the urge to hold you tighter; to keep you protected from whatever harm the world could bring you.

If Vergil hadn’t checked your temperature before, he would dismiss your words as nothing but delirious musings of a feverish mind.

Finally settling with a golden swell on his chest from what you had just said, Vergil allowed himself to close his eyes – a faint smile playing on his lips while his hands kept caressing your hair.

Even if he dismissed those words in the future, he could savor them during that moment. It was a secret whispered in the deep of the night – and you were sick, after all.

And so, you drifted away in your sleep in the wings of an angel.

#dante x reader #vergil x reader #dante imagine #vergil imagine #dmc #devil may cry #dmc imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dante sparda #vergil sparda #honestly Vergil wearing slippers is a cute concept on its own #and I'll never get enough of Dante being bffs with his s/o

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yeojaa · 4 years

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( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag. You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash. You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing. jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. idiots to lovers. fluff, angst, smut. the holy trifecta, babies! explicit, obviously.

tags / warnings. mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc. 12.2k of nonsense. pure nonsense, i tells ya.

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her. i love you both sm!!! ✨💜

author note. the long-awaited fic is here!! i really hope you enjoy it. if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something? i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot. anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you! stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker. That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him. It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard.

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove. Sometimes, she’s by herself; often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste. They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique. Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be. You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit.

“He has no idea.” It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts. “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder. How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair? It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie.

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”. Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else. Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention. Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him. Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face.

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,” she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does. She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough. Zero tact, though. Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble. You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested. “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags. (God, what awful taste.) There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best. (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction. You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place. Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on. When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes. He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW. Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress is.

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect. It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?” He upspeaks. It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first. A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect. “What’s the item and the name it’s under?” You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine. Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

You’re floored. This is Jeon Jungkook? This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger? You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face. It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers. “I’ll grab it! The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly. He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends. He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance. It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears. There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend? I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.” Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off. “She said she was leaving on Friday.” Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made. “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall. You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.

You do feel bad. Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this. For hurting this stranger. (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality. He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip. He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet.

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off. Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in. (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.) As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth. “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend. Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid. Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours. Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say. Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation. “Oh, maybe. I’m sorry.” The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t. That’s a thing, right? Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?

God, you’re an altruist.

“It’s fine.” When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not. You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word. (You won’t.)

“Here it is!” Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands. If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing. You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand. He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying. You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found. Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start. Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,” you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands. It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card. The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently. You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder. It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum. (You either, but still.)

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers. “What?”

“You know— that!” She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago. “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,” you correct.

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response. There it is.

“What?” There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable.

“What?” It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery. You can read every emotion that runs through her expression: shock, displeasure, confusion.

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth. (She really does remind you of your little sister.) “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder. You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now. There was no way he didn’t.

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts. That’s all.” You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done. You’d want to know if you were him. Consider it an act of goodwill.

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind. What’s done is done. Now he knows, or something close to it. The chips would simply fall where they were meant to.

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him.

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift. She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway. Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding. It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship.

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening.

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter. “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression. “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.” You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person. Sensible.

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front. You suppose it’s your responsibility now. You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell.

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?” Upspeaking again. How cute.

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.” You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter. “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“ It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable. “Thanks. I didn’t even notice. Um, I can come pick it up today?” There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back. “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out. He truly was a sucker.

“That’s fine. We’re open until six tonight.”

“I’ll be there before dinner.” As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough. “Before six, I mean. Um, is around five-thirty okay?”

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation. Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation. “Of course. We’ll see you then.”

He hangs up immediately.

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last. It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest. You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon. You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday. Somehow, you like it more. The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair. It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person. (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him. Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.

“O-oh. It’s you.” The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified. “I m-mean, just—” He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again. “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.” Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.

“That’s right,” you say evenly, expression neutral. It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary. Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room. You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?” He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store. You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again. He makes the same trip twice more. “Can I have it?” To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed. He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress. Good job, you think.

“Of course.” You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter. Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip. You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything. (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment. Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides. It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended. Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact. “May I have it, please?”

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand. You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable. Is he going to say thank you? Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems. “Why did you do it?” There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?” You know what he means. You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?” Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you. You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him; it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side. For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies. It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his. “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?”

“What do you mean?”

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror. He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head. It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin. (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes. Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.” For once, he doesn’t sutter. The lisp doesn’t present itself, either. Was this the same Jungkook? You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?” He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name. How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit? It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?” The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no. You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly. It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.

“I mean like— talk talk.” The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else. His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.

“Sure, we can talk talk.”

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“W-what? No!” Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears. “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding. Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance. He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow. Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down. His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving. You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie. It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall. “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly. “Huh?”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Um—” He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence. There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking. “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out. “You want to talk about… you?”

“That sounds bad.” The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.

“It’s fine. We’ll talk at dinner.”

He nods. You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy. Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?” He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden. Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure. (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.” Everything here is incredible. You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place. His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel. You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish.

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections. Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?” You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute. “So?”

“What did you want to talk about?” If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often. As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper.

“Oh.” Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth. He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle. You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting. He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected. It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline. “What?”

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot. You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip. Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.” It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you. You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel. Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you. You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable. A little different, sure, but altogether nice. Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake. You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not. His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does. (Seriously, how big are his eyes?) You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth. Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?” He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.

“What?” You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out. It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent. Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.” Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare. “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?” The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.

“That’s not my name.” The bite disappears past his teeth. You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook. Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do. Juvenile in a way but enticing in another. You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,” he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down. (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.) “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation. He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations. He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea. Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,” you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.” He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact. “You care about people. You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone. You want to do what’s right. Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words. Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey. He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts. He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up. He decorates his apartment with the most random things: limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates. He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years. All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on. (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.) He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his). He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,” he insists from behind his coffee cup.

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable.

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.” It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap. It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now. He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had. Youngin is good for him, though. You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips. When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone. “Girls are scary.”

You laugh. Cackle, really. You can’t help it. He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon. He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak. He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says. (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary. Death is scary. Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.” He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest. From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture; from him, it’s patient. “Girls aren’t scary. Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.”

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good. Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags. Like he’s living life in greyscale.

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze. Instead, he laughs. “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.” You’re adamant, insistent. He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft. An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.

You want to protect him, teach him to fly. Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes. He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it. He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.

“Fine,” he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long. It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused. It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days. You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse. If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton. He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew). He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it. (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?” It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso. It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm.

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him. He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for. To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings. “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is.

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence? (You wish you were joking.) It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.

“This one?” He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face. Medium-weight cashmere. Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist. It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,” you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels. “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law. You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.” He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.

Your response is a shrug. “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.” You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates. You know there’ll be something good on the menu.

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist. You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him. Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink. Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch. That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other. “Hey! You’re leaving already?” It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone. It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes. For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes. “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.” A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh? Well, that’s certainly something new. Good for him, you think.

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.” It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words. “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her. Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes). Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date. It’s a big deal.

“Yeah—“ Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky. “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“I will,” he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place. It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look. “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever). It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you. He’s going on a second date, after all. Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant. You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine. Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine. The two of you are friends. You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come. Baby boy was growing up.

“Y’know.” You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment. It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?” He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.

You wiggle your hand dismissively. “Second date and all that.”

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on. It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots. “Just stick around. I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door. “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,” you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake. It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook. This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook: Hey. from jeon jungkook: I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook: If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook: Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date. It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing. (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook: i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops. Of course. He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions. (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook: it’s fine! have fun! to jeon jungkook: turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up. Good, you think. About time he finds someone nice. You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact. He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic.

“I want you to meet her,” he mumbles, like that makes it better. As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?” He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over. (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.) You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.” But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is. Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately. “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that. No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman. It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set. Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise. It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch. (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.” His vague response speaks volumes. The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery. When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway. “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!” Of course. It’s obvious. She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that. (He is.) “I’m not coming to dinner.”

“You’re already in the car,” he reasons.

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve. Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.” When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him. Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal. Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,” he repeats, almost pleading. You can’t look at him. You won’t. The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause.

“Fine.” You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off. You’re not actually mad. Just worried. You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand. It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person. You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that. Should, anyway. You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it. He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line. (Truthfully, it’s your fault. All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by. You’ve got a reputation to uphold.

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat? How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer: you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.

“What’re you doing here?” At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness. Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really). “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge. It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired. So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance. He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin. You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day. “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,” the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well. Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,” you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold. You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else. If you had to guess, it’s her perfume. It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses. You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter. You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare. “So?”

“W-what?”

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning. Something’s happened. Must have. There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?” You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him. He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression. He’s stalling, you can tell. You hate when he does this. You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small. “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced. What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges. You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual. Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned. (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.

“So.” You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves. You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest. He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs. Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.” The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said. Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look. It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?” It explodes out, a question that demands an answer.

He’s staring past your head, unblinking. You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp. “I c-couldn’t. It was just…” The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”

“Just—” There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot. He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise. He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket. “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean? Feel right?

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete. It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down. Didn’t he understand that? Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’” You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window. “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately. He doesn’t.

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?”

“You like her, right?”

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out. Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there. “So, you like her.” It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way; you don’t mean it in any way but supportive. You just want him to be happy. “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer. But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise. Hope, maybe? Fear?

“What?” You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight. He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer. (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest. His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair. He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer. Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,” he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.” It’s cruel. “You’re making a bad choice. You’re into this girl. Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements. “I’m not dumb.” There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask. It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay. Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question. You can’t blame her. You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.

“What?” It’s less snark, more sigh. You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter. “You’ve been in a bad mood all week. I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.” She’s right, of course. You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what. “Did something happen?”

You grit your teeth. An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,” she tries again, concerned.

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!” She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly. “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough. So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right. It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload. (Maybe it’d be helpful. Probably. But you’ve never found comfort in other people. At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.” Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on. “It’s fine. Really.” You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I just need to get some sleep.” And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action. It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.” You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater. He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,” he mutters, refusing to meet your stare. At least, you think he’s refusing. It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes. It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away. It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?” You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated. He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding. “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.” This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him. He hums a noise but offers nothing further.

This is how it’ll be then. Fine. If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go. He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth. “I— I don’t— I didn’t say that.”

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now. Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.

“W-what?”

“Tell me.” You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round. “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters. What have I got that she doesn’t?”

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. You think he might say no, outright refuse. You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.

“You’re funny. You’re honest. You speak your mind.” You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people. He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him. “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t. You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen. As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.” He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again. “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”

There’s something thick in your throat.

“You make me want to try.” He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it. “Y-you make things not so scary.”

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you. He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself. You make me laugh.” He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.” You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit. Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs. Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words. They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism. “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention. “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here. Just a chance.” He’s got a peculiar look on his face. “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, he’s close. Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be. There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down. The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.

“You kind of ruined my life. I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense. You’d ruined his life? (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.) You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.

“I’m kidding.”

It feels like whiplash. You’ve created a monster.

“But you do owe me, I think. So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing. He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams.

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out. He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed. He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money. He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him). If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either. Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge. He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,” he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you. You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom. “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff. It’s adorable.

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends. You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head. You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups. Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together. Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects. Surely there’s more to this. Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?” You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”

“A playsuit?” You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in. Would it even fit? Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns. “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected. Or at least, you think it does. If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim.

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal. He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,” he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds. The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs. He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick. “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.

“Use your words, gorgeous.” As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck. He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob. Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh. He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be. The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.

“You like this, don’t you?” His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy. “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,” you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts. The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin. Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.

“Good girl.” Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips. You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall. Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips. “Such a good girl for me. My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she? Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard. Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate. It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest. Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it. Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear. You know he’ll catch you. “I want you.”

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same. Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm. The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,” he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer. Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am. I am. I am,” you chant, tears welling along your lash line. They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you. It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you.

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much. Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings @veronawrites @notmontae97 @papillonsgf i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

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clonewarslover55 · 3 years

Note

congrats on sticking with the writing for a year! I love reading your stuff and can't wait to see what you put out in the future.

If your still taking requests can I have a bad batch x reader (you can pick which catcher it is) where they aren't together but like each other and have to pretend to be parents to omega to get out of trouble?

(I hope that makes sense. If it doesn't or it doesn't appeal to you, it's alright. I'm just a sucker for Star Wars Dads like the batch and Din😆)

Thanks!

Pretending to be Omega's parents with Hunter

Hunter X GenderNeutral!Reader

Thank you so much anon!! And yes, this makes perfect sense!! I really loved this request actually!

Notes: I chose Hunter because he is the main dad of the group! Also the reader is gender neutral!

Warnings: Spoilers for the Bad Batch, reader has known them for years so this fits together better(established relationship), Reader and Hunter have some mutual pinning going on ;)

You had worked with the Bad Batch throughout most of the Clone Wars, and they considered you a trustworthy assaset. Of course you were a low life like many others in the galaxy.

You worked odd jobs to make ends meet. From Bounty Hunter to smuggler, you had done it all. The Bad Batch loved you and all that you did, especially when you helped them on jobs or with their ship.

Once the war ended you were making good money off of many jobs, well until some certain clones came knocking on your door. You couldn’t say no to your boys, so you willingly welcomed them back into your life.

Now you were on the run with them; your future career in odd jobs possibly went down the drain now that the Empire was on your ass as well. But oh was it fun working with them again. Sadly Crosshair was left behind and now a slave to the Empire instead of the Republic. You’d miss the grouchy bastard. You’d help your boys get him back soon though.

Since the last time you saw them, the Bad Batch had also gained a new member. A sweet little blonde girl named Omega. She was absolutely adorable, and Hunter had clearly adopted her in his head. He’d do anything for that kid.

It was precious. And it only made your attraction to him grow.

You had always liked Hunter a bit more than the others…..In a different way as well. You believed the feeling was mutual. Well, you hoped it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The Havoc Marauder,(The Bad Batch’s ship), Space.*

Currently you are sitting in the ship, Omega sitting in your lap. You were telling her a story about some Bounty Job you had done a few years back. It was an incredible story, and of course you were the badass in it.

You exaggerated the story a bit, and Hunter clearly noticed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, Hunter looking at you with a knowing smirk. You winked at him before turning your full attention back to Omega.

Her eyes were wide as she listened with great interest. Every now and then she’d interrupt you with a question. She was extremely curious, but still a sweetheart.

“We’re nearly there. The market town is rather large but we could still be noticed. The Empire clearly has a hold on the city.” Tech spoke, glancing at everyone in the ship. “The only way in is with disguises.”

You sat down Omega, “We’ll finish the story later.” You whispered, winking at the young girl. She grinned widely, winking back.

Wrecker laughed from the back, setting down the Gonk droid. “Yeah! Our armor does stand out huh?!” He punched Echo’s shoulder, Echo winching and glaring at his brother. You grinned at the boys.

“Oh I have an idea for Hunter and you.” Tech looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tech knew you and Hunter had been pinning after one another for some time, neither of you making a move. So he’d make the move for you both.

You could nearly read their minds at this point. So you knew just what he had in mind. You glared at Tech, “Bastard.” You mouthed, Tech shrugging his shoulders. Hunter raised his eyebrows, glancing at you both.

“What?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms as he stood up from his seat.

“You two go in, wearing civilian clothes of course. Take Omega…..and pretend to be her parents. No one would have any idea who you are. You’d just be a couple out with their child, shopping the day away.” Hunter glanced at you, something alight in his dark eyes.

“I love this idea!!” Omega chirped, grinning widely at you and Hunter. “We’d be a good family!!” Tech and Echo smirked at you and Hunter. Wrecker looked as oblivious as Omega, but still just as happy.

You smiled nervously at Hunter who merely nodded his head. “Fine.” You spoke as you stood up, walking into the back to change your clothes. Hunter patted Tech’s shoulder as passed him, following you.

Tech grinned at the others once you and Hunter left the room. Omega even knew what was going on. A perfect plan to get you two to hook up!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The surface of the planet, the ship docks of the market town*

You walked off the ship, your hand holding Omega’s much smaller one. You, Omega, and Hunter were in similar civilian clothes, looking like an average couple with their daughter.

Echo followed with Tech, Wrecker staying on the ship as backup and as a guard. You grinned at their civilian clothes. Echo looked droid like and Tech was in some ugly outfit. Poor Tech looked uncomfortable while Hunter looked extremely comfortable.

“Alright. Separate ways, we grab what we need and bounce.” Hunter spoke, his firm voice making you pay great attention to him. You stared at his lips as he explained the plan.

“Everyone got it?” You nodded even though you hadn’t really listened…..His lips and handsome face were just that distracting. Tech and Echo left first, swiftly disappearing within the crowd of people.

“Alright then. Come on.” Hunter grabbed Omega’s free hand, leading you and her into the market town crowd.

You gently squeezed Omega's hand, “Have that list memorized sweetie?” You questioned, your voice sweet and dripping with honey. Omega grinned at the nickname, nodding eagerly. “Yup!” Hunter smiled back at his “daughter” and you, a soft look in his dark eyes.

About halfway through your little shopping spree Omega paused, looking at a toy cart. You smiled and pulled away from your “husband.” You led Omega to the cart, holding her tiny hand still. Hunter sighed, following you both.

She picked up a toy clone trooper, looking back at you and Hunter with puppy dog eyes. “How can I say no to that?!” You grinned, tossing the vendor the correct amount of credits.

“You spoil her.” Hunter spoke, putting his arm around you. You shrug, “So do you.” Hunter glared at you playfully, the vendor smiling at you both. “Perhaps.” Hunter spoke, leading you away by your waist; Omega followed, one hand holding Hunter’s and the other holding her new toy.

Once you two had all the goods you stopped, out of the way of the crowd of course. “We do make a decent couple don’t we?” You whispered quietly, Hunter’s face inches from yours so he could hear you.

Hunter nodded, Omega ignoring you both as she watched the crowd pass. “We should do this more often shouldn’t we?” He spoke, teasingly brushing his nose against yours. Your face got hot, a wide smile coming onto your face.

“Yes we should.” You whispered, your eyes flicking to his lips. Hunter smirked, finally connecting his lips with yours.

The wonderful kiss was interrupted by Omega screaming, “Ew!!! Tech! Echo! They’re kissing!!!!” You busted out laughing as she screamed over the comms. Hunter clearly died a little bit, hiding his face in your neck.

You laughed harder when you heard the laughing replies. “We’ll never live this down will we?” Hunter questioned. You shrugged, “I hope not.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his once again.

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @catsnkooks @azem-thefourteenth @colorfulloverbatturkey @blueberrybubblesandboba @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @fyrepen33 @mistflyer1102 @kamino-mermaid @cherry-cokes-posts @cherry-cokes-world @darmanfi @silverinkandstardust @chewychewyque @majorshiraharu @ravenpuff01 @808tsuika @meabravo @daffodin @commanderrivercc-3628 @captainrexstan @girlvader @ct7567329 @just-some-girl-92 @marvel-starwars-nerd @valkyrieofthehighfae @my-awakened-ghost @mackstrut @katethecrazy @lightning-wolffe @dominhoe-squad @qui-gon-jinn-and-tonic

Want to join my taglist? The link is on my materlist!!

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #clone force 99 #bad batch spoilers #bad batch #sergeant hunter #tech #wrecker #echo #arc trooper echo #crosshair #omega #hunter x reader

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angelofsmalldeathandthecodeine · 4 years

Text

Aguamenti

Request: “Can you do 1 and 8 on the smut list for Fred or George?”

(”Bite me”/”You’re so sexy when you’re mad”)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: I didn't want to make it too smutty just because I didn’t think it fit too well with everything going on so its a little trash :/ I still love my boi Freddie

Warnings: A LITTLE SMUTTY

Upon proposition, both you and Harry had agreed to teach what he was calling ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ a series of spells and techniques that were deprived of them since Umbridge had arrived. You were a little hesitant at first, and not because of Umbridge, god how you hated that woman. Your worries lay with the responsibility that you and Harry had if entering this agreement, you didn’t want to put anyone in danger.

Of course, you and Harry had become almost experts in the field of Defence Against the Dark Arts, you especially due to your close relationship with Lupin. Remus had taught you pretty much all you needed to know in the comfort of your own home, whereas Harry kind of had to pick it up considering the various dangerous circumstances he seemed to land himself in year after year.

You couldn’t disappoint Harry, not when he needed you, he was like family after all.

“Today me and Y/N are going to be demonstrating a typical duel” Harry announced to the rather sheepish looking crowd “and more importantly, how to win one” you chimed in successfully gaining a laugh from the room.

After bowing your heads, you and Harry began to take your places from one end of the room to another with each other.

“Ready?” Harry asked for confirmation; however, you couldn’t help but get distracted last minute. In the corner of your eye you noticed one of your best friends, Fred, flirting with Angelina Johnson.

You, Fred and George had been friends ever since you joined the Quidditch team in your first year, but recently you had felt differently towards Fred. Getting older gave you feelings you didn’t necessarily understand and on the most part Fred just seemed to annoy you these days – especially when he flaunted around girls.

“Actually Harry, change of plans” you began, causing him to lower his wand in a state of bewilderment “I think it’s best if we use a student with less knowledge for the demonstration, you know, for uh, a better example of the power they’ll be up against” you tried to justify your decision.

