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tonowarii · 1 year

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That One's Mine

Pairing: Ao'nung x Fem! Metkayina! Reader x Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

Requested?: Yes

Summary: Growing up with Ao'nung, his parents and yours had eventually promised you to each other. Now training under Ronal to become tsahik, unexpected events occur when the family of Toruk Makto arrive.

Word count: 3.5k

Warning/s: slight atwow spoilers if you squint, jealous aonung, violence, fluff, this time neteyam being a skxawng (jk)

Note: Likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are most welcome and appreciated! Let me know your thoughts!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

“Catch me if you can!” A little Aonung laughs, followed by your cousin, Rotxo who adds “We can run faster than your little legs!”

“No, you can’t!” Little you said, catching speed towards them.

Your parents alongside Tonowari and Ronal watched. “Look at them.” Your mother cooed to Ronal, her best friend as you finally caught up to Aonung and Rotxo a little too harsh, sending the three of you stumbling onto the sand.

Both mothers laughed at their children. Your father and Tonowari looked at each other with a content look on their faces.

As the years progressed, all of you grew into fine hunters, particularly you and Aonung had gotten close.

Your parents could tell there was this unspoken bond between the two of you, not long after his parents began noticing it too. Not long enough, they therefore decided that the two of you were fated together.

That Ao’nung in the future would be the olo’ekytan, with you by his side as tsahik. A mated pair before Eywa and their people.

But that was still a long time coming, as the two had accomplished their rite of passage, the two has yet to decide when they would be mates.

It still baffled you that you and Aonung would become a mated pair in the future, and now Ronal had taken you under her wing to be a tsakarem just like Tsireya.

“Now this way.” Ronal was teaching the two of you. You and Tsireya looked at each other before following her.

You were glad that you and Tsireya were able to become close due to always spending the time together learning.

After finishing your lesson for the day, you and Tsireya bid goodbye to Ronal with a smile on your faces.

“We’re just going out, mother.” Tsireya laughs.

Ronal gives the two of you her rare smiles, she could very well remember your mother and her being like that in the past. “Go, keep safe.”

Leaving the Marui, you were greeted with the afternoon sky. You gave a stretch and a yawn. Tsireya breathes in the air. “I still can’t believe you’re going to be my sister-in-law soon!” She gushed, making you snap your mouth shut and blush.

“Tsireyaaaa…” You whine, you hated when she always teased you about her brother, not in a negative way, it was more like a stop-teasing-because-I-will-literally-combust-into-butterflies way.

“You better not be messing with her, sister.”

“And speaking of.” Tsireya said, looking up to meet his brother. “- And no, I am not! I’m just telling how happy we’ll be if—” You covered her mouth, not facing Aonung, who was standing behind you.

He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Happy if?”

“Happy if- uh...” You thought. Tsireya then takes your hand off her mouth and spoke.

“Happy if you’d finally make her a part of the family!”

You scrunch your face, closing your eyes shut as heat seeped through your cheeks, turning a shade darker.

Instantly, you felt Aonung’s hand snake to your arm, going to your shoulder, gently turning you around to meet him.

You open your eyes and the first thing you see is that stupid smirk on his face that you fell in love with.

“Seems like they can’t wait, can they?” He teased.

“Tsireya I told y-“ You turned to face her, Aonung’s hand still on your shoulder but Tsireya was already skipping away from the two of you.

You sigh rather loudly, facing him.

“You not happy to see me anymore?” Ao’nung tilts his head, looking down at you. Your pout turns into a playful smile as you playfully shoved his chest.

Aonung laughs, pulling you close as he wraps an arm around your waist as the two of you started walking side by side.

“It feels like everyone’s expecting us to be mated already.” You started the conversation. Aonung turns his head to you, before he looks out the horizon.

“Mother has been asking about it too.” He replied. You turn to him, studying his features as he looked in front of him.

You blink.

“You should hear my mother instead, asking me if you had already asked me, considering the number of gifts you’ve given me.” You could feel Aonung chuckle as you leaned onto his side.

His arms gave a comforting squeeze. “You know I’ll always wait for you.” Aonung wasn’t one to push, he knew you’ll give him your answer when you were ready.