“Right, right, yeah of course!” Harry agreed, just as you knew he would, that boy was too nice for his own good sometimes “who did you have in mind?”

“Fred” you said without hesitation or a second thought, getting his attention instantly.

Fred looked up and gave you an overly confident smile which just boiled your blood further “love to” was his only reply.

You smiled back sarcastically, gritting your teeth in the process.

Beginning to take your place once more, Harry was replaced by a much taller, attractive Fred. He proceeded to roll his sleeves, giving you a glimpse at the veins running throughout his arms.

Pay attention

“Ready Fred?” Harry initiated “Ready to win? Sure am mate” Fred replied, gaining a giggle from a lot of the girls, you just rolled your eyes.

“Bite me, Weasley” you replied, a little more frustrated than you were five minutes ago, causing Fred to smirk.

Harry nodded and you and Fred proceeded to walk towards each other for the initial bow. As you both reached the middle, Fred bent down slightly more so you could hear him.

“You’re so sexy when you’re mad” he said, causing you to instantly blush. You knew he was a flirty guy, but you didn’t think he had ever said anything as flirty as that to you before.

Turning around to walk to the end of the room gave you what felt like forever to think about what had just happened, getting slightly distracted from the matter.

“Wands to the ready” Harry announced, arm still mid-air.

You were now directly facing Fred and looking him in the eye seemed a little awkward considering your flustered state. In attempts to compose yourself you looked to the crowd gathered either side of you and caught glimpse of Angelina smiling at Fred.

Instantly you were reminded of your frustration which only engaged you in a deep focus against Fred, locking eyes with him confidently.

Harry swiftly dropped his arm, indicating the beginning of the duel.

“Aguamenti!” you pronounced clearly with a flick of your wand before Fred was even able to utter a single letter.

Suddenly Fred was flung to the back wall through the jet-like force of the water that hit him.

Fred lay on the floor, drenched from head to toe gaining a roaring laugh from those watching – especially George and Ron.

You smirked at Fred, heavily breathing at not just the thrill of winning the duel but the sight of Fred, clothes wet and him distressed.

What was wrong with you.

“Hmm, yeah, not really the spell I had in mind but good job Y/N” Harry commented as Ginny began to help Fred up, still laughing in his face.

“Yeah well, I thought I’d leave the rest up to you” you replied in a sort agitated tone which left a puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“Got to go Harry, you’ll be alright without me today won’t you?” you quietly spoke to him, who just nodded, completely understanding.

As you began walking towards the exit you were stopped in your tracks upon hearing a voice that had started to infuriate you a little too much recently.

“Y/N wait” you heard him get closer “I’ll come with you, gotta get changed out of these bloody wet clothes anyway” he explained, giving a genuine smile.

“great” you mumbled giving another sarcastic smile.

On the way to the common room you seemed to forget all about the incident that had wound you up, it was strange that Fred had the ability to make you do that – forget about your worries. Joking and laughing all the way up made you feel like a kid again, first year meeting the twins.

That was until you reached the common room, and Fred proceeded to take off his jumper of course. You were sitting in Fred’s empty dorm room, on his bed watching him find dry uniform to change into. The moment had never seemed weird until now – until you couldn’t stop staring at his bare chest through the now transparent shirt that clung to him.

You could feel your heart rate increase as you started to heavily breathe once more, transfixed on Fred. An overwhelming sensation began to consume your stomach.

Fred was rambling on about the upcoming Quidditch game, but you couldn’t help yourself any longer. You knew exactly what had been troubling you these past couple of months with Fred and you were about to prove it.

You stood up, growing closer to Fred who had his back turned to you as he still searched for dry clothes crouched over his trunk.

“Fred” you simply said, gaining his attention.

He turned to face you slowly standing, a little worried about what you were about to say from your posture and breathing.

“yeah?”

“Shut up” you lifted your heels to reach Fred, locking your fingers between his auburn hair and crashing your lips against his.

Instantly he did as told, feeding both yours and his own hunger by kissing you passionately back. Fred wrapped his long arms around your waist and pulled you closer into him, allowing the water on his shirt to almost turn into steam.

The kiss was hard but soft at the same time, not allowing the opportunity for a breath between you. Fred’s hands suddenly reached further down your waist as he swiftly lifted you, holding you in his arms for a moment before placing you on his cabinet.

Having the freedom of his arms back he returned the favour of entangling his fingers between your hair, slightly tugging on it as his kiss grew more desperate, sending shivers down your spine.

Fred’s lips slowly moved away from your own as he lifted the hair between his fingers, trailing kisses from your jawline down to your neck, causing you to let out soft moans.

As he did you frantically began unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it from his still damp body. Each kiss he placed on you made the butterflies in your stomach flutter a little harder, pulling at his hair signalling for him to continue.

Fred assisted you in taking the rest of his shirt of, as he started to take your tie off all the while still kissing your neck which sent you crazy. You rolled your head back at the tingling sensation of Fred’s sucking of your neck paired with his warm breath growling in your ear.

“I lied earlier” Fred gave a breathily whisper in your ear “You’re so sexy all the time” he continued, giving you an intense feeling.

You fiercely grabbed Fred’s face once more continuing to impulsively engage in your heavy make-out session.

Before you knew it your shirt was being unbuttoned, revealing nothing but your bra and bare skin exposed… but you didn’t mind one bit, in fact it felt so right you couldn’t believe it had took this long for you and Fred to be half naked together.

“Nice to see you two getting along again” you jumped out of your skin, quickly attempting to cover whatever part of you was exposed as you looked up to see a very casual George sending a wink your way.

“Christ George!” you yelled which just caused him to burst out laughing “Well then! Turn around!” you exclaimed as Fred picked up your shirt for you to start putting back on.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving… detention with Umbridge, have fun you two” George said giving you both another wink.

Your state of shock was eased by Fred who began to giggle, resting his forehead on yours.

“Seriously Y/N… you don’t understand how long I’ve wanted that to happen” Fred confessed, butterflies rising once again in your stomach.

“Me too” you grinned, pulling his head down for another kiss.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #fred weasley smut #weasley twins #weasley twins smut #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #weasley twins x reader

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno. {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing.

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it.

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors.

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day.

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you.

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing.

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway.

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error.

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done.

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum.

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them.

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents.

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead.

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled.

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous).

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek.

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up.

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned.

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied.

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured.

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that.

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it.

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you.

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog.

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved.

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal.

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing.

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled.

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

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hanibalistic · 3 years

Text

#507A9E | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | fluff, high school au, faint mutual pining, implied rich kid au

word count | 2190

warning | fighting, mentions of injuries

tag | @fluffyskzclub

note | i miss hyunjin pt.2 // maybe a universe?

the first thing that popped into your head when you saw students running toward the school courtyard, whispering and chanting about a fight that had broken out, was that the person better not be hyunjin.

you knew hyunjin ever since middle school but you two only recently introduced yourselves to each other when your homeroom teacher made it your responsibility, as the class president, to keep track of him—both his poor grades and his even poorer conduct.

you two never had to chance to speak to each other before the beginning of your tutoring sessions. surely, even if you had the chance to talk to him, you would not have taken it with his rebellious reputation contrasting so stronger your clean-slate one. most of your encounters were of you frowning and sneering at him whenever you saw him get taken away to the principal's office, or when he and his friends create a ruckus during school assemblies.

your poor impression of him stayed long even after you began tutoring him in the corner of the school library, afraid that you would be seen together. he was always late, sometimes with a hazy attitude and sometimes with bruises and cuts on his face. he was always late to the sessions, but he was also always present.

on his third failed calculus test hyunjin came around.

you never knew why but he suddenly did a 360-degree turn and he came around. he started to pay attention in class and he paid attention to you, he did his homework and the additional questions you assigned him, he jotted down notes and read them during his free time. with the third failed test, he decided he would work hard for some reason.

he was still late to the tutoring sessions, though.

but! with his newfound motivation, you, too, came around and began seeing him in a much friendlier light. you greeted him in the halls, you talked to him outside of the library and about topics other than academics (like his adorable puppy kkami, who you adore more than hyunjin, not that adore the boy or anything), you two moved from the corner to the main study center of the library, and you learned to treat his wounds whenever he has them.

hyunjin became a good friend of yours, and he only listened to you, which you realized after a friend mentioned it to you. you thought it was preposterous, but the thought of it made your stomach flutter with faint romantic delight anyway, the knot in your throat refusing to admit out loud that you might just find him the smallest bit attractive.

like when he would smile confidently at his practice test as he hands it to you, only for it to turn into a cute frown when he watches you add cross after cross on his answers. or when he would arch one brow at you in acknowledgment, a boyish smirk playing on his lips, after you accidentally catch his eyes in the classroom during a long lecture. or when his solid, pressuring gaze lays itself on you as you tend to his wounds outside in the school garden, his eyes holding the gentlest of affection as he looks to you as the only person to have ever existed on this earth.

no, you are not attracted to him. not at all.

"excuse me–i'm sorry, excuse me!" you said as you pushed yourself through the overly excited crowd.

once you made your way to the front, your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed. there hyunjin was, hands clutching a poor student's wrinkled collar, and the scar under his eye reopened. it was him who got in a fight! you did not know why you hoped for an alternative.

there was a glint in hyunjin's eyes—something akin to happiness, a thrilling excitement, perhaps, like the freeing of his soul being trashed into the depths of his easy insults and clenched fists. there was no anger in him, not an ounce. you knew what his anger looked like when it was directed to another, and this was not it.

this was free will. he was fighting because his body could and he yearned for the temporary excitement of it.

you felt your heart sink a little. out of everything that could make his face light up like this, fighting people has to take the crown? you wanted hyunjin to be happy but not with such a method! you also don't want to completely strip the entertainment away from him either!

if you wanted him to stop, the best way would be to find something else that can make him feel as excited as he does now, but what could it be?

"hwang hyunjin!" you hollered when you saw him throw a punch at the other student, your thoughts vanishing immediately.

stomping forward, you grabbed onto the back of his shirt and yanked him behind you. you pushed the other student away, glaring at him to run away before you turned to hyunjin. you tilted your head then, looking at him carefully, then you walked toward him.

"oh, come on, [name]," he whined, preparing to move around you. "don't ruin the fun!"

"hyunjin–hyunjin, look at me," you said, putting your hands on his shoulders and stopping him from side-stepping you. when he focused on you, his eyes turning soft, you smiled. "stop."

he stayed silent for a second before he sneered. he tried to shove you aside. "move away–"

"hyunjin," you sighed, feeling the longing for movement in his body. "do you understand you did something bad."

"if you are trying to talk me out of fighting–"

"you understand," you interrupted him, "that you did something bad."

you could hear voices in the background criticizing you. you were unsure of what, exactly. it was either of you stopping the fight or of you assuming you could stop the fight by talking. you ignored the background noises and focused on hyunjin, looking at him expectantly. you just needed him to tell you he understands.

"jesus, yes! now move away–"

"great. then i'm so sorry about this."

hyunjin was about to side-step you again, adding force into his hands as he pushed you aside to search for the kid who ran off, but you removed your grip on him and took a step back to get into position. his confusion worked in your favor when you anchored your weight on your feet, and with a strong swing, you punched him square in the face, knocking him down.

you grimaced at the pain that reverberates through your knuckles, while hyunjin laid on the floor with his face covered by his hands.

"what the fuck!" he yelled into his hands, his head pressed against the grass field with a pained look.

you scoffed at him as you rubbed your hands together. you felt worried for a second, but then it cooled down when you came to terms that he has got to have experienced worse. it was not the impact of the punch that made him dramatize his reaction (although, surely it did hurt his pretty face) but the unpredictableness of the punch that did so.

he would be fine. he always was.

you looked around you, glaring at everyone who came looking for a show, and you waited for them to disperse before you return your attention to hyunjin.

"come on, let's go to the nurse's office," you said as you moved closer to him, knelt, and took his hands from his face.

not a single stain of your punch. it was all just the invisible pain and his tendency to exaggerate.

"you look fine."

"i'm not fine!" he retorted with a whiny shout, snatching his hands away from yours and sitting up. he placed his hand on one propped-up knee and turned to you, annoyed. "you punched me!"

"talking clearly wasn't doing the job, so i did what i had to do!"

"punching me is what you had to do? not call a teacher or something?" he exclaimed incredulously, eyes widening at you in disbelief.

you closed your mouth. you had not wanted to get him in trouble so you resulted in dealing with it on your own. he has a week-long clean streak of not messing with the teacher, you wanted to keep it that way. even though you failed to consider if anybody present would snitch on him, or you, or maybe even the both of you.

"yes...?" you squeaked as you ducked your head, then you slightly eyed up, grimacing at him apologetically. "i didn't want to get you in trouble."

hyunjin watched you through the silk of his long black hair. he took in your words; the way you said it so bashfully, and how you shrunk under the thought of you making a mistake on his behalf. he understood that it was ultimately your good intentions looking out for his own good. your contrasting naivety shone into his eyes, and he wanted to cradle your face in his hands and be gentle with you.

heaving a sigh, he leaned on his hand that supported his torso up. licking his lower lip, he shared a knowing look with you and asked, "you know how to throw a punch."

you scowled lightly then, playing with your fingers as you sat on the grass field. "yeah, my mom had me learn how to fight ever since i was young."

"that makes sense. self-defense is good."

"yeah," you breathed out a laugh, "a little more than that."

"hmm?"

"my mother has a very odd job."

hyunjin smiled questioningly but he didn't ask. he merely took a look behind you at the grand structure of the school he stumbled upon after his parent's death and he nodded in acceptance.

he was never supposed to enter an elite school like this, where every student seems to have some dark family secrets down their sleeves. dark secrets not as in family feuds and estrangements (although those were certainly present as well) but dark secrets as in blood money and corrupt authorities.

rich people problems, but make it guns and roses.

he would not be surprised if your family had some weird history hidden in the closet. what he was wondering about was how you got stuck in a normal middle school with him.

"is your nose okay?" you asked timidly, facing forward at him.

your expression made him recall the time he found you wiping tears from your eyes at the library, glaring at his failed calculus test as if it had been your own, and he realized that you did care and you weren’t doing this because you were asked to.

it made him remember how most things he has done—studying, paying attention, staring at you, not getting into trouble—have been for you.

he just could not control his habits sometimes and he hoped you wouldn’t get too upset with him today for missing the tutoring session.

hyunjin hummed. it was fine, the pain subsided long ago, but he would be damned to not take your concern to an advantage. pouting quickly, he twisted his torso and let himself fall on your lap. he could feel you panic above him and he giggled lowly to himself, his eyes closed.

"i feel dizzy, you might have given me a concussion," he said.

you gasped a little, then you denied, "no way, that can't be possible."

"don't invalidate my concussion," hyunjin said. "it is what i feel."

you sucked in a breath.

there is no point treading through that territory with him, there is no point treading through that territory with anyone.

sensing your silence, hyunjin dared to open one eye to peek up at you. you were staring down at him, eyes ablaze with curiosity as you waited for him to speak.

the sunlight fell like gold sand and split when it reached your head, casting sparks over you. almost a spitting image of an angel, if he knew what an angel looked like.

your innocence was as gentle as his mother once was, and your determination a faint recall of his father's brightness. but your face was entirely your own; your eyes, nose, cheeks, lips. a kind face, a calm face, a face of someone he has come to fall catastrophically in love with.

hyunjin felt his eyes waver, he felt the warm watery dust his in eyes waver like flashes of lights seeping through gaps of leaves on a tree. his fingers itched to reach up to your face, to cradle you, to be kind to you, but he pressed them to his sides and only allowed himself a smile at your direction.

"i'm going to rest my face," he said.

you frowned, but the guilt of punching him asked you to stay with him, so you nodded. "okay."

hyunjin relaxed on the ground. his eyes were closed, but if they weren't, you would have seen—the thrill in his eyes of being able to be with you, the excitement of being close to you.

it would not be something akin to happiness, it would be happiness.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

A Place To Call Home: Dads

Summary: When the reader gets an offer to make some money on the side, things quickly evolve to Jensen learning about where some of the reader and TJ��s money has been going, namely TJ’s father. Jensen offers to help out but discovers that Rick might be up to something...

Masterlist

Square: A Place To Call Home

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much family angst), minor injury

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo. This part takes place after the Halloween timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Thank you, Barry,” you said as he left the office at the brewery. Your head was still up when your dad slipped inside and he shut the door. “What’s up?”

“There’s a talent scout out in the draft room,” he said.

“Fascinating,” you said, going back to reading over a contract with a new distributor.

“Y/N they’re here to see you.” You turned in your seat and stared at him, breaking out into a giggle. “I’m serious.”

“This is by far your worst prank yet.”

“You modeled some of the new merch last week? He’s here for you,” he said.

“To what, model?” you scoffed. “No thank you.”

“Well can you go tell him that because he was insisting on hearing it from you,” he said. You sighed and walked out front, a guy in a suit with no tie on sipping from a glass. He smiled when he saw your dad behind you.

“Ms. Ackles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s Mrs. Hanover,” you said with a friendly enough smile.

“You’re clearly used to some hard negotiations.”

“I’m tougher than I look Mr…”

“Elbridge but please call me Dan.”

“What can I do for you today, Dan?” you asked. He walked out to a quieter spot by the railing, settling at one ot the standing tables.

“I work for a talent agency, Mrs. Hanover. We’ve worked with your father a few times when he was starting out,” he said, your dad giving a nod. “We’ve seen your modeling pictures and we’re very interested in you doing a shoot.”

“I appreciate the offer but my answer is no. I’m not a model or an actress or any of the things my parents are besides someone invested in this brewery,” you said.

“She is a tough cookie,” he said as he looked at your dad. “I’m assuming you told her nothing I told you.”

“You gotta sell it on your own,” he said.

“Y/N, we’d like you to be in a commercial with some other women. An underwear commercial.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a commercial for inclusivity for people with differences,” he said.

“He means the scar on your back, Y/N. From the accident,” said your dad.

“You’re exactly the kind of person we want included in the line. There’ll be a photo run of things too and-“

“Why exactly do you know I have a scar on my back?”

“Your Instagram. I assumed it was public knowledge.”

“Okay but it’s not even that big. Like it blends in. I’m boring. Get like, an amputee or a burn survivor. That’s inclusive. I’m average.”

“We have a vast array of women in the line including those types and all kinds of body types. But you’re...a brand name we could put to the project.”

“Brand name,” you said. He hummed and you laughed. “My dad? That’s a brand name, not me. Throw him in some underwear and I’m sure you’ll get all the attention you want.”

“Well we want you,” he said. He pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Our initial offer is on the back but we’re open to negotiations. Call us if you think you might be interested. Oh and the beer’s great.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking over the card. The guy had wandered off by the time you flipped it over.

“I told him you wouldn’t be interested,” said your dad, sipping from his bottle of water. You blinked at the card, your dad raising an eyebrow. “You’re not considering it are you?”

“Dad,” you said. You flipped the card around and showed it to him, water spitting out of his mouth.

“Hey, Dan,” he said, rushing back and waving him over. Dan smiled as he walked back, drink in his hand.

“I thought that’d-” said Dan before your dad got in his face. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you up to,” he said.

“Dad.”

“Y/N no one gets offered that much money off the street. No one. So I’m gonna ask again. What are you up to?”

“It’s for a package deal. A photo shoot. A commercial. Ad sponsorship for three months bi-weekly on her social media accounts. We’d also like her to design the set for the commercial. There’s a time crunch of next week so we felt a hundred was a fair offer for that amount of work on short notice,” said Dan. “If she were simply modeling, we’d offer her twenty five but this is our biggest line of the year. You are more than welcome to come along every step of the way.”

“Dan I really do appreciate the offer but I’m not a model. I don’t even remember the last time I wore makeup. I will happily design a set and build if you like and maybe I can do the ad thing but I’m not a model like my parents. Can I talk to my dad for a second?”

He nodded and walked off a ways, your dad sighing.

“Maybe mom could do it or something? She’s done that stuff before,” you said.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Go for the set design for sure. You’re good at it and I know you get to break back into your architecture skills for that. But the rest...once you get on that train you can’t get off.”

“Dad, people already know who I am. I have like...an obnoxious number of followers on my accounts and stuff. My most popular posts? Always about you. I’ve never been in the shadows.”

“I know but that’s different than you doing these things. If you start taking pictures in underwear, you’re gonna attract at least a few weirdos and most of them are harmless but maybe some aren’t and there is a reason that Uncle Cliff still hangs out with me at certain times.”

“It’s a hundred thousand dollars. TJ and I could pay off the lawyer fees for Allie’s adoption finally,” you said. “We could get our mortgage payment down.”

“You’ve never cared about money,” he said. You pursed your lips and he narrowed his eyes. “Are things tight?”

“Dad.”

“Are they?”

“I don’t ask about your finances.”

“I sat down with both you and TJ when you bought the house and even with the renovation costs, your monthly payment was very affordable. Allie’s adoption should have been paid off months ago.”

“Do you stalk our spending now or what?” you shot back.

“Well you haven’t bought a new car or any big expenses. Where’s the money going?” he asked.

“I’ll take the set design and leave it at that,” you said. You brushed past him and over to Dan.

Thirty minutes later you had a signed contract and were back in your office, your dad grumbling as he walked inside.

“I’m busy,” you said.

“Where’s the money going, Y/N?”

“TJ and I make very good money,” you said, typing up an email. He leaned over the desk and narrowed his eyes. “I took the set design only for twenty. Happy?”

“Why do you need twenty thousand dollars?”

“Coming from the guy who made how much fucking money for a single freaking episode? At least I’m not slutting out my face,” you said. He stood back and slammed the door shut on his way out. You sighed and got up, finding him out back, splitting old pallets down. “Dad I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah you did,” he said. “That is exactly why I didn’t want you doing that shoot. Then all you are is a pretty face.”

He moved a pallet and picked up the axe again, bringing it down in the center.

“Dad.”

“What?” he snapped as he spun around.

“I said it because I knew it’d make you mad and piss you off and get you to drop it. It’s the only reason I said it. Please stop asking about where my money goes. Please.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Dad I said to stop asking.”

“Tough shit,” he said with a shrug. “Call me whatever you want. Maybe I get pissed off but I’ll cool off too. I know how much you make and I know how much he makes and I know you two have both been taking side jobs recently. You should have your house paid off by now, not barely making your mortgage. What’s going on and I want the truth.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s TJ involved in,” he said. You looked away and he nodded. “There are very few reasons why you wouldn’t tell me the truth and considering how small Allie and Colin are, he’s the only one I can think of.”

“I can’t.”

“Hey! There you are,” said TJ, walking around the corner with a bag in his hand. “I was out at a ranch nearby for work and figured we could have lunch together.”

“Speak of the little devil,” said your dad. He dropped the axe and TJ set the food on the hood of his truck, cocking his head.

“You okay, Jensen?” he asked.

“Peachy,” he said, putting his hands on his hips when he stopped in front of him. “So. Want to tell me what’s going on with your finances lately?”

TJ glanced to you and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” said TJ quietly.

“You want to try that again and not lie to me this time?” asked Jensen. TJ shook his head and your dad shut his eyes. “If you’re involved in something bad, let me help. I have money.”

“TJ just tell him,” you said. TJ sighed and picked up the food, walking over to the employee picnic area and sat down. You took a seat beside him and TJ handed you a wrapped burrito, your dad sitting across from him.

“I’m not angry. Let me help is all,” said your dad.

“It’s not us who’s in trouble,” said TJ. Your dad looked to you and you nodded. “It’s my dad.”

“Oh you two,” he said, shutting his eyes. “You’re paying off Rick’s debt he owes somebody, aren’t you.”

“Rick owes money to a bookie and...he beat him up kinda bad and we have extra so…” you said, your dad staring at you. “He asked us not to tell anyone.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Five...hundred,” said TJ.

“Five hundred thousand?” he asked, your heads nodding. “Five hundred thousand? What...how much have you given him already?”

“About half,” said TJ. Your dad shook his head and put his hands over his face, quickly pulling them off. “I know it’s a lot.”

“Yeah…” he said, swallowing to himself.

“We got it covered. Really. At the rate we’re doing extra side work-”

“Kids...you’re both so kind I think you missed something pretty important,” said your dad.

“I don’t understand,” said TJ. He looked to you and you shrugged.

“Guys that’s a lot of money. That’s...an extraordinary amount of money to a lot of people. How on earth does your father owe that much money all of a sudden?” asked your dad.

“He made some bets he lost on,” said TJ.

“But how could it be that much. What was the original bet?”

“What?”

“What was the original bet he made and lost on?”

“I don’t know. We figured it must have been like a hundred.”

“So your father bet a hundred, say he lost. That’s two hundred. Say he got some insane interest on it. Okay. Maybe, maybe he truly owes that much. But where did he get that original one hundred?”

“He didn’t have it,” said TJ. “We think.”

“Okay. He bet badly and ends up owing the whole thing,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Do you give this money to Rick or the bookie?” asked your dad.

“My dad. He didn’t want us to get involved with the guy,” said TJ.

“Okay,” said your dad. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna drive up to your folks this afternoon TJ and talk to your dad, see what’s left he owes. I will pay the rest.”

“Jensen that’s a lot of money.”

“I know it is. But it’s better to get him out of the hole quickly before something were to happen and I can afford it. Okay? I’m gonna head up. You two enjoy your lunch. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Something was off about him as he stood and left but you weren’t quite sure what was wrong.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed. He didn’t want Jensen to know at all,” said TJ.

“He wants to help. He’s got a point. The quicker it’s paid off, the quicker your dad’s out of danger. Let’s have lunch and you can tell me about that ranch you’re fixing up.”

“Arrow,” you grumbled that night as she reached for the hot pan. “Let it cool off.”

“Why are we having dinner at your house?” she asked. “No offense but you can only cook like five things.”

“Would you like to cook dinner for seven?” you asked. She held up her hands and you rolled your eyes.

“To be fair, Colin still eats baby food,” she said.

“Thank you for volunteering to feed your nephew,” you said with a grin.

“I didn’t-”

“Ro!” he said as he waddled into the kitchen, wrapping her legs up in a hug.

“I hate you,” she said, narrowing her eyes before she picked him up.

“Thank you Arrow,” you said as she put him on her hip. “He’s got dinner in the fridge if you wouldn’t mind?”

“I got it,” she said, opening it up one handed. “Mom and dad have some last minute thing or something?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your phone ringing, Jared’s name popping up. “Can you get that?”

“Hey Uncle Jared,” she said, hitting it on speaker.

“Arrow? Hey you mind finding your sister for me?” he asked.

“She’s busy making dinner. Apparently it’s very difficult.”

“I’m here Jared,” you said. You grabbed the phone and shoved it between your shoulder and ear. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out,” he said. “But come outside.”

You turned down the heat on the stove and went out the front door, finding Jared on the seat out front.

“Uh, what’s up?” you asked, pulling the door shut behind you. “This is weird.”

“Your dad may have...listen. Shit went down when Jensen went up to see TJ’s dad whatever his fuckface name is.”

“Jared.”

“Oh you’re about to call him fuckface too.”

“What happened?”

“Well...he had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He and De went up there to talk to them. Things aren’t...your dad’s in the hospital.”

“What?” you said quietly. He stood up and gave you a smile, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. He got a little cut when he got...pushed,” he said.

“Jared,” said TJ, stepping outside with a curious look. “What’s up dude?”

“Normally being the Uncle is the fun stuff,” he said. TJ frowned when you both saw a cop car pull into your driveway, Cody getting out. “Codes.”

“Dad, I got this,” he said as he hopped up on the porch. You smiled and looked back at TJ. “Oh shut up. I got adopted like six months ago. I might as well.”

“What exactly is happening?” asked TJ.

“Dad,” said Cody again. Jared sat back in the seat, Cody sighing. “TJ...dude I’m sorry. You’re like my brother.”

“Did my...did something happen to my parents,” he said quietly, Cody’s head shaking. “Oh.”

“Rick’s been stealing money from you. There’s no bookie to pay off. Jensen and De went up today to talk to him and they found out the truth and your dad’s got in a fist fight and you guys ought to head up North. It’s not my jurisdiction so I’m not much help.”

“My father did what?” said TJ. Cody glanced at you and you looked down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “TJ the police from your hometown looked into it. He took the money. He’s claiming it was a gift from the two of you but we all know that’s not true.”

“No, he’s been making progress. We’ve been making progress. We’ve been getting along really well,” said TJ.

“Did that start when you started giving him money?” asked Cody.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying what I know as a cop. Did your relationship start changing when money started exchanging hands?”

“Why does he hate me,” said TJ. You grabbed his hand and he shut his eyes. “He must hate me. That’s the only reason I can see why he would do something like that.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” you said.

“He hates you and Jensen. He thinks De is eye candy to stare at. I don’t know how on earth he can pretend to like me,” he said.

“TJ,” said Jared.

“You gonna tell me he loves me or some shit? It’s not good enough,” said TJ.

“I was gonna say you can cut him out of your life if you want to and you’re still gonna have a dad you know. I don’t understand him. I do think he loves you but there’s some resentment towards everyone else you call family. I don’t know why but it’s your choice what you want to do. I’m gonna go inside and finish cooking dinner and we’ll watch all of them tonight. Y/N-”

“I got him,” you said with a nod.

Ten minutes later you were on the road and driving, TJ staring out the passenger window.

“Honey-”

“Don’t,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You reached over and grabbed his hand, TJ squeezing it. “We’re going to my parents house after and we’re packing up as much crap as we can to bring back. I’m never speaking to him again after tonight.”

“TJ.”

“All the late hours I put in doing side jobs. All the jobs you’ve been doing for set design on the weekends. For months and months we’ve been doing it. Straight into his fucking pocket. We could have paid off the house with that money. Paid off bills. That’s our money. It’s our kids money. It’s not some sack of shit’s to go buy whatever he wants with. I could fucking kill him.”

“We’ll get it back,” you said.

“It’s not about the money.”

“I know, babe,” you said.

“Why is he like that?”

“It’s not an excuse but I think he was raised very poorly and he doesn’t...he knows it’s wrong but I think he thinks we have so much it’s okay if he takes from us.”

“He took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from us. A year of side jobs for the both of us on top of everything else. We sleep four hours a night. We weren’t handed that. We worked for it. We worked our asses off. All that pressure and all the pressure we thought somebody would hurt him if we were late with money? I can’t believe I ever gave a shit about him. I should have trusted you. You’ve never liked him. No one in your family did. Even Arrow and that kid loves everybody. I should have trusted you guys.”

“TJ they didn’t like him because of the way he treated you, not me. I knew he was a dick when I met him but he belittles you, so, so much. We hate that he does that to you.”

“I don’t know how my mom is married to someone like him.”

“Don’t cut her out,” you said. “She raised you. You’re all her. Anyone who meets you can see that.”

“He’s going to lie when I see him again. I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because.” You pulled over and he sat back in his seat. He turned his head and you saw all the tears streaming down his face.

“Honey,” you said. You leaned over and hugged him, TJ gripping you back.

“He’d kick my ass for crying right now.”

“Who was it that sat up with my dad after the accident and let him cry all over him? My dad who hates to cry and he’s not afraid to cry in front of you.”

“He’s strong. I’m not.”

“You’re my best friend. The girl who thought she was so fucked up and would be alone. God, Thomas. You gave me something even my parents and family couldn’t. You know how I never thought in a million years I could have this kind of love and you were never scared. The insecurities. The nightmares. The days where I’m quiet and my head gets to me. You just grab my hand and you make it better. You’re stronger than most everyone on this planet. I love and I’ve loved you since I met you and I’ll do anything for you, you know that. We’re partners. If you want to give your dad another chance you can and I won’t question it for a second.”

“I don’t want to talk to him again,” he said, sitting up somewhat. “But how do I say that when you didn’t get a choice? You didn’t get a choice with your parents. They were just gone and you had no say. How can I just walk away like that?”

“My parents didn’t treat me like the way your father does. Neither of my moms or dads ever have. You can walk away from someone that does, TJ. I don’t want you near someone like that. Jared was right too you know. You’re not gonna lose a dad tonight. You’ve always had one and he’s gonna be there for you always.”

“He hurt Jensen, didn’t he?” he sniffled.

“I’m sure he's fine. He’s very...defensive of his children is all.”

“Jensen gave me a letter,” he said. “Addressed to me. That’s when I really knew he loved me.”

“He loved you before that.”

“I know he did. I don’t know why I wanted my dad when I’ve had Jensen the whole time.”

“I’ve been there. Trust me,” you said. He let out a small laugh and you hugged him, TJ taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry Rick hurt you.”

“He hurt both of us.”

“Yeah but I care more about the fact he hurt you. I may deck him when I see him,” you said.

“That’d be kinda awesome,” he said. “But please don’t.”

“Hugs instead?” you said.

“I’ll take hugs,” he said. His stomach grumbled and you kiss his temple.

“I’m gonna hit the drive thru and then we’ll get on the road again, okay honey?”

“Okay,” he said. You kissed him one last time before you got out of the car and dug around in the trunk. You took out your oversized hoodie and brought it up to the front, handing it to him. “What’s this?”

“You can steal it if you want. Your hoodie’s kinda make me feel better on crappy days,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really love you.”

“Me too. It’s gonna be okay.”

One Hour Later

“Let’s go to the hospital first,” said TJ as you hit the edge of town.

“Jared said my dad was fine.”

“Y/N. Let’s go to the hospital,” he said. You nodded and about ten minutes later you were parked and getting a room number. He held your hand on the elevator ride up, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?”

“I’d prefer if he could stay out of the hospital.”

“Me too,” he said, the doors opening. You walked a little too quickly until you found the room, your mom and dad talking as you walked in.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“Jared and Cody came by and we learned some stuff,” you said. “Why are you in the hospital? You look...normal.”

“Your father hit his head.”

“I’m fine.”

“After the accident last year-”

“It was nearly a year ago.”

“After the accident they wanted to be safe and monitor overnight just in case. He got a cut on his arm from some metal but that’s all,” said your mom.

“I’m fine,” said your dad. He got up out of bed and spun around. “See? No concussion. An itty bitty scratch is all you worry worts.”

“Was there a fight?” you asked. He sat down and sighed. “You don’t look like it.”

“No,” he said. He looked at TJ and pursed his lips. “TJ would you mind grabbing me a drink from the vending machine?”

“Whatever you want to say, you’re gonna say it in front of me,” he said.

“Mom and I went up to your parents place and it started out okay. But your mom didn’t quite understand what was going on. She thought Rick had been doing well betting horses at a track and that’s where the sudden money came from. Things...devolved from there and Rick got defensive and I was angry so we started arguing and he shoved me and your mom and De shut it down and the cops came and I’m sorry but he took the money for himself. Last we heard from your mom a little while ago she’s giving all the money back to you guys.”

“You pressing charges?” asked TJ.

“It was a shove. He didn’t take my money. You two are the ones that have a right to charge him,” he said.

“Do you know where my mom is?” asked TJ.

“She’s at your house along with your dad,” he said.

“Y/N why don’t you hang here with your parents,” said TJ. You shook your head and he frowned. “You’re worried about your dad. Stay.”

“He’s okay and I’m coming with you,” you said.

“Me too,” said your mom.

“De-”

“TJ. You’re not gonna win this one,” she said. “Jensen’s okay on his own for a bit and he’d come if he could. You’re not gonna go talk to your dad alone.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” he said, already leaving the room. Your mom grabbed her purse and you ran your hands over your face.

“Go take care of him,” said your dad quietly.

“Dad.” You walked in front of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “He’s gonna be fucked up.”

“I know. We’ll take care of him,” he said. He kissed your temple and pushed you towards the door gently. “Go take care of your husband.”

“We’ll be back.”

“Guys I think maybe I should go in first,” said your mom a short while later, the three of you parked in his parent’s driveway.

“No,” said TJ.

“Thomas.”

“Danneel,” he said. He turned in the passenger seat and she sighed. “I’m a big boy. I can go in first.”

“Don’t be violent.”

“I won’t,” he said quietly. She kissed his cheek and nodded.

“Okay sweetie. Let’s get this over with,” she said. You got out and took his hand, TJ not as tense as you were expecting.

“His car isn’t here,” he said quietly on the way up the porch steps. He rang the doorbell and the door flew open, his mom standing there. “Hi mom.”

“I kicked him out for the night,” she said, letting the door open for the three of you. “I’m so sorry. Danneel is Jensen-”

“He’s pissed but fine,” said your mom, following you inside. TJ walked around for a moment, stopping at a picture on the wall.

“Mom. Why does dad hate me?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder and she frowned. “He manipulated me and Y/N. He’s horrible to her family. I get that he went through something as a kid but he’s a grown man.”

“Your father loves you. He doesn’t always know the best way to show it,” she said.

“He hurt me and you’re gonna side with him. Again,” he said.

“He made a mistake.”

“Hell of a mistake,” you mumbled.

“Do you think he wants to be the way he is?” she asked.

“I could have gotten past everything before but this? He doesn’t get to worm his way out of it. I’m done with him.”

“Then you’re gonna be done with me too,” she said. TJ turned around and she lifted her chin. “He doesn’t deserve to thrown out of your life over a mistake.”

“I seem to recall you not saying a word when he almost hit your grandaughter with a belt,” said TJ. “Why do you make excuses for him?”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked. TJ threw up his hands and shook his head. “Always since you were a little boy you’ve hated him.”

“He didn’t want me, not the other way around. I know he worked a lot but all I wanted when he came home at night was a hug or a bedtime story. I wasn’t asking for much,” said TJ. “He resented me.”

“He put in all those long hours for you, to provide for you.”

“I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I paid for my own things from the second I was able to. I paid for school all on my own. My apartment. My car. I paid for my wedding and honeymoon. He paid for food and roof over my head which is the bare minimum he could have done. Don’t tell me he provided for me. He fucking hated me.”

“Because you’re not his,” she said. You and your mom looked at one another, TJ blinking where he stood. “Rick isn’t your father.”

“Excuse me?”

“I cheated on your father because he can be an asshole and I needed an escape. He found out when I was pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” asked TJ again.

“He never wanted children because he thought he’d be a bad father. I guess he was right in your mind,” she said.

“If you’re gonna tell the story, you might as well tell the whole thing,” said Rick. He stepped out from down the hall, TJ’s mom sighing.

“So you are here,” said TJ.

“Car’s in the shop,” he said.

“You hate me?”

“I love you. It doesn’t mean I’m a good person though,” he said.

“You stole from us.”

“Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“This house is the size of your living room. You have so much.”

“If you wanted money just fucking ask,” said TJ.

“Like I said, just cause I love you doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“You’re not even my father apparently.”

“I’m your father,” he said. “Didn’t make ya but I’m your father.”

“What’s the story?” asked your mom. They all looked to her and she looked at TJ’s mom. “What don’t we know.”

“You ever wonder how someone like me wound up with someone like your mother? We’re polar opposites most days,” said Rick. TJ narrowed his eyes and looked between them.

“Don’t tell him,” said his mom.

“Alright,” said Rick. “I must have been mistaken.”

“TJ, can I talk to you,” you said, pulling him into the kitchen. “TJ do you remember in family studies when we had that project to track our family trees and you found your parents marriage certificate and the year was wrong?”

“Y/N what’s that got to do with anything.”

“What if the year wasn’t wrong.”

“It can’t be. They would have gotten married after I was born then.”

“TJ I’m not saying your dad is great but he just lied for your mom. He loves her. Something happened before you were born or after. I have this feeling that she didn’t cheat on him.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe I’m wrong but maybe your mom was in a bad situation and Rick stepped in to help because of her.”

“Rick,” said TJ, very quickly exiting back to the family room. “When did you meet my mom. If you ever want to speak to me again, if you want me to speak to her again, you’ll tell me the truth.”

Rick glanced to TJ’s mom, TJ smirking.

“You do care about her.”

“Of course I fucking care about her. I care about you too.”

“That’s great. I feel very cared for,” said TJ. Rick pursed his lips and his mom nodded. “Truth or I walk out that door and never come back.”

“I was married,” said TJ’s mom. “He was charming until he wasn’t. I got pregnant with you and you were born and he would get so angry at you for being a simple baby and crying and...I was so scared of him hurting you that I left. I had nothing and I stayed with a friend for a few days. I met Rick through them and he offered us a safe place to stay with him. It was only supposed to be short term but things developed. He is not perfect but he’s not the monster you think he is. We are safe and the reason you have all you do well and truly is because of him.”

“Do you have anything to say?” asked TJ quietly.

“I loved your mother before I loved you, that’s true. But I learned and I’ve done my best. You were far better off without me in your life. Look at what you have. You’d be angry and bitter if I had more of a hand in raising you. So you can hate me but you do not hurt your mother like that. You do not walk away from her after everything she has done for you. Understand me?”

“I need space from you,” said TJ, Rick nodding. “I also need something else.”

“What?”

“I still don’t understand why you took the money if you weren’t going to spend it.”

“Was gonna impress you, turn a profit on it, give it back with interest. Be like her father, give you some money for once.”

“Jensen doesn’t impress me because of money. Yes, their family doesn’t have to think twice about the cost of most anything. But Jensen, De, they don’t impress me for any reason other than how kind they’ve been to me. They treat me like their son, like I’m their own. They don’t pretend to. They don’t tolerate me for Y/N. They genuinely care about me, all because I fell in love with their daughter, a girl that’s not even theirs and they love her to death. The house is nice. The wedding was nice and so are the vacations. But I could live in a cardboard box and be happy if all I ever got was their kindness. They never made me work for it. They just gave it to me. You could have just given it to me and I would have been a happier kid. But you didn’t and now you have to work for it on my terms. So I want our money back and I want some space from you. If and when I’m ready to talk to you again, I’ll reach out. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said. TJ crossed his arms and nodded before he went outside. His mom followed after and you gave Rick a look. He pulled out his phone and tapped on it for a few moments before shoving it in his pocket. “It says it’s pending for that big of a transfer. It should be back in your account in a few days.”

“Oh I’ll make sure of that,” you said, walking over to him. “Rick. Maybe try some therapy if you really want to salvage this relationship.”

“You think I can afford that?” he said.