For now, the two of you were just enjoying being young, being together.

But you felt guilty, sure you had all the time in the world, but you could not keep him waiting even if he constantly reassures you. You were lucky to have someone as patient and loyal as him.

“Besides, it’s not like you could do anything about it, you’re stuck with me.” Aonung jokes with a smirk, his arm now going to wrap around your shoulder as he gives a subtle feather-light kiss on the side of your temple.

You blush with a laugh. “Being stuck with the olo’eyktan’s finest hunter… who would’ve thought?”

“Hmm, I guess little you did.” He responds. “But little me thinks he’s luckier having this beautiful girl beside him, the girl who captured his heart and trapped it with hers.”

“Oh, you can be quite the dramatic.” You say as the two of you walked along the shore.

“Not dramatic if it is true.”

There you go again, blushing for the nth time within minutes of being with him. It instantly made your day better.

But both of your fun had to end as eclipse set. Aonung was now walking you towards your marui.

Reaching the destination and entering, you were greeted by your mother and father. But your mother looked like she was happier to see Aonung.

“Aonung, my son! How are you?” Your mother greeted him and Aonung smiles.

“I am good ma, I just thought I’d walk (Y/N) back here, to make sure she gets home safe.”

Your mother instantly cooes, thanking him. Your father seemed to be also pleased by Aonung’s presence as he gives him a nod to which Aonung bowed to.

“Mom, Aonung has to go home now, look how dark it is outside.” You say, placing a hand on your mother as you looked out.

“Oh, imagine it, soon the two of you will be finally sharing your own marui, you’d no longer have to worry about each other going home separately.”

The thought sent you and Aonung looking at each other as Aonung sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Mom!” You say.

Finally, your mother gives in an bids goodbye to Aonung as she returned to her spot.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked.

“Of course, goodnight.” You smiled.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The following weeks ran smoothly.

However, today was something you’d never expect to happen.

You were on your ilu, carrying your bag filled with freshly plucked shellfish on your way to the shore when screeching sounded.

You had commanded your ilu to stop when you looked up.

Knitting your brows, you find a couple of mountain banshees approaching. It had you thinking, there wasn’t any news from the Omatikaya clan that they would be coming today?

And weirdly enough, why would they need five of them if they were only to send a message?

You watched as they circled around, more people noticing as they yelped at them. Soon, everyone was gathering around the shore.

Instantly you saw Tsireya on her ilu as well. Deciding to approach her, she notices you and speaks. “What do you think they’re doing here?”

“I don’t know…” You respond.

Then they landed.

You and Tsireya looked at each other. “Come, let’s see!” Tsireya says curiously, already had her ilu moving. You followed.

As the crowd formed around them, you and Tsireya had reached the shore, dismounting and walking towards them curiously.

To your surprise, you already see Aonung and Rotxo, who was having too much fun in making fun of their tails.

You walked behind Tsireya as she slaps Rotxo on the arm, making you chuckle. “Do not. Rotxo, Aonung.”

Finally looking to see your visitors, it had taken you by surprise. They were blue, their arms where thin and long, and their tails was… small compared to yours. They had striking eyes that had a mix of yellow and green in them.

“Hey.” You hear one of them speak beside the other teenage boy, you could see him looking at Tsireya, making the two of you giggle.

Though you also feel the other boy’s eyes on you as you looked to confirm your suspicions. He was, indeed, looking at you.

He flashes you a friendly smile and you smiled back at him.

Little did you know Aonung watched the interaction, sending him glaring daggers at the back of the poor boy’s head as he tapped Rotxo on the side, muttering things under his breath.

As the olo’eyktan and tsahik arrived, Aonung and Tsireya walked to get beside their parents while you followed behind them with your cousin, Rotxo.

You watched the whole scene play out as Ronal circled them, pointing out their appearance, to when Tonowari granted them to stay.

“My son Aonung and our daughter Tsireya will show your children what to do.” Tonowari spoke.

Instantly, your eyes shift to Aonung who stepped forward to speak out to his father.

“Father, why—”

“It has been decided.”

Tsireya offers them a gentle smile, before looking back at you and pulling onto your hand to drag you with her.

Aonung notices this of course, and he has a sour look on his face as he watches the two of you.

“Come! We will show you our village.”

The crowd dispersed as Toruk Makto’s family had gathered their belongings. You were standing beside Tsireya. Honestly, curiosity was gnawing at you, and you were thankful Tsireya had dragged you with her.

You watched them as they carried their stuff, and you already feel the same pair of eyes looking at you as you talked with Tsireya. You gripped on your bag a little tightly as you looked at them.

“We’ll help you with that.” Tsireya says, grabbing a few bags off of Neytiri as she thanked her, while you had chosen to help the boy from earlier, seeing that he has a lot to hold on to.

“I can take it, here.” You approach him, grabbing a few bags and a roll of mat off him before he had a chance to refuse.

“Thank you.” Was the only thing he said to you.

Now making your way to their newly assigned marui, the boy had introduced himself to you.

“Hi, thank you again for carrying our stuff… you didn’t have to.” He says from behind you, you slow your footsteps to have him walk beside you. “It’s the least we could do, this is going to be your new home after all.”

He pauses, his mouth opening and closing as he walked with you. “I am Neteyam.”

Neteyam? Hmm.

“(Y/N). It is nice to meet you, Neteyam.” You reply.

“(Y/N)… nice.”

“Hm?” You look at him. “I mean it is nice to meet you.” He clears his words.

Aonung and Rotxo watched behind all of you, specifically, Aonung’s eyes were targeted on the boy beside you as he strikes up a conversation.

“Just up here.” Tsireya announces.

Reaching the newly made marui, you had left the boy to walk besides Tsireya, placing their bags down.

“This is for you, your new home.” She spoke.

“This is nice, right?” Jake Sully had said, in turn, you flinch as the noise of the mat being carried by Neytiri had dropped as everyone turned to look at her.

“We will leave you guys to get settled.” You say, placing your hands together with a small smile.

“We will teach you starting tomorrow, but for now I hope you all get some rest.” Tsireya announced.

Walking away, you smirked and nudged Tsireya on the side “That boy couldn’t take his eyes off you.” You teased her. Tsireya giggles, rolling her eyes. “You had that one boy staring at you too.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, you and Tsireya walking side by side laughing to yourselves.

Rotxo and Aonung watched from the side as the two of you laughed and giggled like little kids. It struck his nerves, what were the two of you laughing about? He sighs, patting Rotxo on the side to go and do their own pending tasks.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The day started bright and early, it just had been about every other day before, but this time you had begun to teach Jake Sully’s kids.

Already diving in the water, you felt the cool water envelop you as you swam, your tail swishing to propel you further. You swam around coral reefs and among the fishes, Aonung following close by.

You stop and looked behind you to see the siblings on the surface. They glanced down and you could see Tsireya signing them to come swim with you.

Aonung stopped as well, looking at you to find you looking at them, while Rotxo, from beside him, looked at them too.

As they dove back down, you smile and continue swimming around. But they had to come up for air again as the four of you saw them reaching to the surface.

All of you looked at each other.

‘What’s wrong with them?’ Aonung signed.

‘They are bad divers’ Rotxo replied to him.

‘Stop that’ you signed back. ‘They’re learning’ Tsireya added.

Aonung rolled his eyes but watched as Rotxo and Tsireya swam up.

You swim towards him, tilting your head. ‘Give them a chance’ you signed. ‘Come on let’s go up’ You added.

Both of you swam to the surface beside one another.

You were about to talk when Aonung began “You are not good divers, maybe good at swimming through trees—”

Turning towards him, you give him a light smack on the shoulder, making his smirk drop as he looks at you with a ‘What was that for?’ look.

“Come on, bro.” The other sibling, who you learned was Lo’ak, said.

“We don’t speak this… finger talk you guys. We don’t know what you’re saying.” Neteyam said.

“We will teach you.” You say, Aonung looks at you before looking back at them.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After a few weeks, Aonung could notice the way Neteyam was always on you. And it was getting on his nerves. You, however, seemed clueless about it.