“We’ll pay,” said your mom. “Jensen and I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s a fucking awesome kid and he deserves a relationship with you, even if we don’t like you,” she said.

“What about you? You hate me too kid?” he asked you.

“I can learn to tolerate and respect you. But you hurt him and I’ll protect him from anyone that does that, including you. But it’s not my forgiveness you need. It’s his so maybe try the therapy and let him come back if he’s ever ready for that, okay?”

“Alright.” You turned to go when he caught your shoulder. “Can I ask where the money came from? Jensen made it sound like you were behind on bills.”

“It made things tight for us. TJ and I have both been working side jobs nights and weekends to scrounge up extra money. We weren’t handed any of that money we gave you. We even took from ourselves and our children. Just because we live in a nice house doesn’t mean we don’t work for it,” you said. “Oh and one more thing. Touch my father again or call my mom slutty behind her back one more time, you’ll find out which one of us isn’t the good person in this relationship.”

“He what…” said your mom as you walked out, pulling her along behind you. “Dickhead!”

“Come on mom,” you said, pushing her back to the car. TJ gave his mom a nod and hug before he climbed back into the backseat.

“Slut my ass,” your mom mumbled under breath as she started the car back up.

“Mom, let it go,” you said, shutting your eyes and slumping down in your seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” she said. You reached up and put it on, turning back to catch TJ with his head leaned back. “You okay back there?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“That’s probably the right answer,” you said.

“Let’s get back to dad. I’m sure he’s climbing the walls to get out of there by now.”

Two Days Later

“Howdy,” said your dad, taking a seat in the patio chair beside you as you watched TJ swim in your pool with Allie. “Where’s the babe?”

“Naptime,” you said, TJ tossing Allie up in the air and hugging her tight when he caught her again.

“How’s he holding up?” he asked, reaching over and taking a chip out of the bag in front of you.

“Better than expected. He’ll give Rick another chance someday.”

“He said that?”

“No. I know Thomas though. He’s too good to hold onto that crap. It might not be for six months or a year but it’ll happen eventually.”

“Well I think he’s a dick,” said your dad. “But if TJ wants to give him a chance, we’ll give him a chance.”

“Thanks for being his dad too,” you said.

“I love the kid,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “So what are you two gonna do with all that money?”

“Pay off the last of the lawyer fees, pay off a big chunk of what’s left on the mortgage. When that set design comes in then we won’t owe too much more on the house,” you said. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to work on it.”

“Y/N? Use some of that money and take a nice vacation with the kids. Or even just a long weekend away for you and TJ.”

“We really ought to use it for stuff like the house,” you said.

“Have you and TJ ever taken a vacation just the two of you?”

“Of course. We went on our honeymoon.”

“That doesn’t count. The answer’s no, isn’t it.”

“Dad, I don’t need-”

“Maybe you don’t but somebody in that pool needs to have some fun. Plan a little trip away next month,” he said.

“He’s always wanted to go to Mardi Gras,” you said with a smile.

“You guys would have a blast and I got some pull down there and all. Come on. Let me spoil my grandkids for a weekend.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me,” you said.

“You mind if the twins have dinner with you guys?”

“We’re actually going to the Pads for dinner. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind more though. You got a hot date?”

“Getting a private college tour with mom and JJ,” he said. “Ya’ll can stop growing up anytime you want you know.”

“She wants to live at home you know.”

“Really?”

“Contrary to her teenage angst as of late, she does love us. Just you know, drop the curfew like you did with me.”

“And we get texts when you stay out.”

“That’s what you thought,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “I let you know when I wouldn’t be home that night. You didn’t need to know my exact whereabouts.”

“When’s the first time you stayed over TJ’s?”

“Fall of Freshman year in his dorm,” you said.

“Never mind. I don’t need to know,” he said.

“Yup. Let her have fun when she gets there, she’s smart,” you said. “Plus you know she’ll call me if shit happens. Also she has a year and a half of high school left. Relax.”

“At least I know Tom will keep an eye on her too.”

“Already planning the wedding?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he said, ruffling your hair. “Make sure he gets this.”

He dug into his back pocket and took out an envelope, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “Dad?”

“Mhm,” he said as he stood.

“Can you invite him on your fishing trip this weekend with grandpa?”

“Already did,” he said, nodding down at the envelope. “I’ll talk to you soon, tall munchkin.”

“Later dad,” you said, TJ giving him a wave as he headed out. You left the letter on the patio table and went over to the pool, slipping into the shallow end.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah. My dad left you a letter,” you said, Allie swimming off on her own, doing circles around TJ. He nodded and got out of the pool, drying off some before he went to the table and sat down. “Time for a snack.”

You scooped her up and swung her around in the water, throwing her up your hip. You walked out with her, setting her down to dry her off some.

“Is daddy okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Why don’t you change back into some clothes and we’ll get Colin and snack time going.”

She rushed over to TJ and smiled up at him, TJ tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Daddy snack time!” she said.

“I’ll be inside in just a minute, sweetie,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her head, pushing her back towards you. You patted her inside, TJ rubbing his thumb over his lip as he read.

“Take your time, babe,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he nodded. “I’ll leave some tissues just inside the door in case.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Take all the time you need. I got these two,” you said. He nodded and smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

_________

A/N: Read the First Summer Timestamp here!

#supernatural #tell me a story bingo #spn #jensen ackles #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #jensen x

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courtofcravings · 3 years

Text

Another you (1)

Context: In which you get stuck on a planet and have to save kirk, whichhe admits feelings for you and ya both land in the Med Bay.

Warning: Some blood, needles, minor injuries. mild choking

Feb 2nd/21

I always find it funny that my go-to thing is to have the reader afraid of needles, but I myself am actually trained to give vaccines and take blood.

This was also my first Kirk x reader in a long time// It’s hard to write flirty confident characters because it is the exact opposite of who I am, yet it’s the personality i love in my men and women so xoxo

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Dr. McCoy was again trying to coerce you down to the Med Bay; he really thought offering to get the Captain involved would change anything. “I’m telling you right now, Y/N, you can’t go on your away mission without your immunizations for this planet. Have you have heard of the Quazulu VIII Virus, no? That’s because there is a vaccine for it!”

“Dr. McCoy, It will be a quick up and down to the planet to grab some specimens; I won’t stay for diplomatic reasons like the rest of the party is.” You justified to him. You had almost finished packing everything you needed from the research ward before your ship’s chief medical examiner ambushed you.

“As a scientist, I’d figure you would be one of the most appreciative of vaccines.” He replied, helping you collect tubes from the drawer beside him. “Ah contrary, as a scientist, I am well aware of how dirty hospitals and MedBays are.” The doctors face contorted,

“You do realize you are going on an away mission, on a un sterile planet. There is a risk of injury; are you just not going to receive first aid if something goes wrong on the planet?” He’s not wrong, and you knew it. You just hated needles. They grossed you out.

“I won’t get hurt then,” You confidently stated, which earned a scoff from the young doctor.

“What if I bring the vaccines to your research lab? And gave them to you here?” You admitted that wasn’t a bad compromise. The Med Bay gave you more of a bad feeling than needles do. You always found that most people you had to bring to the Medbay or hospital didn’t always come out. You just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread when you go in.

“Fine.”

“You remind me so much of Jim.” He said while pulling out the vaccines. He had the vaccines here!? He already knew I wouldn’t agree to go to the Med Bay and thought ahead. You really have left an impression on the doctor.

“Who? And you really knew I’d say yes?” Referring to the cooler filled with the vaccinations. “Ah, you see, they are not just for you,” He said. Taking one of the two doses you needed into one of his hands and pinch “Done.”

Oh, that wasn’t horrible.

The doors swooshed opened behind you, but you couldn’t open your eyes, knowing there was another needle coming. “Bones, you called me here?” Immediately recognizing that voice as Captain Kirk

“You Actually Told The Captain On Me!?” You stood up to look accusingly at Dr. McCoy. He only shrugged his shoulders, looking between the two of you. “You need to get your inoculations, Jim; why don’t you explain to Y/N here how important it is to get them before an away trip,” He said while getting another dose ready. “You do have a lot of experience of finding out the hard way.”

You met the captain’s eyes, so blue. “Captain,” You correctly addressed him, “Y/N, will you be coming tonight?” He asked, his voice so alluring.

“I will, sir,” He smiled at you, taking a seat. “So, Bones here is giving you trouble?” He grabbed your backpack, taking a glance inside at what you were going to bring. It reminded you of a kid who couldn’t sit still.

“Bones?”

“Do not call me that,” Dr. McCoy said fast. pinch “Ouch, I wasn’t ready for that one!” You growled, rubbing your arm, earning a small laugh from the captain sitting across from you. You watched Dr. McCoy draw up his last dose for you and started to feel sick to your stomach.

“Captain, I believe you were explaining to Y/N how important the vaccines are,” He asked the Captain. Funny, it’s not often that Dr. McCoy will address the Captain formally like that. You think Captain Kirk noticed as well as he looked caught off guard.

“Well, as your Captain, I have to inform you that it is mandatory, and Starfleet regulations to get your vaccines before the away mission. Otherwise, you can compromise the health of my crew,” He said professionally. Looking at bones with a thumbs up.

You couldn’t help but get distracted by his deep blue eyes while he talked more about it. You were not really paying much attention to his words. “All done,” Dr. McCoy said, cleaning up his tray of discarded utensils. You were so distracted by the captain you didn’t feel that last pinch.

You pulled your blue shirt back down to entirely go over your arm, “Well, if that is everything, I should be preparing for the away mission,” The captain said, dismissing himself.

“No, No, No, Jim.” Dr. McCoy stood up fast, grabbing the Captain by his arm before he could get out of his chair. “You just lectured Y/N on the importance of inoculations; I do believe it is your turn,” You figured that was why the doctor brought those extra doses. This was his plan all along.

“For the well being of the crew and all,” You spoke up, paraphrasing his own words. Dr. McCoy let out an agreeable laugh, while the captain just sat there, defeated.

“Alright, alright, just make it fast,” The captain lifted his shirt enough to sneak his left arm out. Your first instinct, of course, was to look around the room at literally anything else.

“I was just telling Y/N how alike you both are; I mean, she’s basically another you,” Dr. McCoy said. You couldn’t help but scoff at this, you and the captain having something in common? Sure, but you being basically like him? Definitely not.

“What gave it away? Was it the height? We are pretty close in height,” The captain responded, a playful smile on his handsome face.

“Maybe, It is our common interest in specialties on the ship? You know, being captain and being a biomedical engineer are very similar jobs.” You asked, teasing the doctor. He only responded with a sigh and poked the Captain with the needle, making him jolt.

“You know Y/N; I think he might be right. I am certain he was referring to our matching taste in clothing.” The Starfleet uniform being all match except for the colours. Where scientists wore grey or blue, the captains wore gold. Gold was definitely his colour.

“Nope, he is definitely talking about our boobs; they are just so alike,” You said, a giggle ripped from the captain, making him move back slightly.

“Dammit, Jim, stay still.” He said, giving the last dose to the Captain, then turning back to look at you, “You know you’re both just proving my point,”

“Well, then that’s just double the fun for you, Bones,” The captain said. He was taking his leave before the Doctor comes up with more to poke him with. After two years on this ship, bugging Dr. McCoy never got old.

“I couldn’t imagine being stuck on an away trip with the two of you,” Dr. McCoy said while grabbing his bag. “Hey, Bones, that’s kinda hurtful,” You responded, using the nickname the Captain used with him.

“Dammit, Jim,” Bones muttered under his breath, leaving to go track down more officers before the away trip.

-----

The trip mission for you was supposed to be simple: collect some plant samples with specific regenerative properties. This would help in your designs of tissue regeneration equipment you worked on in the lab aboard the enterprise with Dr. McCoy.

Unfortunately for you, It seemed something went wrong, you’re assuming with the diplomatic party that came down with you. You only took fifth-teen minutes to gather enough samples to fill your small bag, but when you used your comm to contact the ship, no one responded.

As a matter-of-fact, no one on the mission on the planet was answering either. You hoped they hadn’t forgotten you on this planet and left, unlikely, but still a thought. You didn’t remember where exactly the other group got transported to, and it was still a debate whether you should leave the last known location they had of you, but it was getting dark.

You needed shelter and possibly a fire. It was far too cold on this planet for you to stay extended out in the elements. So you started walking, with no means to defend yourself and no map of the jungle-like terrain. You couldn’t help but think bones may have been right about laughing at you confidently declaring nothing will go wrong.

“Y/N to enterprise,” You repeated every few seconds, waiting for any response as you trudged through the thicker bushes. Soon it was dark and cold. You could barely see anything, and it was getting too dangerous to walk around.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the faintest light. Maybe it was your crew? You thought about following it, but you also thought of that fish that used a light on its head to lure its prey back on earth. Maybe you are about to be angler fish food; You don’t think they make vaccines to prevent that.

Maybe it is called “not being stupid and walking toward the scary lingering light.”

But where else was there to go. So, against your better instinct, you started walking towards it. Although, the closer you got, you figured out it was a fire and not some carnivorous fish. Picking up the speed and getting closer, you could clearly hear voices. Thank goodness

You have always been told you had two left feet for a reason, so of course, before you could enter the camp, you tripped and ate dirt. Getting up on your knees, you backed up slowly. You seemed to have cut your arm open on something, possibly a branch, when you fell. Great, now you’d have to admit to bones he was right.

Captain Kirk and the rest of the diplomatic crew were tied up, surrounded by another species. It seemed someone- a woman was attempting to speak to them in their language.

They didn’t seem to be responding to her in the same kind tone. Every so often, she’d stop and talk to the captain, translating for him, you figured. Maybe some sort of negotiations or clearing up a misunderstanding, but it did not seem to be going in our favor.

You lowered yourself deeper in the bushes and looked around the camp. There didn’t seem to be any device blocking the signal you could spot, so why wouldn’t the comms work, you wondered. You did, however, find Starfleet-issued phasers, more phasers than you had men. You suppose this meant you guys were not the only Starfleet officers caught by this group.

You watched as the conversation turned sour, and one of the species took what looked like a long fork and put it through the captain’s leg. Yup, This is definitely not good. The same one who stabbed the captain untied the translator and the two other men, walking them out into the forest in the other direction, to where you had no idea. This left Captain Kirk alone, guarded by two others.

You ever so slowly made your way around the camp to the phasers, laying on a flat table with other confiscated items. Your arm was not letting up pain-wise or blood wise, but you knew it wouldn’t matter much if you couldn’t make it off the planet. Grabbing one phaser at a time, you managed four.

Although taking a look at them, you realized you were way in way over your head. Too far in over your head. Getting stranded on a planet with a lacerated arm was fine; watching your crewmates get tied up and minorly stabbed was fine because you could have helped. There was a solution in sight, but now?

Looking down at the phaser, you had no recognition on how to use it; you were now too far in over your head. Starfleet trained you on a basic low power phaser; the highest setting was three. This phaser had so many buttons, far too many than necessary, you thought.

Taking a deep breath, you put two phasers in your bag and slowly made your way behind to where Captain Kirk was tied up and bleeding. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to untie the Captain, you watched the two guards pace around the camp, talking. You needed a distraction, but what could you possibly do?

You snuck up to the Captain silently, but you knew there wasn’t enough time to do too much before they’d glance in your direction. Grabbing the Captain on the shoulder reassuringly, “Don’t make a sound,” The last thing you wanted was for him to be surprised by you sneaking upon him and startle the guards. “I have no idea how to use this, so I really hope you can move and are not completely out of it from blood loss!” You whispered urgently, putting a phaser in his still tied up hands.

“Y/N?” The captain whispered, “Don’t do anything stupid,” You loved his esteemed confidence in you.

“I don’t have enough time to finish untying this knot,” It was so close to coming undone, but you heard one of the guards pacing this way, so you left. You watched the captain look around, but you were hiding in the bushes already. He started to loosen his hands subtly.

Now time for your distraction. You walked around the campsite again, furthering yourself from the captain. “Hey!” You screamed at the guards, hopefully taking the guard’s attention of the captain. “Hey!” You shouted again at them, waving your arms in the air with one phaser in your hand. The guards started slowly approaching you; however, you hadn’t really thought this far.

“Okay, I know you can’t understand me,” You pointed the phaser directly at them, “But I know you understand this, and I...I don’t want to hurt you! So don’t come any farther!” You yelled pointlessly as they kept on approaching you, towering over you. Up close, in front of the light from their fire, you could clearly see their leathery skin, their large muscular frames, and very large weapons in hand.

“Hey, I mean it!” You said, waving the phaser at the one to your left. They were approaching faster with no sign of stopping until they were in front of you. One put their hands on your throat, your feet dangling in the air as he started to choke you. You knew they could crush your throat in a second if they chose to but instead decided to apply pressure slowly.

A loud sound echoed in your ears; It definitely belonged to a phaser. The guard let you go, both of you falling to the ground. And you couldn’t stop the intense coughing fit that erupted from you, your body trying to get as much air in as it could. Distantly you heard the second guard fall to the ground. A hand was on your back as you coughed, “Are you okay?” It was the captain.

After catching your breath, you stood up, looking at the captain. He was standing beside you, phaser in hand, with blood rushing down his leg. “You’re the one with the stab wound,” You responded hoarsely, slightly concerned. “This is nothing,” You reached under his arm so he could support his weight more onto you, “Let me help, sit down over here and let’s tie something around your leg,” He let his weight fall on you slightly. To be honest, you probably would not be able to carry all his weight, especially since your arm was starting to throb.

Sitting him down, you reached into your bag, looking for anything you could use as a makeshift tourniquet. Thankfully, you packed a mini first aid kit. Yes, it was extremely small, holding only a few items; you knew it had a small roll of gauze in it. He let out a laugh when he saw you pull out the little red box. “Laugh all you want, but this could potentially help save your life,” You said seriously.

“That’s not why I am laughing,” You looked up at him curiously, waiting for him to continue his explanation. “I’m sorry, but.” You wrapped a long strand of gauze around his leg, pulling and twisting, as you were taught. “I have this deep, stab wound, and you pull out the smallest first aid kit that I have ever seen in my life,” You took an alcohol swab and wiped his wound gently, cleaning it as well as you could.

“I find it extremely funny that when I looked into your bag this morning and saw it, I thought it was cute, you would bring it,” You looked around to see what dressing you had, not a lot. “I thought it was cute you’d bring a small little first aid kit when we have an on-hand medic come with us.” You ripped his pants just slightly so you start dressing it, “And now you are providing first aid to me with it, in the field, I don’t know I just find that funny” He finished looking down at what you were doing before deciding maybe watching isn’t the best idea.

“I don’t know if I should pack dressing around… this fork thing, or if I should take out the object and dress you properly.” You leaned back on your legs and looked up at him.

“Leaving it in would be safest because I can’t be sure if it hit an artery or not, and you’d bleed out.” You paused, letting him take in the information, “On the other side if I don’t take it out and we have to move fast, it could potentially do more damage.”

“Take it out; we need to get moving to find Uhura, Sulu, and Montgomery.” You were slightly nervous about doing this; killing your captain does not look good on a resume. You opened the dressing packages, ready to work fast. The tourniquet should have stopped any bleeding; you should be safe to pull it, you hoped.

And with one fluid motion and no warning for the Captain, you pulled it out, throwing it to the ground. You placed one hand on the wound to keep pressure and reached for the dressings. The groans of pain were agonizing to hear come from him; however, you knew you had to keep going and get the wound bandaged up. You had wished the small kit had medication or pain relievers of any kind to help him, something you’d need to remind yourself to add for next time.

“I am so sorry; I know that must have been pretty painful for you.” You said sincerely. It was over, but he was still breathing hard, reeling over the pain. He reached toward you, leaning forward, and rested his head on your shoulder. You put a hand on his head and brushed his hair with your fingers, staying like that for a few minutes, peacefully.

“Your arm, there is blood on the sleeve,” He said, grabbing your arm to inspect it; however, you pulled it away, “I scratched it on a branch, it hurts but it’s not bleeding anymore. Besides, I used all the dressing on you- being the more urgent injury.”

“We need to move; they might have heard me.” You helped him stand, and he continued to use you for support. “It’s so dark. I have no idea how or where we’d find everyone.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed a phaser, “They went to their nest. It should be north; there is a map of the terrain on the phaser we can follow,” And with that, he pressed a button of the phaser, which also turned on a flashlight. “Captain, do you think you are in any shape to fight? I was surprised you were able to stand up long enough to take down those two guards.”

“I am fine. I can fight, don’t worry about me.”

“Which, by the way, thank you for saving me back there,” You had never been that close to dying before. “Y/N, it is me who should be thanking you. Without you, I am fairly sure I would have bled to death tied up at that camp.”

------------------------

Part 2

I enjoyed writing it so I hope yall liked it

#jim kirk #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk imagines #james kirk #jim kirk imagine #james kirk x reader #james kirk imagines #star trek #james kirk imagine #star trek imagines #star trek imagine #captain kirk x reader #startrek x reader #startrek #star trek fanfiction #kirk x reader

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biggirllifestyle · 3 years

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Over the Rails: Sparkly bands

Summary: After Peter posts, a video of him and his friends at the roller rink on the Avengers group chat, Bucky can’t seem to get his mind off of Peter’s friend who stole the show. And after getting goaded into going skating with the other Avengers (by Natasha’s conniving planning) where Peter’s friend works at well Bucky can’t help but feel that there’s something more to look towards to.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-Sized Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of physical harm from roller skating, etc.