There were times when all of you were teaching them sign language, and when he failed to get it right, you’d assist him by having your hands on his. And with the way that the forest boy blushed had Aonung feeling annoyed.

He wanted to send a sign that you were already taken, that you were his. But at the same time, he didn’t want to cause trouble if it included you.

So, he settled on subtle ways.

He’d always make sure he was a little too close to you. He would then randomly talk to you, leaning his face closer to yours whenever they were around.

And he would be sure to often grab your arm or hand a few times to grab your attention from them.

But you weren’t noticing these things he was doing. It made you blush and smile, sure, but you didn’t know their true intentions. It made him look jealous, because he was. You were his, why can’t he see that?

Even though when you both had free time you were always being pulled away from him by the Sully’s, even Tsireya for Eywa’s sake! What has gotten into you two?

Even more, his actions didn’t even seem to stop Neteyam from staring at you and taking the chance to talk with you when he wasn’t around.

“These are ilu. If you want to live here, you have to ride.” Aonung says, introducing the ilu’s to the Sully kids.

You were there, standing, watching Aonung with love in your eyes, with the way he was acting the past few weeks had you feeling fuzzy.

Although you missed hanging out with him, considering you were always being pulled aside by Neteyam or even both you and Tsireya were being pulled aside by both Neteyam and Lo’ak.

At first it was asking for advice, then they started asking questions about yourselves and so on. You hadn’t really given it much thought until Tsireya bought it up one afternoon.

After finishing the lesson, you and Tsireya were walking back to the village. “(Y/N), have you noticed the way Neteyam has been giving you heart eyes this whole time?”

You stopped, looking at her. “Wait- What?”

“My Eywa, you haven’t noticed?” Tsireya gasps, looking at you. “No- what? I thought he was just wanting to make friends.”

“More than friends.” Tsireya corrected, laughing. You thought back, and it did seem so.

“And!” Tsireya says, grabbing onto your arm. “You should see the look on Aonung’s face everytime he comes across Neteyam… or Lo’ak too for that matter…” Tsireya concluded. “It looks like he really hates them.”

Then you connected the dots. Maybe that’s why Aonung was being clingy than before. He was jealous. He was almost subtly marking you as his, that you were taken.

Helping them get on their ilu’s you watched Lo’ak speed off with his ilu, before letting go, sending him tumbling onto the water.

Aonung laughed beside you as you chuckled yourself. You then watched Neteyam carefully guiding his ilu around, with a smile on his face.

You feel an arm snake around your waist, looking up, you still see Aonung teasing Lo’ak. You smile to yourself at Aonung’s actions.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Then Aonung had enough.

“Back off. Now.” Neteyam pointed at Aonung’s chest as Aonung had decided to pick on his sister, Kiri, for being a freak.

Aonung still hadn’t settled on accepting the Sully family as their own, he was being stubborn, and now this is where it got him.

Aonung only smirked at him, walking forward as Neteyam’s finger pressed even further on his chest.

“Then why won’t you back off my mate, huh?” He taunted. Although you weren’t mates yet, he just had to do something to make Neteyam stop his moves on you.

Neteyam looked confused as he dropped the accusatory finger from his chest. “What do you mean?”

“Skxawng, I’m talking about (Y/N). She doesn’t want anything to do with you.” He shoved his chest back, making Neteyam stumble as Lo’ak intervened.

“We didn’t know, bro—”

“Maybe this will let you know.” Aonung said, shoving Neteyam strongly this time. But Neteyam didn’t back down as a fight began to break out between Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Aonung’s gang.

Tsireya and you were just walking when you began to hear a commotion.

“The forest people and Aonung are fighting!” You heard one say.

Forest people… Aonung?

Quickly looking at each other, you and Tsireya broke off into a sprint to head towards them.

“Aonung!” You said as the scene of Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Aonung and his friends were fighting welcomed your eyes.

The other people pulled Neteyam and Lo’ak out while Rotxo held Aonung back.

“What’s happening?” Tsireya asked.

“Stay away.” Aonung said, pointing at Neteyam.

Your eyes widen, seeing a large bruise already forming on Aonung’s cheek as his bottom lip was busted open. You rushed towards him, cupping his cheek.