A/N: It’s something…

If you would have asked her what was going through her mind the moment her eyes landed on Bucky Barnes, well Bibi could have told you that she was freaking the fuck out. She thought that nothing else could embarrass her more than that stupid speech Peter had made her do for losing a wager, but here she was right after face to face with her childhood hero and crush of many years and the only thing she thought of saying to him was ‘What’ll be Sarge?’

Ugh, pathetic.

Here was her chance to finally talk to people who were the most unselfish individuals, who. put their life on the line for the greater good and today she was to become their mentor. Sergeant Barnes seemed to be entertained by her flustered remark, a beautiful smile spreading across his face that made her heart flutter. The Black Widow was sitting on the counter putting on her skates, Bibi didn't feel like she had the guts to let her know that she wasn’t allowed to be on the counter so she let her be.

“I’ll take a pair of twelve in a half skates, doll,” Bucky said as he saw her turn towards the shelf grabbing him a pair of dark faded skates. Her cheeks were burning bright red and Bucky felt a deep satisfaction for being the reason. Somebody yelled out her name from the rink, so she gave him an apologetic smile before pushing herself off and skating towards whoever had called her, Bucky couldn’t help but stare as she glided around with ease.

Natasha shimmied herself closer to where he had bent down to tug off his boots, from the corner of his eyes he could see her dark red skates swinging back and forward nonchalantly but he knew better than that. He looked up at her waiting for a teasing remark but her expression was enough especially as she wiggled her eyebrows at him, taunting him.

Pathetic.

Bucky looked away, lasering on, tying his skates avoiding Nat’s eyes, he couldn’t help but worry that maybe he wasn't cut out for skating as he used to be, maybe Steve had exaggerated a little bit when he was talking about his experience. He stood ready to take a step forward before wobbling, almost losing his footing and falling, okay maybe Steve had exaggerated too much. Natasha jumped off the counter landing neatly on her skates without any form of trouble before throwing him a mocking grin as she skated away, Bucky glared at her retreating form as he finished getting his laces tied, he stood and took a confident step forward and almost broke his nose as his foot slipped he caught himself on the encounter.

He looked up trying to make out if his slip was caught by anybody but it seemed no one had been paying attention to him, he tried again a little more tentatively wobbling towards where Tony, Pepper who had just arrived with Morgan, Steve, and Sam were standing around watching the others get instructions from Peter’s girlfriend on how to stand on their skates, Peter, Shuri, Ned were already skating around trying to outmaneuver each other to see who could do a better move.

He looked around trying to see where you were when he finally spotted you, Morgan, at your side clinging to your arm as she followed in slower glides from her skates, you had taken a slow pace to accommodate to her still being a beginner your skirt flowed around you, and Bucky was mesmerized.

“Wow!” Pepper exclaimed. “She’s going to be amazing with the kids.”

Bucky roused from his trance as he turned towards Pepper who was watching you closely as you and Morgan skated by as both of you raised a hand at them and waved, Tony stood by a camera in hand taking pictures and videos. She turned to him, a small smirk in place as she gave a side glance at Tony who was trying very hard to avoid the conversation.

“Nat might have mentioned you would have an interest in anything on our new nanny/tutor for Morgan and Charlie.”

“New nanny, since when?”

“Since last week, Peter mentioned she was majoring in child development and education and was in dire need of a job. Morgan needed a tutor and we also needed someone who could help me out with Charlie when I had to show up to meetings and Tony was out on missions, so it was a win-win situation.”

Bucky’s curiosity was piqued by the extra information he was given on you, and just as he was about to indirectly ask for more Nat had skated over hitting him at the back of his head.

“What are you doing over here?” She asked as he ignored his pointed glare as he tried to soothe the spot where she had hit him “The whole point of making this happen was for you to be able to get a chance and talk to this girl, so get your ass out there sergeant.”

Buck huffed out a breath knowing it was true and feeling a little triumph in getting Natasha to confess that this was all her doing. He took a step forward as the music changed to a much more upbeat tempo, something that made him feel confident about what he was doing as he finally stepped on the floor you zoomed past him as you gave a full 180 turn that left him a little speechless. Knowing that he was interrupted earlier and maybe this was his only chance to have a conversation with you so Bucky squared his shoulders and took a small little step forward.

And he fell.

Bucky had fallen right on his face in front of everybody and this time it could not be ignored.

He heard Natasha’s laugh from behind him, her loud cackles making his annoyance flair up as he tried to get up but his skate slipped and he fell once more making her laugh harder at him. He looked to his left trying to find Nat and send her a very helpful finger but the only thing he saw was an exchange of money from Tony to her as they clearly ignored his mortification of the situation. He felt like nothing else could go even worse, maybe he could go to Fury and ask him to send him on a mission deep in the jungle where he could disappear for a year or so.

“Are you okay? Do you need some help?”

Forget the jungle, Antártica sounded so much better at this moment. He looked up his hair getting in the way as he saw you crouching down a few feet away giving him space so he wouldn’t be startled by her proximity, he knew that if he were to try and get up by himself it would end back with him sprawled on the floor so he lightly gave a nod at her as confirmation. Just as you were in the crouching position you used your hands to glide towards him, your skirt dragging on the dirty ground and he couldn’t help the frown on his face when he saw it.

It was a pretty skirt. He thought.

You didn’t reach out to him or tried to lift him as others would do but instead, you held out your hand palm up, giving him a say when he wanted to take your hand. He hesitated as he took your hand, it was so soft that he didn't want to let it go. After you gave him a small boost and explained to him the perfect way to position his feet so he didn't slip again, Bucky was up towering over you, your hands holding him so there wasn’t another incident.

“It’s much harder than what people think.” You said to him as you let him go, Bucky pushed his hair back, he had forgotten to bring a hair tie that Nat had given to him earlier in the day so here he was struggling with his hair as he tried to get it in control, you held out your hand again and Bucky felt his heart jump at the sparkly hair tie you were holding out to him.

“People think it’s all fun and games until they break a few bones and twist a few ankles, then they decide that skating just isn’t for them.”

Bucky looked at you as he finished picking up his hair trying to see if you were joking or not a small little smile danced upon your lips and he couldn’t help the small laugh he let out.

“Sacrifices should be made when you want to improve yourself.”

You nodded at his words behind you he could see Morgan dragging along Thor helping him glide about as he held her small hand in his, he turned back to you as you gave him a smile holding out your hand to his.

“I was told you wanted some private lessons, how about you take my hand and trust that I will be the best teacher you've probably ever had.”

#plus size #plus size ofc #plus size oc #original work #bucky fanfic #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

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Danger Days - Chapter nineteen: "If you're gone (maybe it's time to come home)"

Word count: 16,9K

Summary: Joey is not ready to start touring, but being away from Matthew sounds like a good plan to get over him. But... Matthew has other plans, and he is determined to be forgiven. Gerard is not letting his illusions go either, but he has to realize he is wasting his time.

Warnings: Cursing, there are some arguments, a little angst, and some fluff.

A/N: I'm soft.

Masterlist

::: March 30th, 2011. Los Angeles :::

Frank sighed and looked around. It was early morning, and there was chaos around him. It was video shooting day, and his family was with him at the small indoor venue where MCR was recording the “Planetary Go” music video. Five hundred kids were outside, waiting in line to get there and be part of the show. Meanwhile, inside the arena, his wife and kids hung out with Joey, Ray, and Mikey in the dressing room. They were still waiting for Gerard, who was late, as pretty much always.

- "I brought some things you might need through these next months"- Jamia said to Joey as Frank walked closer- Mostly books and a few maternity shirts I loved.

- "Thank you! I’m gonna need all your help, ‘cos I have no fucking idea what I’m doing."

- "You are gonna be just fine! You have mom material!"- Jamia pointed out as the young woman held Lily in her arms, smiling- "You are glowing"- Joey grinned- "Now tell me everything about, have you seen him? Have you talked to him? Did you tell him?"

The drummer widened her eyes and held her breath for a second. Mikey looked at her and kissed her temple.

- "I’ve seen him, I told him, he is thrilled, he has been..."- she made a pause and tried to find the right words to describe how the last ten days had been for her- "Incredibly caring and supportive. I hate him"- Mrs. Iero frowned.

- "He is making it hard for you to hate him, right?"

- "Awfully! I swear I have to do some exhausting mental work to keep myself from forgiving him each time I see him! It’s awful!"

- "If you want to forgive him…"- Jamia started, but Joey shook her head.

- "No! This is not about forgiving him because I won’t! once a cheater, always a cheater!"

- "Yeah… that’s true."

- "And I don’t trust him!"

- "I know…"

- "And..."

- "It’s ok, Joey. Don’t worry"- Jamia smiled and changed the subject- "Did you tell your parents yet?"

- "No, we are gonna be in Seattle in four days, so I’ll tell them in person."

- "Are they going to the show?"

- "Yeah! They are thrilled! And they want to meet the band, which I know is gonna be weird. I’m so glad you are coming along for this leg."

- "I was dying to come with you, and now you have two babies to get used to"- Joey chuckled, but her happiness was clouded when Gerard walked into the room with Lynz.

Ever since her talk with Mikey, Joey had successfully managed to stay away from Gerard. And the best part: no one had asked if there was something wrong, ‘cos though neither Frank nor Ray knew the details of the story, they both knew there was something definitely wrong in the way Gerard looked at the drummer, and she was clearly awkward around him.

Gerard was in hell, and he knew he deserved it. He had crossed the line, and the distance between him and Joey was the proof. Gerard was afraid even to talk to her, and he felt the wall his brother had created around her. Mikey wasn’t mad at him anymore. He was just worried about him and also a little disappointed. Gerard had always made sure to give him a positive example- even in his darkest times- and suddenly, that whole mess fell upon them.

- "Hey guys!"- Lynz said with a happy face and arms wide open as she walked into the room and started hugging everybody, including Joey, who felt like a whore the second she saw her. She had promised her she was never going to do anything with her husband, and she had failed.

- "Hi Lynz! How are you?"- Joey tried to keep a straight face and smiled.

- "Congratulations! Gerard told me about your baby!"

- "Thank you so much!"- the drummer was making the biggest effort to look happy and natural- "Wanna see the ultrasound?"

Gerard looked at the scene, and his stomach tightened. Joey seemed to be so happy. The drummer gave Frank his daughter and took the ultrasound from her backpack.

- "Hey! I wanna see it too!"- Ray said, moving closer.

- "That little bean is my baby!"- Joey pointed and chuckled- Can you believe that tiny thing is gonna be a person?!

- "Shit!"- Ray sort of mumbled- "It’s so small!"

- "Ok, kids! outfits ready?"- Brian walked into the room and looked at them- "Neither of you is ready, come on! Move! We are late!"

Matthew finished packing and smiled. He wasn’t carrying much, but it was enough to follow Joey for the next eighteen concerts she had with the band, starting march 21st and until April 23rd. His plan was simple: standing in the first row of every show and cheering for the drummer. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, and he was willing to postpone his whole life for her. He had gotten in trouble in his job for doing that, and he didn’t care. He wanted to be with Joey, and he wanted her to know how much he loved her, and if that meant being fired from Criminal Minds, so be it.

He put the eighteen tickets for the shows he had already gotten in an envelope and smiled pleased.

- "This has to work"- he said out loud- "I mean… it has to, ‘cos I don’t know what to do next…"- he grabbed his phone and looked at the hour.

- “Good luck with the video today”- he wrote and sent.

The latest days had been weird for him and Joey. She would accept to see him when it came to things related to the baby, but of course, she would never let him get too close. The nap they had shared had been the last time he had held her in his arms. The rest of the time, she had been distant, and though he had done his best to stay calm and positive, sometimes it scared him to think maybe he was really going to die trying to get her back.

But “weird” didn’t mean bad, though. And Matthew had made the best of the time he had shared with her. He would bring her treats she liked and would call every morning to know how she felt. She always picked up. That was good; it meant she didn’t hate talking to him.

He also took her to see a nutritionist, to help them make a meal plan, considering Joey wasn’t the healthiest person when it came to meals. They also had a conversation with a personal trainer to help her identify the exercises and movements she could do to train and stay fit those first months. Besides, Matthew kept getting thoughtful presents to make her pregnancy more comfortable, and he brought one every day as an excuse to see her, even for a minute. He got her the pregnancy pillow and customized it as one of his stuffed monsters. He got her natural spa products for her bath to help her relax. He even got a tiny drum for the baby. Joey hated him because she couldn’t stay mad at him if he was being so adorable. He bought her so much food she was sure she was getting fat for eating too much and not because of her pregnancy.

- “Thank you”- his phone dinged, and he quickly read the text, smiling.

- “Wanna come for dinner tonight?”- he wrote and held his breath. It was a bold move, but he needed to play all his cards.

- “Better not, I’ve got an early flight.”- she replied. Joey held the phone in her hands tight, locked in the bathroom. She really didn’t have to change for the video, she just had to put on an MCR t-shirt, and she wanted to fix her hair. Joey wasn’t really going to be in many shots anyway, she just was a support player in the back. She couldn’t take the eyes from the phone, though she knew she had to. She was waiting for Matthew’s answer.

- “Can I stop later to say goodbye?”- and a smile lodged on his lips as he wrote those words. Joey had no idea he was going to be on tour. Joey bit her inner lip as she considered the options. She wanted to see him but didn’t want to give him hope, but he was the father of her kid, but… he cheated.

- “I can bring some dinner, in case you get home tired and you don’t want to cook.”

- “Mother fucker!!”- the girl coursed and sighed- “See you at seven.”

- "Yes!!"- Matthew jumped from his bed and danced around his room on his own. He just had to be calmed and try not to fuck it up. He could do that, right?

Lynz kept a good eye during the whole day, trying to see if Joey would look at Gerard, but she didn’t. They didn’t really talk at all. She knew Joey had told her they weren’t close, which made sense with the scene in front of her. It was like Gerard didn’t exist for the drummer.

- “Isn’t that weird too?”- Mrs. Way thought. She could notice Gerard was concentrated entirely on the whole “making the video” process. He kept checking with the director and making sure everything was ok. Joey talked with Mikey and laughed a lot with Ray. Her husband and the young woman never interacted except during the show. Gerard wouldn’t stop going back to the drum and looking at her every time they had to perform. Just like Lynz had seen in the Valencia show. Joey didn’t seem to pay that much attention. She would be playing, their eyes would crush, they would nod, that was it.

- “Ok, if it doesn’t seem to be anything going on, why can’t I shake these thoughts from my head”- the bassist asked herself as she kept staring at her husband performing.

During the break, Joey walked away from the stage and the noise and locked herself in the bathroom again. She checked her cell phone and read.

- “Do you think we could ever get to be friends?”- and she held her breathing, nearly in shock. The text was from Gerard. When the fuck did he text her? He had been there the whole time. She looked around, but she was alone in the bathroom. She reread it, frowning. Why was he texting her? They had managed to spend weeks talking the minimal, and she was completely in favor of keep doing the same for the rest… of her life, basically. And so she didn’t reply. It was clearly easier for her to stay away from Gerard than from Matthew for obvious reasons.

- "Hey!"- Lynz walked into the bathroom and smiled. Joey kept looking at her reflection in the mirror, fixing her makeup- "How are you feeling?"

- "Like I could puke everything I’ve ever eaten, and at the very same time, so fucking hungry"- the drummer answered with a smile- "How have you been? I haven’t seen you since London."

- "Good, busy, thank God. That’s the only way I can stand being apart from Gerard for so long."

- "It was an eternal tour!"- Joey added- "It felt like a lifetime! Are you coming along these following dates?"

- "Yeah! I’ll be there on April 5th, I have to finish a project I’m doing with a friend, and I’ll take a plane to Canada."

- "Awesome!"- Joey was doing her best to be as normal as possible. Besides, she honestly liked Lynz- "You and Jamia! Finally, I’m not gonna be the only woman around! You have no idea how exciting this is for me. I’ve been around guys my whole life, but I really need a break after these last months. I’m actually hoping to have a girl"- Joey guided her hand to her stomach and chuckled.

- "What did Matthew say, by the way?"- the drummer sighed and closed her eyes- "Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Gerard told me what happened between you two."

- "No, don’t worry"- Joey smiled and sighed again- "Matthew is happy with the baby news."

- "That’s good."

- "He is thrilled, actually. He cried when I told him, cried during the ultrasound, cried when he realized the baby due is close to Halloween."- Joey couldn’t help but smile, remembering his face, tears filling his eyes as she told him she was pregnant. She had never imagined he would be so happy.

- "And how is everything between you two?"

- “Did that little shithead tell his wife everything going on in my life or what?!”- the drummer didn’t answer. She felt pretty awkward knowing Lynz was aware of the whole story.

- "Sorry… I didn’t mean to intrude."

- "It’s ok… I…"- Joey scratched the back of her neck, honestly nervous about explaining her mind- I’m sorry, I’m just not really used to talk about things with people.

- "No, please, I was out of place, I just… Gerard was in shock when he told me, and he said you were pretty affected"- Joey nodded and looked down.

- "Yeah, I was a mess, but I’m better now…"- the two of them stayed in silence for a few seconds, that felt like hours- "I should go back"- Joey pointed to the door, and Lynz nodded.

- "I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable"

- "Don’t worry, I’ve got problems communicating with people… not just in this matter"- Joey tried to smile, though she knew she still looked pretty awkward- "It’s a long story."

- "Hey, no need to explain, really"- Lynz opened her arms and hugged her.

Joey didn’t get a thing. Why was she being so nice? Did Lynz want to be her friend? Was she being honest or just trying to be friendly under the circumstances? Did she want to get closer to her to know if she was crushed on Gerard? There were too many questions around Joey’s head, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to try to find an answer to any of them. She just hugged Lynz back and cut her a friendly smile.

The whole recording process took the entire morning and part of the afternoon. By the time they were done- and gave the kids in the audience a short show of five songs - the band and their families were ready to go home.

- "Bug, we are gonna go grab dinner together. Wanna come?"- Mikey wrapped an arm around Joey and kissed her temple as they all grabbed their things in the dressing room.

- "I’m too tired. I wanna go home."

- "Want me to go with you? Ask for some take-out? Maybe from the Vietnamese place you wanted to try, watch a movie… you know, rest before the tour that’s coming, what do you say?"- Joey smiled but declined.

- "I have plans…"- Mikey raised an eyebrow and nodded.

- "You are gonna see Gubler"- and by the tone in his voice, she knew he wasn’t happy with the news.

- "He is gonna drop by to say goodbye."

- "Sure… are you sure you are ok with him?"

- "What do you mean?"

- "You have been hanging out with him a lot."

- "No, I haven’t!"

- "Name one day this week you haven’t seen him"- Mikey furrowed his brows and crossed his arms on his chest, staring at the drummer.

- "Today?"- she answered, thinking.

- "See?"

- "He keeps bringing presents for the baby. What am I going to say? Stop being such a good dad?"

The whole band was overhearing the conversation. They were all pretty nosey, actually. And the whole Matthew/Joey drama was their favorite subject at the moment.

- "He ain’t trying to be a good dad! He is trying to win you over! Are you gonna let him break your heart again?"

That escalated quickly. Joey stood in front of his friend, not knowing what to say. Lucky for her, Lynz was the one to talk next.

- "Are you jealous, Mikey?"- though her words weren’t really the best to be spoken at the moment. The bassist looked at his sister in law almost in shock, nearly insulted.

- "Not jealous, worried. I am concerned about her ‘cos I don’t want her to get hurt again, is that a fucking sin or what?"

- "No, it’s not! I’m just asking ‘cos you sound like a jealous boyfriend worried his girlfriend is gonna cheat or whatever."

Joey hated Lynz’s comment, every single word in it, ‘cos it was meant to start a fight. Had she said it with those intentions?

- “No, she didn’t… did she? Is she trying to know if Mikey and I are into anything? No, stop being paranoid!”

- "I’m not jealous, Lynz"- Mikey’s words were cold as he responded with a serious face- "I’m just worried and taking care of her. That’s what friends do."

- "Sorry! There’s no need to get all serious."

- "Ok, dinner?"- Ray clapped and tried to lighten the mood- "Let’s go before Frank gets all cranky."

They all nodded and started walking. Gerard made sure to stay a little behind as his wife talked with Jamia and moved closer to Joey.

- "You didn’t answer my text"- he whispered, and the drummer froze in shock, even a little scared. Why was he talking to her? They had managed to spend weeks without saying a word directly to each other. Why did he decide to talk to her the only day they had been around his wife?

- "Sorry, I’ve been busy"- Joey mumbled and started walking quickly to get away from him.

- "And would we ever be friends?"- Gerard asked, following her and talking under breath, making sure no one except her could hear him.

- "Sure, if you stop saying nonsenses, we can be friends."

- "Nonsenses? You mean telling you that I love you?"- the young woman widened her eyes and turned to him immediately.

- "Don’t say that! Ever again!"

- "But I do. I am in love with you, Sugar."

- "And that’s why we can’t be friends"- Joey sentenced and walked to her car, never looking back. She said goodbye to the rest of the band, kissed Cherry and Lily a few times each, and drove home.

- “What the fuck Gerard?!”- she yelled inside her head- “What the fuck is his problem?! His wife was right here? And he keeps telling me that he loves me? is he stupid? Has the stress affected his brain functions? Did he start drinking again?”.

There was no explanation for his behavior, and it freaked Joey out, ‘cos a new leg of the tour was starting the day after, and she didn’t want to face it that way. She didn’t want to travel with Lynz knowing her husband was trying to get into her pants again.

Again, that was the worst part. Joey felt like a whore knowing what had happened with Gerard. She didn’t want to even think about it, but the image kept coming to her mind. His lips on her, kissing her jawline, her neck, her breast… If she hadn’t thought he was Matthew, would she have let him go on? If she wasn’t in love with her ex, would she had sex with Gerard, even knowing he was married?

The answer could actually scare her, ‘cos it was against everything she had ever believed in. But she thought it was possible. The only thing that kept her from having sex with Gerard was that she was in love with Matthew.

If she had sex with Gerard, would she stop loving Matthew? The girl shook her head, frowning, disgusted by her own thoughts. That was never going to be a good idea.

Gerard was in silence, staring at the food in front of him. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to be there. He could hear his friends talking, his wife laughing, but all his mind could register was the fact Joey was now in her apartment with Gubler. With the guy he hated the most in the whole world. With the guy Gerard wanted to be. The guy he was jealous of. The one she loved instead of him. Just the thought of what could happen between them made him sick in the stomach.

Was she going to forgive him? Was she going to have sex with him? Was she going to marry him after all? Matthew was going to be with her that night. He was going to make her laugh, he was going to lean over her slowly and whisper sweet words in her ear. He was gonna make her blush, he was going to get her wet and cream her undies.

The singer shook his head and tried to think of anything else. But he couldn’t.

- "Are you ok?"- his wife asked, frowning- "You haven’t had a bite."

- "I’m not hungry"- Way whispered and tried his best to cut her a nice natural, all innocent smile.

- "Sure?"- Lynz touched his forehead in case he had a temperature, but he was ok- "Do you want to go home and rest?"- the singer nodded right away

- "Yes, I think I need to lay down for a while."

- "Ok, I’ll tell the guys."

Gerard was full of it. But going home and locking himself in his studio sounded like a nice idea. At least there, no one could see him freaking out over the idea of Joey being with someone else but him.

Matthew counted to ten as he stood outside his car and took three deep breaths to calm himself down. He had done the same, like a mantra, each time he walked into Joey’s apartment those days. He had to control himself from running over, from making a mistake. He had to make sure he wasn’t going to mess it up with her, Paget had told him over and over again: he only had one chance to make things right, and he couldn’t fuck it up.

His friend was the only one who knew Matthew was gonna be a dad, and she was as thrilled as he was, mostly ‘cos she knew how badly Gubler wanted to have a baby. And the fact he loved Joey more than anything made it even more perfect. Well, it would be perfect if he hadn’t cheated, but both of them hoped to fix that any time now. As soon as possible, as a matter of fact.

- "Hey"- Matthew smiled as his ex-girlfriend opened the door. She was already in her pajamas, make-up swept off her face, a messy bun on her hair, and some chocolate around her lips. Matthew had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment.

- "Shouldn’t you be quitting sugar already? We agreed no more lava cakes from this week on."

- "I’m eating the leftovers from the fridge, ‘cos it’s all gonna be rotten when I come back, and the whole place is gonna stink"- Joey answered, cleaning the corner of her mouth, turning back to the kitchen.

- "You know chocolate won’t get bad… wait, where did you get chocolate from?"- Joey turned to him and grinned.

- "Frankie got me some"- Gubler nodded and left the take-out boxes on the counter.

- "Are you hungry?"

- "Actually… I don’t know… are you?"

- "A little. But I can wait a while if you want…"- he smiled at her and stared in silence. The young woman turned away to the fridge again and opened it.

- "Anything else that’s gonna spoil while you are away?"- he asked.

- "Not much… peanut butter will live, I guess."

- "Yeah."

- "And ketchup."

- "Yeah… but ketchup was making you sick a few days ago."

- "But who knows next week..."- the conversation between them was so natural, neither of them remembered how bad things were between them for a long while.

They talked about the fridge, the new self-watering system Joey had gotten for her plants, and how excited she was to see her parents again. And that was when Matthew pushed things a little too far.

- "Are you going to tell them about the baby?"

- "I don’t know"- Joey simply answered and walked away from him. She had been walking away from him most of the time he had spent in her apartment, and he kept following her like a lost puppy through the whole place.

- "Why not?"

- "‘Cos they are gonna ask too many things. ‘Cos I want to know if everything is ok with the baby first, wait until he is twelve weeks. And mostly, ‘cos I’m gonna have to tell them you are a cheater mother fucker and that we are not getting married, and I haven’t seen them in forever… I don’t wanna ruin the trip."

- "Maybe you don’t have to tell them we broke up,"- Joey raised an eyebrow and looked at him, standing on the frame of the bathroom door, staring at her putting all her beauty products (the few she had) in a “go-to” bag.

- "Sure, Matthew"- her answer was snarky, and she refused to turn to him.

- "I mean… we don’t have to break up"

- "Again? You wanna do this again?"- her voice was annoyed, making it clear she was tired of talking about their relationship.

- "We’ve danced around the subject all week, and we haven’t properly talked about it."

- "We are over because your cock was in your ex’s mouth the night of your birthday a few weeks ago. That’s all there is to know about that subject. That’s why we are in this fucking shitty situation. And no, Matthew Gray Gubler, I am not going to forgive you! So can you just drop it?!"

A heavy silence hung in the room. Joey lost it, and she ended up yelling. She was tired, she was sad, she was stressed. And most of it, she was anxious and slightly depressed over the whole deal.

- "I’m tired of this shit! We are gonna be parents together. I swear I am doing my best to get along with you and have a healthy relationship. Still, the fact is, I am doing my best to stop fucking loving you ‘cos I am not going to get back together with you! Ever!"

Her words were full of anger, and she couldn’t stop herself from screaming at him.

Matthew looked at Joey in silence. He didn’t know what to say at that. He had a lot of ideas in his head, but all of them were probably just going to get her even more upset. And that was the last thing he wanted to do that minute. And so, he just nodded and turned around and left the room. Joey sat on the edge of the bathtub and bit her lips.

- "I got this for our baby today"- he murmured a few minutes later when he walked back to the bathroom.

- "What is it?"- Joey mumbled and looked at the iPod Matthew gave her- "What? You know the baby won’t use one of these in probably another ten years, right?"

- "It’s not the iPod, it’s what’s in it"- the drummer nodded and wondered what was in it- "I just…"

Matthew cleared his throat. Words came painfully slow from his lips as he spoke.

- "I recorded a few stories and tales and things for the baby, so they can listen to my voice while you are away. That way, they won’t forget me"- Joey’s heart ached in love at those words.

- “This is one smooth loving bastard”- she thought and took a deep breath- "Thank you, that’s very thoughtful"- he shook his head and took a few steps back from her, ‘cos he knew all his body wanted was to lean over her and kiss her.

- "It’s nothing"- he sighed and made a pause- "I’m just worried if we are not gonna be together again, my baby might forget about me."

Those words broke Joey’s already broken heart. The sadness that Matthew’s face reflected showed her how bad he was feeling and reminded her that this was also a troubled time for him. Even when he was the one that had brought those problems to their relationship.

- "I promise you, that’s never gonna happen. You are always going to be our baby’s dad, and you are always going to be part of their life, no matter what"- he nodded and looked down, biting the inner part of his cheeks.

- "I think I better go"- Joey didn’t want him to go. He didn’t want to go, but her words had been so hard, they had left him speechless. Uneasy. Depressed.

- "You…"- the young woman stood up and took a deep breath, not know what to say- "You can take your part of dinner if you want."

That was not what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, “I’m sorry I just said all that in the nastiest way possible. I fucking love you, stay with me and hold me ‘cos I am scared and sad and alone”. But that was not what came out from her lips.

Matthew nodded and walked to the kitchen. He sighed and closed his eyes as he grabbed his box of Chinese noodles. That evening hadn’t come out as he was hoping. It had actually been the complete opposite. He had fucked it up. Making Joey upset only caused more pain to the two of them. He knew she would say things in the most painful way possible, not because she wanted to, but because that’s how she reacted when hurt. Hurting back. Hurting deeper.

Joey stood in the middle of the hall, watching Matthew grab all his things and turn to her.

- "Take care"- he whispered, and she nodded slowly.

- "You too."

- "I’ll call you to know about the baby bean"- she nodded again.

- "Of course. I’ll see you when I come back, and we’ll have another check-up"- he looked at her as she whispered those words. Each one of them hurt as they left her lips, ‘cos they were goodbye words, and she didn’t want to say goodbye.

Matthew just stood there, staring at her, not knowing how to move. He didn’t have the strength to walk away from her at that moment. Still, the words she had just practically yelled at him were a warning he was pushing her, and by pushing, he was never going to make things better. He had such a sad look in his eyes, Joey took a step closer to him. He kept his eyes on hers, almost holding his breath.

- "And… thank you for being here with us"- she held her hand on her tiny belly as she spoke- "I know it’s hard and all, I just… want you to know… I appreciate it."

- "They are my baby too"- he simply answered with a short and sad smile on his lips- "I would do anything for the two of you, any day."

Joey bit her lips and took another step closer. He stood still, not knowing what to do. Joey walked slowly to him and stood right in front of him.

- "Sorry about what I said"- she managed to whisper.

- "No, Joey, please don’t apologize, you said what you said ‘cos it’s the truth, and I understand how mad you are… please don’t say you are sorry for something I brought to myself, to the two of us"- Matthew made a pause and sighed, his eyes stuck into Joey’s- "To the three of us, actually"- she nodded slowly.

- "I didn’t want you to leave with an argument if we were not going to see each other until another month"- Joey managed to murmur but couldn’t hold her eyes in Matthew’s for another second, and so she looked down.

- "I didn’t want to start a fight either…"

The two of them stayed in silence. The distance between them was so small Matthew could hold her tight if he only took one step ahead. But he controlled himself. It was one of the most challenging efforts he had ever made, and he moved his hand to her chin, lifting her face sweetly.

- "Take care, ok?"- his eyes traveled slowly from her lips to her eyes, and he noticed how her cheeks blushed sweetly.

- "Ok"- she whispered, nodding.

- "I’ll call you"- she didn’t say a thing and just nodded again. Matthew moved carefully over her and landed his lips on her forehead. It was the sweetest touch Joey had ever recalled feeling from him. So delicate and tender, and at the same time with such intense love. It was impossible for her not to close her eyes and feel her knees trembling. He stared at her in silence and smiled shyly before whispering “Goodnight” and walking out of her house.

Joey stared at the door and restrained herself from the deep desire to run after him and wrap her arms around his neck, to kiss him deeply. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Instead, she walked to her couch and laid down, wrapping her arms around her legs, feeling how warm tears fell from her eyes. How many times can a heartbreak after being broken? ‘Cos every time Matthew said goodbye, her heart ached, just like the day they broke up. And her body ached, feeling the empty space he left by her side.

- "I love you so fucking much"- she mumbled, sobbing. Tears kept falling like a waterfall until she fell asleep.

::: March 31st, 2011. Oakland :::

Mikey looked at Joey as they walked into the hotel and checked in. They had hardly shared a word that day, ever since they left California. She sat with Jamia and helped with the babies the whole trip, and her plan was to continue to do the same until it was time to play the show.

- "Are you mad?"- he asked out of the blunt as he stood next to her in the middle of the lobby, both waiting for their room keys.

- "No, why?"

- "You are not talking to me."

- "You haven’t talked to me either"- she answered with a shrug- "Are you mad at me?"- Joey furrowed her brows as she spoke, thinking maybe that was the point, and she never actually noticed it.

- "No"

- "Then?"

- "Are you ok?"

- "I’m tired and puked breakfast on the plane, you?"

- "I’m tired and drank three coffees on the plane ‘cos I couldn’t sleep"- Joey nodded at her friend’s words- "Why does it feel weird?"- Mikey pointed out and crossed his arms on his chest

- "I don’t know... - the drummer answered and looked at his shoes- "I love those boots."

- "I’m not gonna give them to you. They are not your number."

- "Shut up"- Joey cut him a short smile, and he did the same- "I hated Lynz’s comment last night"- Joey confessed and kicked Mikey’s boot friendly

- "Me too… Gerard said I was too rude to her."

- "You were, but she kind of deserved it"- Mikey chuckled at Joey’s confession- "Really, I just hated so much how she was insinuating you were jealous of whatever, considering she has no idea we are best friends!

- "I know! I thought the same"

- "That’s ‘cos we are best friends"- Joey added and smiled, giggling. Mikey looked at her and wrapped his arms around her slowly.

- "Did you have a good night after you saw that asshole?"

- "Yeah, it was ok"- Joey lied, hiding her face in his chest- "He brought dinner and left."

- "Good"- they rocked slowly, still hugged. Mikey kissed the top of her head and whispered- "I’m not jealous."

- "I know"

- "I’m just scared"

- "Why?"- Joey moved apart from him but never got an answer. Jeffrey showed up and gave them their keys.

- "Get ready. We’ve got an interview in an hour here in the conference room"- the bassist frowned, nodding.

- "Good news for me, I get to get some more sleep"- Joey added and stuck out her tongue to Mikey.

- "I hate you"

- "I know."

Gerard looked at his brother talking with Joey. He saw how they hugged. How he kissed the top of her head. How she smiled at him sweetly and hid her face on his chest. They looked like a fucking couple, and he hated everything about it.

- "Stop it"- Ray said and stood next to him- "I thought you were gonna be over your fucking obsession by now"- he pointed out with an eased tone of voice like he was just talking about the weather.

- "You are gonna fuck everything up if you keep looking at her like that"

- "What do you know?"

- "I know she won’t talk to you at all, and I think there has to be a reason I don’t know"- Gerard stayed still, pretending those hadn’t hurt him. Or scared him. He didn’t even look at Ray as he spoke.

- "And I know you like her, so stay away from her before you do something that ruins everything."

- "I’m not gonna ruin anything."

- "Your wife is gonna be here soon."

- "I love my wife."

- "I know… just try not to stare at Joey drooling, like she is the object of your undeniable desire and love when Lynz is around."

Gerard turned to his friend and tried to say something back, but nothing came out.

- "And for the love of God, don’t fuck it up!"- Ray tapped on his back and walked away.

Gerard Way was busted. He was fucked. And it was the first day of the tour.

Matthew laid on his bed and sighed. He was in Oakland, staying at a hotel two blocks from Joey’s. He had made sure not to book his room in the same place as her, to keep a safe distance in case she got too mad- which was always an option with her, especially under those circumstances. Those were the worst circumstances they had ever faced, so Matthew was being extra precautious. Even more after what had happened the night before. He was still angry with himself for pushing her too much. He had to be patient.

- “Let’s hope she won’t get angry with me for doing this.”- he thought and stared at the ceiling. He could only stay still for a minute or so. He quickly moved to his bag, grabbed a book and his phone.

- "Hey"- Joey’s voice at the other side of the line made him smile right away

- "Hello, how was your trip?"

- "It was ok"- Joey cleared her throat and looked at her feet as she walked around her room. She felt weird and awkward talking to Matthew after what had happened the night before- "How are you?"

- "I’m ok…"

- "How are you feeling from the bruises from the car crash?"

- "Like nothing ever happened"

- "Good…"- there was a silence on the line. Matthew could hear Joey’s breathing as she scratched the back of his neck and said the first thing that came to his mind.

- "So at what time is the concert tonight?"

- "At eight"

- "Good… and… are you having lunch soon?"

- "I don’t know. I was thinking about napping now and maybe grab a late bite before going to the arena."

- "Remember the nutritionist said you shouldn’t skip meals"- the drummer sighed, knowing he was right.

- "But I’m so sleepy, I’m gonna fall asleep on the table eating."

- "You couldn’t sleep last night? “God knows I couldn’t.”

- “I did. “No, I didn’t. I stayed up crying and thinking about how much I love you, damn it!”

- "Then why are you so tired?"

- "Maybe because I’m turning food into a human being"- Matthew chuckled at those words, and Joey smiled, listening to his reaction.

- "That seems to be a good reason. I’m sorry I questioned you"- the girl kept the grin on her face for a second

- "That’s ok. I should really go grab something to eat and then nap. You are right about that."

- "Talk to you later?"- he asked as casually as possible- "Maybe after the show, to know how you are feeling?"

- "Yeah, sure. Talk to you later, bye."

Matthew hung up and sighed. Just a few more hours and his plan to get his girl back would start. His stomach tightened as he imagined what Joey was gonna say when she saw him. Was she going to be mad? Was she going to be happy? Was the band going to hit him? There were too many questions for him to answer, so he did the only thing he could do: lay on his bed and grab the book he was carrying.

Jamia, the babies, and Joey had lunch together. The drummer loved having her around ‘cos she wasn’t alone back in the hotel all the time like she was in Europe, and that meant less time to overthink everything. She loved hanging out with Jamia ‘cos she was too nice and understanding with her. It felt like they could be friends. Jamia considered Joey her friend already, meanwhile the young woman still had trouble opening up with people.

Though she had to be honest with herself. The latest months had changed a lot of the things that made her a loner. It was all Matthew and My Chem. Except for Gerard. But for Joey, Gerard wasn’t really in the picture anymore. He was the guy she needed and wanted to avoid at any cost. Even if that cost meant to leave the band.

- "So… have you thought of any name already?"- Jamia and Joey were at the drummer’s room. The babies were napping, and the two women were laid on the bed, eating Oreos.

- "Not really… I just…"

- "It’s not real yet?"

- "It’s so not real yet"- Joey whispered and chuckled- "I keep looking at the ultrasound, and I can’t believe there’s a baby in my tummy… I bet I ate a sea monkey at some point, and that’s what’s been growing inside me"- Jamia snorted as she tried to keep it down and nearly laughed out loud.

- "Wait until the sea monkey starts kicking. That’s the weirdest thing of all"

- "You are not making it magical, J"- Joey made a pause and chuckled- "You are so gonna be J from now on"- and Jamia smiled.

- "Sounds nice coming from you."

- "Good, ‘cos I think I’ve got no more brain cells to think of anything else."

- "Oh honey! You are just starting!"- Mrs. Iero tapped on her friend’s leg as the two of them laid back next to the babies- "You have months of exciting emotions, like pregnancy arousal, cravings, hormonal changes, hair coming in weird places, and my personal favorite, pregnancy brain"- Joey frowned disgustedly.

- "I’m afraid to ask about the arousal, the hair, and the brain shit"

- "Whenever you are ready, I am here."

- "You are my Jamia San Kenobi"- Joey chuckled and sighed- "My pregnancy Jedi master"- and Jamia smiled.

- "I’m glad I can help"- and after a few minutes, they were both asleep as well.

The doors to the theater opened at five, and Matthew ran inside to make sure to grab a spot on the first row. He nearly tackled a few teenagers to get there. But he did and sighed, relieved at his success.

- "Hey! Where are you? did you make it?"- Paget called and didn’t even say hello to her friend. She just started asking questions right away, making him chuckle.

- "Hey! Yeah, I’m in Oakland, already at the theater. It’s a very cool venue, small, intimate… I’m almost sure Joey is gonna get to see me."

- "Are you in the first row?"

- "Of course, I am"

- "Good"- Paget smiled and nodded- "We miss you around here."

- "I’ll be there when everything is ok."

- "We know."

- "Is anyone mad at me?"- and Paget chuckled.

- "No, actually everybody thinks you are the sweetest and most romantic guy on earth following your girlfriend like that."

- "I’m following her to get her to be my girlfriend again, actually."

- "You get the point"- and Matthew chuckled- "Ok, Gubler, gotta go, please call me and tell me how this went."

- "Of course!"

- "Hey! Wait! Did you make a banner?"

- "Yes! I remembered your advice and got a banner."

- "What does it say?"

- “The distance is nothing when one has a motive”- the actor confessed proudly

- "Pride and Prejudice?"- Paget asked, puzzled.

- "Yes, her favorite, I’m making her banners with quotes from her favorite books"- and his friend sighed.

- "Stop it! I am gonna end up falling for you!"- and the actor chuckled- "If she doesn’t take you back, I am single!"

- "Shut up!"- Paget laughed, knowing Matthew had blushed, though he knew she was joking.

- "Call me later."

- "Sure thing!"

Joey kept jumping on her spot. She was backstage, feeling really psyched to play that day. She didn’t really know why. Maybe it was the two hours nap she had taken that afternoon with Cherry and Lily. Perhaps the fun size Snicker Mikey had just given her, breaking her meal plan on the first day on the road.

- "You look extra happy today"- and it all stopped the second she heard Gerard’s voice next to her.

- "Hey, yeah… I think it’s a sugar rush"- she answered and looked around, feeling safer knowing everybody was around her, including Jamia and the babies.

- "How are you feeling?"

- "Good"- Joey smiled and nodded- "You?"

- "Good… but I’m not pregnant"- the girl smiled and looked away from him, trying to keep that conversation as casual and distant as possible.