“Eywa give me strength…. What did you do?” You say frantically.

You looked towards Neteyam and Lo’ak, then back at Aonung.

Neteyam saw how your face formed in worry as you rushed to Aonung’s aid. What Aonung said was true. You were with him and he was too dumb to see that. It made his chest ache, but he knew he was in the wrong. You were only helping him out.

And that’s when the Sully brothers heard the voice of their father.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ઇଓ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After that, the tension had died down. Neteyam and Aonung were able to set their differences, they became friends as well as with Lo’ak and their siblings.

Now you and Aonung were sat a rocky shore as you recalled what happened.

“So, you really said I was your mate already?” You laugh.

“I- kinda… yeah.” Aonung sighs in defeat, and in embarrassment. “I figured saying that might finally knock some sense into him.”

“Mhm even though we’re not mates.”

“I know, I’m sorry for—”

“But I guess we can change that, can we?” You smile up at him.

Aonung then snaps his gaze back to you, confusion etched all over him.

“What do you mean?”

Pulling him to peck his lips, you held his cheeks.

“Aonung, I am more than happy to become your mate.”

And the wide smile that crossed his lips was truly a sight to see.

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everythingne · 14 days

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ one and two - chapter one (ls2)

Your father, the President of The United States, has decided the only way to keep you ‘tame’ is up have you married off… to a Formula One driver..?

logan sargeant x first daughter!reader, smau and short fic

tws: arranged marriage,

fc: yasmin barbieri (and random other pinterest found photos)

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, luis.fsotus, flotus, and 749k others...

yn.fdotus: taking a break from washington to see my collab with @ amaricarter at @ nyfw !!! aaaa!! geeking out a lil bit <3 all my hard work has finally paid off friends... many tears were shed xx

flotus: so so proud of my little girl!! cannot believe the woman you've grown into <3

user1: yn slaying in and outside of dc fr fr

user2: YESSS SLAY YN!!!

luis.fsotus: no pic credit :(?

⤷ yn.fdotus: this is for eating my panera >:(

⤷ panerabread: girlie dw we can hook u up with more <3

⤷ yn.fdotus: i love u panera <3<3

potus: so proud of you my little star!

user3: not her acc getting recommended to me bc logan sargeant follows her omg.

⤷ user2: no sameeee but i loveeee yn

user5: non-american f1 fans who love yn like this comment actually?

liked by 856 others...

user4: THATS MY FIRST DAUGHTER!!

“This is so stupid.” you grumble a complaint into the air, looking over at your mother as she laughs from where she sits in the William’s VIP room with your father and older brother-- both Santino Colombo, your father going by Santino and your brother going by Santi.

“He’s a nice young man!” Santino defends his actions as if he isn’t asking you to do the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. You have to pretend this guy who you have never met before is your boyfriend. Now, okay, you knew a bit about Logan because you’d been a fan of his for years because of your father’s love of Formula drivers, and Logan was the only American to get points in like… twenty years. You and Logan had followed each other on socials long ago when this first 'arranged marriage' thing was brought up. You'd spoken occasionally since, but nothing too serious. A flirt here or there, a joke, then mostly just formalities.

It wasn't that you didn't like Logan, he was a fine guy and easy on the eyes but it just felt... weird, to be forced into this.

With you being the more rebellious of the two of his kids, you had to be ‘locked up.’ Which was so stupid, your twenty six year old brother was a big party boy in college. Your father having paid off so many people to be hush about his drunken idiocy. But now he was already on his way to becoming a law firm CEO with a pretty wife and two daughters and you were a little fashion student who just had her first ever big break, never having done hard drugs or got the cops called on you like dear old Santi.

But you were a girl, something to be protected, and big breaks meant it was time for you to settle in the eyes of America’s leader.

And thus, your father got in contact with the Sargeants through Dalton somehow during your fathers candidacy. And now a year and two months later you were expected to be visiting your ‘secret boyfriend of two years.’

“He’s a wonderful guy,” Santino huffs at your obvious distaste, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I thought he was going to be bad for you, you know.”

“You didn’t even ask me! What if I had a boyfriend!”

“You didn’t.” Santi says after a sip of his champagne, “and, if you did, Dad would’ve just had you marry the guy you were dating.”

“If he passed the dad test.” you complain, making your brother laugh while your father just rolls his eyes. You don’t have time to say anything else because he’s standing up to greet James Vowles, the team principal of Williams, and you follow suit.

"So this is the woman Logan's been keeping a secret?" James grins and you realize, yeah, okay now it's time to act.

"Sorry he kept you in the dark for so long, Mr. Vowles!" You smile, glancing over James' shoulder as you speak to see who can only be Logan approaching, "Logan does speak very highly of you."

"As he does you." James nods, stepping back to allow you to happily pull Logan in for a hug. None of this is rehearsed. None of this is planned. Logan's arms slot naturally around yours life he was sculpted from the same marble, and your head fits perfectly under his chin. When you both step back, you let out of a soft giggle with flushed cheeks and try to not see the obvious overjoyed expression on your fathers face.

yn.fdotus added to their story!

Logan's drivers room is neat, tidy, but small. He lets you take up the somewhat comfy couch while he pulls his fireproof over his head with his back to you. You both have sat in silence for the past five minutes, your parents whisking you off to the 'comfort' of Logan's room so you both could bond.

"So." Logan turns around once he's fully changed into his racing gear, and you try your hardest to make sure your eyes don't wander because god damnit did those fireproofs have to be so tight?

"So?" You echo with a tad more curiosity in your tone and Logan pops down next to you.

"I was told we need to have a consistent story to not get caught." His eyes meet yours breifly before he's looking away, almost bashfully as his hand comes to toy with his hair, "but I have no idea what that should be."

"You were born in Fort Lauderdale, right?" You ask, and when Logan nods you grin, "Alright, here it is, we were neighbors growing up. Your brother and my brother were really good friends, since I think they're the same age? We tagged along with the older brothers. When you moved we lost contact, but, when you started racing in Formula I got in contact with you via Instagram and the rest is history."

"Childhood best friends seems American enough," Logan grins and a laugh barks out of you that you aren't expecting. A smile pokes at his face and he looks away, almost like he's shy about making you laugh, which is only solidified by the blush you notice on his cheeks.

"Alrighty then, childhood best friend." You tap his thigh with your heel from where your legs are crossed, eyes peeking up as someone knocks on the door.

"Come in," Logan calls, his hand going to rest on your knee before none other than Alex Albon pops open the door with a very curious Lily behind him.

"Oh! Good." Alex steps in, letting Lily in before the door clicks shut. You can see Logan send Alex a confused look before the Thai driver opens his mouth and just says whatever comes to mind.

Which is, "How the fuck did you rizz her?"

"Alex!" Lily whacks her boyfriends arm and you can't help but burst into laughter, hiding your face in Logan's shoulder as you do. You miss whatever defense Logan throws at Alex because of the feeling of Logan pulling you closer by your thigh. It shocks you how much his touch feels like fire against your skin.

"All her," is what Logan says when he turns to you and the smile that crosses your face is natural as you shrug. Lily comes over to introduce herself, leaving Logan and Alex to bicker as she pulls you into a carefully coordinated hug.

"It's so nice to have another girl in the Williams garage." She says as she steps back, and you stand to continue the conversation a bit further away from whatever argument Alex has undoubtedly pulled Logan into now. Logan's hand squeezes your wrist when you walk away, a small fleeting touch, and it makes your cheeks red.

Shit. Why was he making you so flustered?

yn.fdotus

liked by alexalbon, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 787k others...

yn.fdotus: hot girls ditch f1 for affogato 🩵

tagged: lilymhe

lilymhe: @ logansargeant can u fight.

⤷ logansargeant: i think alex would kill me if i even breathed wrong next to you, so no.

⤷ alexalbon: i would. i would.

user1: NO FUCKING WAY??

lilymhe: LOML !!!! <3<3<3

⤷ yn.fdotus: UGH I WOULD DIE FOR U STOP <3

⤷ user2: LILY AND YN!!!!! A DUO!!! (yn design something for lily)

liked by yn.fdotus

"Are we like soft launching it?" You ask Logan as you wait for him to be called out to race, he's been fiddling with his sleeve for the past five minutes in agonizing silence. So you try and get his mind off the upcoming race.