- "You look gorgeous, by the way"- Gerard whispered and even blushed as he moved a little closer to her- "I guess it’s true pregnant women glow and grow in beauty."

Joey took a step back and gulped as she felt her cheeks burning red as Gerard just continued talking.

- "‘Cos each time I see you, you catch my breath."

- "Please don’t..."

- "I’m just being nice"- Gerard smiled, pretending to look as innocent as possible.

- "You and I both know that’s not what you are doing."

- "Hey Iceland"- Frankie appeared all of a sudden and wrapped an arm around the young girl, kissing her temple and giving Gerard a glare that forced the singer to take a few steps back.

- "What are you guys talking about?"- and Joey sighed, relieved to feel him next to her, like a little guardian angel, though Frank Iero had nothing angelic.

- "I was just telling Joey she looks gorgeous today and that pregnant women are beautiful"- Gerard answered like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Joey wanted to run away or hide under a rock. Frank just tightened his arm around her and nodded.

- "Yes, she does… wanna help with my warm-up?"

That was the most random question Iero could come up with that second, but it didn’t matter, ‘cos Joey smiled and quickly said yes, escaping from Gerard’s presence. But not from his eyes that followed her through the room. He wasn’t worried anyone could see how much he loved her, ‘cos he didn’t want to hide it anymore. Not until Lynz was there, at least. But that was a problem he would face when the right time came, in a week or so.

- "What can I help you with, Jersey?"- Joey asked as Frank grabbed a few kettlebells and started making bicep curls.

- "Absolutely nothing, you just looked like you wanted to get the fuck away from him, and I decided to rescue you"- the young woman wanted to deny it all, but at that point, she was just so glad Frank had taken her away from Gerard, she just nodded and smiled.

- "You are such a smart guy"

- "You are gonna make me blush…"

- "Can I use one?"- she casually asked, pointing out the kettlebell.

- "Definitely not! You’re not lifting any weight until we talk with your doctor"- Joey rolled her eyes and shook her eyes.

- "We already did that. I am ok to work out… I just can’t… run and… carry heavyweights"- Frank raised an eyebrow, and she smiled guilty- "Sorry, I just love lifting weights."

- "Have your baby first, then we care gonna train like we are fucking CrossFit athletes"- the soon-to-be mother chuckled and reached out her hand to her friend.

- "Jersey, we’ve got a date."

The crowd was running anxious, and so was Matthew. He had stayed put on his spot in the first row, right in front of the drumset like his life depended on it, no matter how much kids would try to push him away.

- “This is gonna work, this is gonna work, this is gonna work,”- he kept repeating in his head as he felt the weight of two thousand people pushing him against the security fence.

The crowd started yelling louder and jumping as the band appeared on stage. And along with them came his girl.

His breath was caught in his throat as he looked at her walking to the drum, a huge smile lodged on her lips. She looked so happy, happy like she had always looked when playing. There was nothing Joey loved more than her job. She had fought so much to get there, Matthew could barely get a glimpse of how good she felt playing as a professional drummer.

Looking at her sitting behind the drum in a My Chemical Romance concert, with that sweet and happy grin on her face, made him fall a thousand times harder in love with her. He felt proud of her and jealous of all the people who had been able to see her glowing in joy in the latest months when he had been away from her.

- “You fucked it up! Now fix it!”

Gubler never noticed the countdown of the music had started, and all the kids were yelling every word in “Look Alive Sunshine” until Gerard’s voice took him from his thoughts. Joey started playing, and the singer yelled.

- Oakland!! Make some noise!!- and the show started.

The whole crowd jumped, and Matthew jumped along with them, his eyes locked in Joey, who was lost in her drum. He smiled, watching how her lips now moved along with the song, murmuring the lyrics. Of course, she had toured with them long enough to learn all the lyrics of each song. She would probably deny it but sing them in the shower when she knew no one was listening.

The first one who spotted Matthew was Mikey. He frowned as he looked at Gubler standing in the first row, not getting what the fuck was going on. But Matthew never cared -he hadn’t actually considered- the fact the band could spot him in the audience. There was no one else on that stage but Joey for him, and that’s why she was the only person he had eyes for.

As soon as “Na Na Na” ended, Mikey walked to Frank. The intro of “Mama” started, so the bassist talked as fast as possible.

- "Dude, Gubler is here"- Iero looked at him frowning- "The first row, staring at Joey"- Frank looked over and saw him. He hadn’t seen him ever since New Year, and if there was one thing the Jersey boy was dying to do was to break Matthew’s face so hard no one would ever recognize him again.

- "Mother fucker"- he said and didn’t take his eyes from the actor- "I’m gonna kill him!"

But at the moment, he didn’t have the chance, ‘cos he had to play a show. But for a second, he and Mikey shared a look and turned to Joey. She was playing, eyes shut, smiling. They knew she still had no idea what was going on. And that was ok for them.

It wasn’t long until Gerard found the actor. It wasn’t hard to see him ‘cos he was the tallest guy in the front row and the only one who wasn’t looking at him. Matthew was the guy who stood still, hypnotized with each movement of the drummer, drooling over her like a kid staring at his first love. Gerard felt how his whole body shook in anger. Even his hands shook with a deep desire to kill him. Right there, in front of everybody. But he couldn’t. He had to keep on singing, keep on playing. Keep on pretending everything was ok, not just for the show and the kids, but for Joey too. He kept wishing she hadn’t seen him yet. Maybe she could never see him.

But the singer needed to let Gubler know he was fucked. And so he stood right in front of him, at the very edge of the stage, and managed it to catch his eyes. Both of them looking at each other in such deep hate, it was obvious the pair knew they despised each other. Gerard didn’t think about it twice. He had the higher ground. It would be a shame not to take advantage. And so, he spit on Matthew, and an evil smirked lodged on him as he saw him cleaning his face in anger. That was a little piece of sweet, sweet revenge. But it still wasn’t enough to make the actor pay for everything he had put Joey through.

Ray widened his eyes when he spotted Matthew, just the second Gerard spitted on him. He saw the whole moment in action and knew it was gonna be hell after the show. What was Gubler doing there? Trying to get Joey back. Ray knew that moment was gonna come, eventually. Toro knew how much Matthew loved her. It was crystal clear for everybody to see.

Ray was the only one who could keep a cold head to analyze the whole picture, and that’s why he always tried to remind his friends Joey and Matthew weren’t a subject they could decide on. It wasn’t something related to them at all, though they were friends with her. They were their own thing, a thing they could merely watch but never ever control. It was clear neither of his friends had listened, and so Toro sighed. He was going to have to stop a big fight after that concert.

- "The next song"- Gerard said after “House of Wolves” was over. It was Joey’s favorite song, and they played it as often as possible- "It’s about being a kid, about you being a kid, about me being a kid, about us being a kid, about you having a kid"- Joey raised her eyes from the drums and looked straight into Gerard’s eyes. That’s when she heard him.

- "Yami!!"- it was Matthew’s voice, but it couldn’t be. Joey frowned and looked around.

- "Yami!!"- he yelled and raised the banner. Frank, Mikey, and Gerard looked at him in the most honest and pure hate anyone could have ever seen from them. Ray tried to concentrate on Joey. She was the one he cared about at that second. And when he saw the puzzled expression on her face as she looked at him, asking what was going on, Ray couldn’t control himself and pointed at the actor.

Joey’s heart stopped. It was Matthew, it was really him, standing there, on the first row of the concert, staring at her with the biggest smile anyone had ever had around her in her life. And he was holding a banner that read, “The distance is nothing when one has a motive.” She couldn’t move. She didn’t know what to do. He just smiled at her and mouthed, “I love you.”

- "Bug!! Bug, are you ok?"- Mikey waved in front of the drum and looked worried at the girl. She just nodded at him and then at Frankie, who stood next to the bassist.

- "Yeah, I’m ok"- she smiled and started counting. It was time to play “Kids from yesterday.”

Everybody loved that song, and she wasn’t going to fuck it up, not even if her eyes and mind were stuck looking at Matthew in front of her, as he kept smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as she played.

Gerard stared at the scene, and it felt he was gonna make a tantrum in the middle of the stage. Joey was staring at Matthew, and her whole face had lit up, even if she didn’t want to. And just like a little child, Gerard made sure to stand right between the two of them to stop them from looking at each other. And like if they could all build a fortress, Frank and Mikey stood around the drumset, protecting Joey, trying to make sure Matthew knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere near her, over their dead bodies.

Matthew didn’t give a damn. He just wanted to look at her. He just wanted her to know she was the most important person in his life and that he was willing to drop anything and everything just to be near her.

The song was ending. Joey kept playing drums, her eyes glued to Matthew’s, until Mikey stared at her, counting the beat at the song’s end. She nodded at her friend and kept playing, both of them, the two of them, to finish the song together, just like they had done for over five months now, in perfect timing. Joey loved that part, and he knew it, ‘cos it was the only part of the show they had a little solo. Mikey was happy Matthew didn’t take that moment from them. At least he felt Joey was still in the zone, playing and being present at the show and not lost in thoughts.

Joey was lost in thoughts, she was making her best to play a good show. But Matthew’s appearance had moved the ground underneath her feet. It had been the biggest and warmest surprised she had had in a long time.

“I’m not ok” set the mood for the rest of the concert. No one on that stage was ok. But Gerard was the one affected the most. He would sing, giving his back to the audience and looking at Joey as often as possible. He knew that was going to drive Matthew insane, but it also helped him stay focused.

His eyes locked in Joey’s face tried to read her. She looked… happier. And that hurt, ‘cos though Gerard knew she didn’t love him back, it didn’t help to know he was still in her heart. It was so obvious she was in love with him even a blind man would see it. Even Joey would try to keep her eyes shut or look away, she would always end up looking at Matthew, and Gerard could swear a smile lodged on her lips each time she saw the actor. It made him want to punch a wall, or Gubler’s face, whatever came first.

- "Give me all your fucking money!!"- Gerard yelled and ran to the drum set as Joey started playing “Vampire Money” with a huge smile- "Are you ready, Ray!!"

- "Yeah!"

- "How about you, Sugar?"

- "Yeah!!"

- "How about you, Frank?"

- "Fuck you, Gubler!"- he answered, and Joey turned to him in shock, though Iero looked at her with the cutest and most adorable smile on earth.

- "How about you, Mikey?"- Gee yelled

- "Fucking ready!"

- "I think I’m alright."

Gerard would always call Joey “Bug” when he addressed her in that part of the show. It was the only moment of the day he could call her by a nickname, and “Bug” was her official band nickname. But that day, Way wanted to make a difference. He wanted to make it sound a little more personal than it was in real life. “Sugar” fit perfectly, and in his mind, Gerard would always call her Sugar.

Somehow, being so angry brought a different energy to the band while playing. They were mad into it. Gerard sang as his life depended on it, while Mikey wouldn’t stop moving, and looking in the most threatening way possible at Gubler, every once in a while. Frank would jump and yell and shout, playing his guitar with the energy of a caffeinated hyper ten years old. Matthew never even saw them. He couldn’t care less. All there was for him on that stage was Joey behind the drum, looking at him with the corner of her eye every couple of minutes.

She didn’t know what to think or what to feel. She was in shock. What was Matthew doing there? What was he going to do next? What was he planning? Joey needed to run away from that stage and hide under a gigantic pillow ‘cos she had no idea how to face what was going on, though, at the same time, she was dying to run to Matthew and hug him. She just felt so good to know he had followed her to see her one more time. She felt special like he always made her feel.

Gerard started singing Cancer, and Joey turned to one side of the stage. Jamia looked at her, literally waving. She could perfectly read her lips, “What the fuck?” and the drummer could only shrug.

- "Hey"- Mikey appeared in front of the drummer and cut him a quick, shy smile- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah, just surprised."

- "You knew?"

- "I had no idea"- he nodded and looked around

- "Just a few more songs, then we can go hide and eat a pretty good dinner"- Joey smiled at him and watched him walk back to his side of the stage.

But Joey didn’t want to hide in her room and eat dinner with Mikey. Though she refused to admit it, all she wanted to do was to stand in front of Matthew and feel his eyes fondling her skin as he talked to her, just like he was doing at that moment, from a distance. She could feel his eyes running up and down her skin, though she didn’t look at him.

Jamia nearly jumped on Joey as soon as the girl reached backstage. The babies were miraculously sound asleep. No one got how, considering a huge rock concert had been happening that whole time a few meters away from them.

- "Oh my god, what the fuck??!"- Jamia made her best to whisper/scream to not wake the babies, but to make Joey wide open her eyes and frown.

- "I swear I have no idea!!"

- "He is adorable!!"

- "He is a cheater Jamia"- Frank interrupted his wife and took off his shirt, frowning- "And you shouldn’t be that excited. He is just trying to win her over."

- "He is being romantic, Frank"- Jamia corrected him and looked at Joey again- "What are you gonna do?"

- "I don’t know"

- "Call him!!"

Jamia was the closest to a best friend from high school Joey had ever had. Sure, back in the days, she had Tabatha, but her friend had her share of social life, and Joey was always shut down to any kind of social interaction. Now Jamia was talking about boys and telling her to call one. If that was high school talk, Joey had no idea what it was.

But before she could actually make a decision, her phone rang in her backpack, and J widened her eyes in excitement.

- "I swear to God, Jamia! you are just acting like this ‘cos you think he is hot!"- Frank turned around to see his wife, clearly annoyed, as Joey grabbed her phone and held it tight in her hands, not knowing what to do.

- "I’m just being honest with my friend. He is being cute and asking for a second chance. Coming unannounced to a concert with a cute banner is the sweetest thing I’ve seen a guy doing for love!"- Jamia stopped talking, and Joey’s cell stopped ringing. She looked at it feeling disappointed, until a second later, it started ringing again.

- "For Christ’s sake! Answer!"- Jamia sounded annoyed, and Joey did as told, not really thinking about her own actions. She just… deep down wanted to do it.

- "Hello?"

- "Hey..."- Matthew stood still in the middle of the arena, waiting for the kids to leave the place, he was anxious to know what Joey thought of what he had done, and though he had thought about waiting for a while to call her, he just couldn’t control himself.

- "What was that?"- Joey asked, blushing, as she locked herself in the bathroom.

- "That was me dying to see you, traveling to Oakland to be with you, even from a distance"

- "Why did you do that?"- Joey managed to ask, feeling she was nearly mumbling each word.

- "‘Cos I love you, ‘cos I miss you…"

Neither of them was able to say another word. Matthew was nervous and didn’t know how Joey managed the whole situation, though her voice sounded peaceful and calm. That should be a good sign.

- "You shouldn’t have…"- she whispered and felt her heart was about burst inside her chest

- "Do you wanna come out for a minute and talk?"- she wanted to, so badly, but it scared her to think what would happen if Frank, or even Gerard, got near Gubler.

- "Where are you?"

- "Still here"

- "You haven’t moved?"

- "Nop"- Matthew smiled and looked around- "I don’t know if they are planning to kick me out though"

- "Give me five minutes, I’ll change into something dry, and I’ll be right there."

Gerard Way was in hell. Literally burning alive as he watched Joey walking out of the bathroom in a fresh shirt and combed hair made a ponytail. She had even fixed her makeup.

- “God! She even got pretty for him!! What the fuck?! How can she be so eager to forgive him?!”- his eyes could burn holes in the wall as he did his best to look away from Joey.

- "Hey Bug, what are you gonna do?"- Mikey asked her as he stood next to her and held her hands. Gerard hated that too. He had managed to decode each movement from his brother around Joey like he was her couple. Lynz’s words had really fucked up with his brain. And if he was jealous of Mikey before, now it was turning into something worse.

- "I’m gonna go talk to him"

- "Are you sure that’s a good idea?"- Mikey looked worried, but Joey smiled at him and held his hand tighter.

- "Yeah, don’t worry, I’m gonna be ok."

- "If he does anything to you, I’m gonna break his fucking face"- Frank added from the other side of the room, already in a clean shirt and now holding one of the babies in his arms. For someone who sounded so threatening, he surely didn’t look the part.

- "It’s ok kids, let Joey take her own decisions, ok?"- Ray finally spoke up and sighed- "She knows we are here for her no matter what, but she has to do what her heart tells her to do."

- "Thank you, dad, but don’t think for a minute I’m gonna forgive him"

- "Even if you do, Bug. You will always count on me"- the guitarist walked to her and kissed her temple.

- "Best dad ever"- she whispered and opened the door.

Matthew felt his heart stop in his chest when he saw her walking over to him. He did the only thing that came to his mind and raised the banner he still held in his hands, so she could find him. It wasn’t hard to see him. There weren’t many people left at the arena, mostly just the crew setting everything to go.

- "Hey"- Joey said and waved as she walked to him and stood right in front of him. Just like she had imagined, she could feel the warmth of her eyes traveling down her face as he stared at her in pure bliss and love.

- "Hey"- he replied and smiled. He didn’t really want to talk. He didn’t know what to say. All he could think of was to kiss her and hold her tight.

- "What are you doing here, Matthew?"- she finally asked and crossed her arms on her chest to remind herself she couldn’t feel anything but anger against him and that she shouldn’t be so happy to see him. Or worse, she shouldn’t be showing him how happy she was to see him.

- "I just wanted you to know how much I love you"

- "By traveling to San Francisco to see a show?"

- "With a handmade banner"- he added and smiled.

- “That damn fucking adorable smile is gonna be the end of me,”- Joey sighed, thinking what to say next, making her best to stay calmed and not drooling over him.

- "That was a good touch."

- "Thanks, just like Lizzy, I would walk any distance just to be with you ‘cos you are my whole purpose."

Joey nodded, melting inside, as she made her best to stay cold and look indifferent. She didn’t know if it was working, but she wanted to believe so.

- "I’m not gonna forgive you just 'cos you showed up unannounced to a show"- that was all that came to her mind, it wasn’t the most intelligent answer, but it was all she had.

- "I wasn’t expecting you to forgive me today"- he simply replied and shrugged. There was a weird mix of security and happiness around his whole attitude Joey couldn’t wrap her mind around.

- "Good"- that was the whole answer she could give him, furrowing her brows. Matthew stared at her in silence for a second and took a step forward, closing the gap between them a little.

- "It was an amazing show, by the way"- he said and smiled. Joey’s knees shook as a response.

- "Thanks"- she whispered and looked down

- "How’s the little bean?"

- "Good… floating, I guess. I’ve felt pretty good today."

- "That’s great"- the two of them nodded at the same time and stayed quiet- "Remember to play the tracks I made for the bean."

- "Yeah, I will tonight."

- "They are just for the baby, so no peeking, ok?"- Matthew’s voice felt velvety as he talked close to Joey. She managed to raise her eyes from the ground, and Gubler swore his heart could be heard from any corner of that arena as it beat harder just to feel her looking at him.

- "I’ll put the headphones on the belly, so it will be the first secret you can share with your baby"- she smiled at the end of her answer, and Matthew held his breath.

- "That’s the cutest thing I could think of"- he mumbled, and the two of them stared in silence, sharing a moment that was a mix between love and angst.

Joey was still fighting to get away from him and stay mad at him. She had to play over and over again, like an old movie, the pictures she saw of Matthew cheating, just to keep herself from wrapping her arms around his neck.

- "Does she look in pain to you?!"- Jamia pushed Frank back as he kept trying to walk towards Joey and Matthew and drag her away from him.

- "She is gonna cry! He is gonna make her cry!"

- "Frank! This is not your war! Look at them and tell me they are not in love! If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts above their heads!"- Jamia was right, but Frank didn’t want to listen.

- "Hey!! Asshole!!"- Frank yelled, and Joey turned to him, frowning- "Stay the fuck away from her!!"

- "Oh shit!"- the words sneaked through her lips as Matthew looked at Frank and didn’t find anything better to do but to wave, infuriating Iero even more- "You know he wants to kill you, right?"

- "I am aware… the way they all looked at me made it pretty clear during the show, Gerard actually spit on my face."

The way Matthew said, it didn’t sound like it was a big deal. But it was, and Joey’s eyes were wide open as soon as she heard him.

- "He did what??!"- and she shouted- "Who the fuck does he think he is??!"

The young woman’s face was red in anger, and she quickly turned around and headed to the backstage area. But Matthew stopped her, grabbing her hand quickly.

- "Hey! Hey! Calm down, it’s ok! I don’t care!"

- "But I care!! This has nothing to do with him! He is not even my friend!! What the fuck does he think he is doing?!"

Unfortunately, the scene didn’t really look good from a distance, and Frank watching them, not getting what they were talking about, could only see his friend trying to get rid of Matthew and him not letting her go.

- "Take your hands off her!!"- Frank shouted and ran over, Jamia following close behind- "I said let go!!"- he pushed Matthew and put an arm in front of Joey, trying to keep her back.

- "What the fuck, dude?"- Joey shouted.

- "I don’t want him to hurt you, Bug!"

- "I’m not hurting her!!"- Matthew frowned, feeling insulted- "Why would I hurt the mother of my baby?!"

- "He ain’t hurting me!!"- Joey supported him, ‘cos Frank actually ignored Gubler’s words

- "Doesn’t look like he is being pretty nice either!!"

- "Frank! Stop it! Joey says nothing is going on!"- Jamia held Frank’s arm as Matthew tried to cool down the mood.

- "Hey! Nothing is going on"- Gubler used the calmest voice he could to talk to Iero- "I understand you wanna protect Joey from me ‘cos I was an asshole and fucked it up, but I am not gonna hurt her!! Ok?"

- "What fuck do you know! You broke her, and I am not gonna let you near her again!"- and just like the day Mikey had told him the same, Matthew’s heart tightened in his chest, listening to Frank yelling how badly he had hurt the woman he loved.

- "I can take care of myself!!"- Joey shouted- "So stop it! Now let me go kill that mother fucker!!"- the drummer turned around and started jogging to the dressing room. But Matthew followed her quickly and grabbed her hand again.

- "Please don’t! Joey, I don’t care! He can do whatever he wants to do. That ain’t gonna stop me!"

- "You don’t get it! I hate the guy! And the fact he thinks he can come and spit on your face like he is the fucking king of the world, or that he can avenge my sorrow, it’s wrong!!"- Joey pushed and let go of Matthew’s grip and continued her way until she opened the door and found Gerard, Mikey, and Ray playing with the twins.

- "Hey Bug"- Mikey turned and smiled, but Joey ignored him, ‘cos her eyes were locked on Gerard’s, staring at him with pure hate.

- "What the fuck is your problem, kúkalabbi (scumbag)?"- she spit every word with contempt- "You fucking think you can come and do whatever you want ‘cos you are the fucking lead singer of a band?"

Gerard frowned, though he had a hint of what might have happened.

- "I don’t care what the fuck came through your mind at the moment! You can’t spit on someone’s face! You can’t spit on Matthew’s face!"

Mikey wide opened his eyes as soon as he heard those words. Even for him, that was a little too much.

- "Joey, I think I can…"- Gerard tried to explain.

- "Haltu kjafti! (shut up!) No, you can’t!"- but Joey shut him up in a second- "This is my problem, my battle, and my fucking business!! You have no right in trying to avenge me! None!"

- "He fucking cheated on you, and you are mad at me?!"- he frowned, surprised, not getting what was going on.

- "Yes! I am mad at you! You are not even my friend, and you were doing shit I never asked you or wished for you to do!"

- "If I want to spit on his face, I can fucking do it!"- Gerard shouted back- "I hate the fucking bastard!"

- "So I can spit on yours then!!"- and Joey was about to do it when Matthew rushed and covered her mouth.

- "No! No! No!"- he held her tight, but sweetly- "Calm down! please! Calm down!"

- "What the fuck are you doing here?!"- and Gerard freaked out at the sight of Gubler- "Get the fuck out!"

- "I will be gone as soon as Joey asks me to leave"- Matthew simply answered and looked into Gerard’s eyes with the same hate yet calm he had the last time he saw Way at Mikey’s New Year’s eve party.

- "Who the fuck do you think you are?! Get out before I kick you out!"- at that point, Jamia and Frank were in the room as well. Jamia had an eye put on her babies, playing in their cart, while holding Frank back to keep him from getting into that fight.

- "Stop it!"- Joey managed to move from Matthew’s grip and looked into Gerad’s eyes in a fury- "I hate you!"

She didn’t yell, but her words were a dagger and cold as ice. The honesty was evident. Maybe now Gerard was going to understand he had to step back. She looked at him in the eyes for a second, then grabbed her things and stormed out, followed closely by Matthew.

- "What the fuck?"- Mikey asked to break the awkward silence that hung in the room after Joey had stormed out.

- "I spit on his face today, when I saw him there, looking at her with his stupid fucking puppy eyes, I just… lost it and spit on him- Gerard murmured, and his voice broke.

She hated him. She meant it. How was he going to win her back if she hated him? Jamia’s jaw fell as soon as she heard him. One thing was hating the guy, even trying to punch him, but spitting on someone’s face, that was… well, it seemed offensive and degrading. It was over the top.

- "Not that I wouldn’t think about doing something like it, but…"- Frank started, but Jamia’s eyes stopped him

- "That was out of line, Gerard"- Ray said with a calm, though stern tone of voice- "I told you all, the only thing you are gonna accomplish by acting like a bunch of possessive friends is to push her away. If you all call yourself her friends, you can’t fucking do this shit!"

It felt like Ray was scolding his kids. Mikey wanted to argue, but it was true, just like the day he had hit Matthew in Joey’s house, and she had freaked out and gotten mad at him.

- "I would do it again if I could"- Gerard whispered and sat down, fighting the urges of smoking a cigarette.

- "That’s why you ain’t her friend"- Ray added, and the look coming from Way’s eyes let him know he wasn’t happy with the reply- "Her words, not mine."

Matthew followed Joey on her way out of the arena. The cold air hit her skin and made her shiver as they stood foot outside the building.

- "Here"- he quickly took his hoodie off and gave it to her. She didn’t argue. She was too mad to argue about anything else. She was also too mad to talk about it. She just wanted to walk away from everything. Walk and ease her mind.

- "Excuse me, Joey?"- a girl walked over with a huge smile and forced her to take her eyes from the ground- "Can I have your autograph, please?"- Matthew wide opened his eyes in amazement. Joey quickly smiled and grabbed a sharpie from her bag. She signed the girl’s ticket to the show and smiled for a selfie with her.

- "Wow"- Matthew chuckled as the girl was gone- "That was…"

- "Weird, I know"

- "That was amazing! Kids are reacting to your work! Kids are looking at you and being excited about what you do! I am so fucking proud!"- he didn’t really stop himself to think. He just wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

- "Thanks"- she whispered and felt how her cheeks turned pink- It’s still pretty weird. It’s not something that happens all the time, but…

- "It’s impressive, Joey!"- Matthew nearly yelled- "I mean it, sometimes it shocks me how cooler and greater you can be!"

He sounded honest. He sounded proud. Joey’s heartbeat in joy with those words but didn’t say a word. She was thankful it was night, and the street lights weren’t illuminating his face properly, or he would be able to see how blushed and nervous she was.

- "Don’t overreact"- she murmured and kept on walking in silence. Matthew sighed and walked with her, stuffing his hands in his pocket to stop himself from trying to hold her hand.

- "Are you hungry?"- he asked after a while

- "No"

- "When was your last meal?"

- "An apple and a fun size Snicker before the show"

- "Mikey keeps controlling your candies?"

- "Yes… but Jamia is a horrible influence"- Joey chuckled at the thought of the two of them that afternoon acting like kids- "She gives me Oreos"

- "That’s drugs!"- Matthew acted shocked- You shouldn’t!

- "I know! But they are so good!"- the drummer smiled. Talking about anything was better than addressing the pink elephant in the room.

- "And how’s Jamia?"

- "Great, she is baby training me with the twins."

- "That’s very nice of her"

- "Yeah, and the babies are the sweetest…"- Joey made a pause and sighed- "She is the only rooting for you."

- "I knew I liked her for a reason."

- "Frank keeps saying it’s because she has the hots for you."

- "She doesn’t"

- "She totally does"- and the young woman laughed at her own words. Matthew only smiled widely to hear her happy for a moment- "I was actually considering selling Frank a picture of you in underwear for her birthday."

- "Double the price, and we go halfsies"- Gubler answered and chuckled- "I can even pose like a french model."

- "Deal"- there was a silence between them that lasted a few minutes. Gubler didn’t know what to say, and Joey didn’t know either.

- "Are you sure you are not hungry?"- he asked, just to ask anything

- "Do you think I overreacted back there?"- she just spit it. She was scared she had exaggerated the whole deal, and now the guys were going to fire her. Gerard could. He definitely should after how she acted with him. He was, after all, the closest thing she had to a boss. They were all the people she worked for, not with.

- "No, Joey, you didn’t… I mean… I really don’t care how he acts with me ‘cos I know he is a mother fucker asshole in love with you."

Joey’s heart froze at those words. She widened her eyes and looked at Matthew. She had almost forgotten he had always said that about Gerard. And he was absolutely right.

- "I know it’s true. I don’t care what he says, he is crystal clear, but that’s not the point."

- "The point is, I totally yelled at him in front of everybody, told him I hated him and stormed out the room like a brat after I tried to spit on his face… thank you for stopping me, by the way."

- "You are very welcome"- Matthew sighed and looked at his hand- "You totally spit on me, though"- he joked and cleaned his hand on Joey’s sleeve.

- "Gross!!"- she argued and chuckled- "This is your hoodie, by the way"

- "Damn it!"- the two of them smiled and just walked around.

- "Maybe I could eat some pizza"- Joey whispered and pointed to a little restaurant in the next corner

- "Pizza it is."

Mikey looked at his clock as he stared at the ceiling in his room. It was eleven-thirty, no news from Joey. He was worried but didn’t want to call her, ‘cos after hearing Ray talking, he didn’t want to push her away. He didn’t want to make her feel like he was mad at her. He was just worried. Worried as fuck. Feared to lose her, to see her sad again. Worried she might leave forever.

A knock on the door made him jump from his bed and run to the answer. It was Gerard. He looked like shit. Mikey left the door open and let him in, walking back to his bed.

- "How are you?"- his question was pretty stupid considering Gerard’s puffy eyes.

- "I fucked it up, right?"

- "Yeah… but in your defense…"- Mikey stayed quiet and thought about his words- "Well…"

- "I know, it wasn’t the way to deal with him"

- "It definitely wasn’t… but I don’t think it was so bad on its own. I think when you mix this with all the stupid shit you’ve done to Joey."

- "I haven’t done anything"

- "But keep harassing her and telling her that you love her"- Gerard groaned, annoyed, and laid back on the bed, hiding his face under his hands.

- "But I love her"

- "Dude! You are mad if you think this shit is gonna work. She clearly loves him. I’m starting to think she is gonna forgive him though I don’t want her to. And you are fucking married. There is no way you can get anything with her."

- "But maybe..."

- "She doesn’t love you, Gerard!"- Mikey shouted- "She doesn’t! You never stood a chance! And now she hates you! You can’t even be her friend. After today, you can’t even fucking try! You dig your own grave!"

Gerard heard his younger brother’s words. He wasn’t even sugarcoating it. Maybe that way, Gee would understand. Maybe he was doing it ‘cos he loved him. Mikey was being tuff ‘cos he was also pretty tired of his brother’s attitude. Gerard wasn’t being rational. He was acting like an animal, with no clear thoughts, just based on his instincts.

- "And what do I do now?"- Way whispered, and Mikey sighed.

- "Start with apologizing and pray she doesn’t want to leave the band"- the singer wide opened his eyes. He hadn’t thought about that, but it was a serious chance. Maybe he had pushed her too far.

- "Do you think she can quit?"

- "I don’t know what can happen. She isn’t the kind of girl who can take these kinds of things very easily"

- "If she can forgive Matthew, she can forgive me"- Gerard thought out loud

- "She loves him, she hates you, you do the math."

- "But we are in the middle of a tour. She can’t leave like that."

- "I think the same, but it all depends on her."

- "What does Ray think of this?"

- "I haven’t talked to him"- Gerard grabbed his phone and dialed Toro’s number.

Ray frowned as he stared at the brothers. Mikey was lying on the bed, looking at his phone, waiting for a call or a text from Joey. Gerard was walking in circles in the room, rambling about making Joey stay in the band.

- "If she wants to leave, she can leave"- Toro said when there was finally silence in the room. Both Ways looked at him, shocked, but Ray just smiled- "Hey! It’s her fucking decision! Not ours!"

- "Do you want her to leave?!"- Mikey nearly yelled

- "No way! I love her in the band! I’m just saying if she decides something, we should respect her."

- "You keep saying the same shit! And you are not considering the fact she could make a mistake"- Gerard frowned and kept walking in circles.

- "Come on! She ain’t a baby! And she ain’t yours to take care of! She can manage herself pretty well, so stop it! You just don’t want her to leave, I can understand that! but just stop giving her reasons to do it!"- Ray didn’t know if Mikey was aware of how fuck up his brother was. And Mikey didn’t know if Ray knew Gerard had given her plenty of reasons to leave already.

- "She is not even here yet!"- Gerard was thinking to himself, but his friends could listen to him clearly- "I bet she already forgave him."

- "Still not your problem!"- Ray added, frustrated.

- "I love her! How can’t it be my problem!"- it felt so good to take it out of his chest, but Ray’s shocked face made Gerard realize he had said too much- "I mean, she is my friend, and…"

- "Oh come on!"- Mikey argued, sick of listening to his brother talking about his feelings- "You are in love with her, and it’s sick! Deal with it!"

- "And it’s not like you are making it hard to guess anyway"- Toro added- "Frank has been arguing you have feelings for her for months now."

- "And you told her your “feelings,” and she rejected you!"- Mikey said, making Ray insanely curious. He needed to know the details of that story.

- "What I feel is not your fucking business"- Gerard said defensibly.

- "It is if you are making this kind of show! Your wife will be here in a few days, so get your shit together and be professional for once!"- Ray argued and sighed- "I’m going to bed now, please try to leave that woman make her own desitions and her own life, and just focus on being good friends"- he said and waved- "And don’t fuck it up!"

The night was cold. The wind played with Joey’s hair as she stood outside her hotel, biting her lips, holding her backpack tight, and making her best not to look Matthew in the eyes as he stood in front of her, smiling. It all gave her the first date vibes. Like they hadn’t been down that path already.

- "Well… I better go. I’ve got another flight tomorrow"- she whispered, and he nodded.

- "Yes, you have to rest, you just played a kickass show"- he answered and smiled- "And our little bean must be exhausted with all the walking we just did."

- "Little bean is floating carelessly inside my tummy, making me crave for a brownie"- Matthew chuckled and opened his backpack.

- "I just have cashews"- and he handed her a paper bag. She couldn’t help but smile at him as she grabbed it and opened it in a second.

- "Your addiction coming in handy"- he chuckled and nodded.

- "I’ve got more if you want"- Matthew started looking in his backpack, but Joey stopped him.

- " Thanks, but these are enough for today"- they stayed in silence for a second, Joey staring at the bag, Matthew staring at her, caressing her skin with his eyes, looking at her eyes, her lips, her hair- "Are you going back home tomorrow?"- she asked and still didn’t dare to look at him in the eyes.

- "Not yet"- he whispered and bit his lips, wishing she wouldn’t ask him if he was going to keep on following her. A part of him wanted to keep it a secret surprise for one more show, at least. And a huge part of her was too scared to ask if she was going to see him at another show.

- "Well… take care"- she said and finally managed to stare into his eyes. It was a mistake, considering how badly she wanted to kiss him and how much she had to argue to herself to avoid doing it. And he was looking at her in adoration, with such love she felt she could melt like an ice cube under the July sun.

- "Remember to play the bean my tracks"- he said, and she nodded.

- "I surely will"

- "I don’t want the bean to forget about me."

- "That won’t happen, I promise"- they just stared in silence for a moment, Matthew almost leaning over to kiss her- "Ok, bye"- Joey waved and turned around.

- "Wait!"- Gubler held her hand and stopped her. He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her. She stood still, not moving an inch, as his warmth filled her skin under her clothes, and his lips pressed a kiss on the top of her head- "Take care"

- "You too"- she mumbled, words having trouble to leave her lips ‘cos his closeness was killing her- "Wait, I still I’ve got your hoodie"- she tried to move away from him to take it out, but Matthew looked at her and shook his head.

- "Keep it… please"- Joey had left all of Matthew’s clothing back in her apartment, ‘cos she didn’t want to carry anything that reminded her of him for the next month. Having his hoodie was against her own rules. Then why did it make her feel so happy?

- "Thanks"- she moved apart from him and watched his smile for one last time- "Good night Matthew Gray"- her words were a whisper that made him shiver. He loved the way his name sounded like coming from her lips.

- "Good night María Josefina."

The actor waited until Joey was out of her sight to walk away from the hotel. He headed it to his hotel, a few blocks away. Ignoring the whole problem with Gerard, he thought things had been pretty good after all. He really didn’t care about Way at all. He knew he would give him a hard time. He just didn’t want him to make Joey feel bad. Joey was all that mattered to him. Mikey and Frank could threaten to hit him, even fulfill their threats. He didn’t care. He even agreed with them. He deserved to pay. But Gerard? No, he didn’t have any right to get into that fight. Gerard was an asshole who needed to stay away from Joey. He was the one Matthew hated.

- “I don’t think I had ever hated someone as bad as I hate that son of a bitch”- but that didn’t matter at the moment, now Matthew had a bigger issue to tackle: Which was going to be the phrase in the banner he had to make for tomorrow’s show?.

There was a knock on Mikey’s door, minutes after Gerard had left. He groaned and walked to answer, to find Joey standing at the other side, with a shy smile on her lips, almost a sheepish look.

- "Are you mad at me?"- she whispered right away, and he opened his arms to hug her.

- "Never."

- "You swear? ‘cos I yelled at your brother I hate him in front of the whole band and tried to spit on his face"

- "He was out of place, and he deserved it"- Mikey whispered and kissed the top of her head. His touch felt so different from Matthew’s a few minutes ago. It almost made Joey feel guilty that her friend had kissed her head after the man she loved had done the same. Almost like she was cheating.

- "And are you mad Matthew was there?"- Mikey let her go and invited her in.

- "Are you ok with him being there?"

Joey stayed in silence, walking into the room, standing next to the bed instead of sitting down. She looked down at her hands and didn’t say anything. Ray’s words were starting to make sense to Mikey as he looked at her and thought she was going to start drifting away from him if he continued being an ass.

- "Bug, it’s ok. I am not gonna get mad at you… if you love him, if you want to be with him, I’m still gonna be your friend."

- "I just don’t know what I want"- she whispered and scratched her eyes, feeling tired and sleepy

- "Anything you want to talk about, I am here, and I swear I’m gonna be the best friend in the world, and I am not gonna judge you, I am not gonna freak out, and more than anything, I am just going to worry about your happiness, ok?"- Joey pouted at her friend and wrapped her arms around him.

- "I just don’t want you to be mad at me ‘cos you are my best friend."

- "I will never get mad at you Bug, you are my little sister, and I love you. I just want to take care of you."

- "I don’t like it when people try to take care of me. I know what I’m doing."

- "I know…"

- "But I’m gonna let it slide with you ‘cos you are my brother"- she said and chuckled against his shirt. Mikey kissed the top of her head again, and she chuckled- "Just don’t push me."

- "I won’t…"- Mikey chuckled and moved to look at her- "We are cheesy, though"

- "So fucking cheesy!!"- Joey chuckled and sighed, relieved- "Ok, now that I took that from my chest, I need to go to bed. I am so fucking tired."

- "Did you eat?"

- "Yeah, Gubler bought dinner"

- "And he also gave you his clothes apparently"- Mikey pointed her hoodie and noticed she blushed.

- "Yeah… I’ll still steal yours, you know"- he smiled and messed with her hair.

- "I’m counting on it. I actually had them washed"

- "Thank you so fucking much!!"

Mikey felt a little better after Joey left. She was worried he was mad at her when he was concerned about the same. She didn’t say a word about leaving the band. That was even better. And she didn’t look sad after being with Matthew. That was enough to let him sleep calmly that night.

Joey was weary. She kicked off her shoes and laid on the bed, closing her eyes. Matthew’s smell surrounding her made her smile and sigh. Yes, he had been romantic. Yes, she had butterflies in her stomach. Yes, she loved him. None of that took away the fact he was a cheater, but he was trying to make amends. That was undeniable. How much was he willing to try? And how much was enough for her to forgive her? Neither of that she knew, but it didn’t matter at the moment. For a few seconds, Joey allowed herself to be in love.

Before she drifted off in her sleep, she remembered Matthew asked her to play the songs he had put on the iPod for their baby. She didn’t want to move from that bed, but she was way too curious to know what was in it.

- "Hey Bean, we are gonna tell your dad you are the only one who listened to it, but mom is gonna sneak a little bit, ok?"- the young woman whispered to her tummy, feeling like a dork.

- "I’m gonna take that silence as a yes"- she put on a headphone and placed another on her belly.

- "Hey Bean!"- Matthew’s voice caught her breath as soon as the first track started- "It’s me! Your dad! I wanted to record these for you so you can remember my voice while you are away with your mommy, ok? Sorry, it’s not the most soothing voice you’ll ever hear, but I love you, so I guess it’ll have to do the trick"- Joey chuckled and closed her eyes, refusing to take out that hoodie, listening to Matthew’s voice, and drowning in his scent.

- "So let’s start with a bedtime story, I’ve got the feeling you are doing a lot of sleeping in there, so I’ll read you one of my favorites growing up"- Joey’s heart melt with each word recorded on that iPod

- "I promise when you are out of your mommy, I’m gonna reread it, and you’ll tell me if you like it, ok? Now, let’s get to business:"

“I am Sam. I am Sam. Sam-I-Am.

That Sam-I-Am! That Sam-I-Am! I do not like that Sam-I-Am!

Do you like green eggs and ham?

I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.

I do not like green eggs and ham.

Would you like them here or there?

I would not like them here or there.

I would not like them anywhere.

I do not like green eggs and ham.

I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.”

Slowly and softly, Matthew’s voice relaxed Joey like a sweet lullaby, and she fluttered her eyes until she fell asleep safe and sound as his reading continued reading Dr. Seuss's stories to their baby.

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