"What?"

"Us, are we just gonna like... kiss after the race and be caught by cameras? Or try and like... be sneaky with it? Like pretending we're hiding from cameras but letting them catch us and whatnot."

Logan blinks, his hand falling from fiddling with his sleeve to his lap where you've laid your legs over. ("So you can get used to how close we have to be for media," Logan had suggested.) His hand comes to rub small circles just above your knee as you lean back against the back of the couch.

"I... is there one you prefer?" He asks, pulling out his phone to do what looks like texting someone back, "I can do either, I just don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"I think teasing it would be really cute," you smile and he nods, asking for you to explain, so you burst into a long list of ideas. Fleeting touches, hugs that last just a bit too long to be platonic, pictures of gifted bouquets and hidden faces for 'date nights' and early mornings. He smiles at you enthusiasm as you explain every little minute detail, and then he just takes one of your hands in his and presses a kiss to the back of it.

"Just tell me when, and I'm yours." He whispers, and you try to ignore the obvious affection in his eyes that has your cheeks warming up.

yn.fdotus added to their story!

Logan scores points. You're not even sure what place he ends up in, but you just know he scores points by the way Williams is cheering. You can even hear Logan laughing over his radio and your heart is in your throat as you join Lily in jumping up and down in excitement. Both Alex and Logan has gotten points, for the first time this season.

Your feet carry you, Lily pulling you along, your family laughing as you're brought to the garage and away from them. She detaches when Alex is out of his car, happily extending an arm for Lily to attach to his side as he holds his helmet in the other.

You, however, stop dead in your tracks.

Logan's tugging off his balaclava with the biggest smile on his face. The crows feet of his eyes tight with the smile that pulls them in, same with the way his cheeks puff out in happiness. You can't help but feel a blush on your face at the sight of him, sweaty, and yet with that amazing post-race glow your sister had joked about.

Holy shit, it really was a thing.

You feel cameras on you as you slowly make your way over, finding your footing like a fawn until Logan spots you and-- if possible, his grin grows even wider. You smile, quickening your steps until your pressed firm against his chest. His broad shoulder blocking the light as his arms encircle you, protecting you from the world as he dips his lips down to whisper.

"You can't look at me like that if we're soft-launching." He laughs and you follow suit, arms tight around his waist as you quickly reply,

"I'm just so proud of you, you drove really well today."

His arms tighten a bit more and you assume this is the whole, hugs that are a bit more than platonic bit. When you step back, he keeps his eyes on you and one hand on your back as Alex comes over to celebrate with him.

Later that night, a text lights up your phone,

'if you want a full miami day, tomorrow ill pick you up around nine?"

And the giggles that leave you are genuine as you throw yourself out of bed to pick out some clothes for the list of activities that Logan has planned.

yn.fdotus added to their story!

tag list (comment to be added, and thanks for those who are already on it !)

@hiireadstuff @tigerlily789 @minkyungseokie @woozarts @motheraiya @uzisplanet @struggling-with-delia

#logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent x reader #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one fic

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not-the-cheese · 9 months

Text

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

youtube

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

#tma #i hope this convinces you to listen to tma #the magnus archives #sasha james #jon sims #podcasts #gay podcasts #elias bouchard #peter lukas #melanie king #gerard keay #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #funny #one sentence summaries #sillyposting #Youtube #queer

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luxthestrange · 9 months

Text

TWST Incorrect quotes#577 Sister in law-

Najma*Burst into her's and Jamil room without knocking*

Jamil*naked, super embarrassed and nervously looking between Najma and his closet* Naj-Najma, I thought you went out to eat with your friends?

Najma: yeah, but I forgot my wallet and- wait, why are you naked?

Jamil: i-i have nothing to wear...

Najma*opening Jamil's closet* don't be stupid Bro-Bro,-ah, look, you have trousers, sweaters, oh- hi, Yuu!~, t-shirts, sweatpan-

Najma*slowly turns back to stare at a very naked You in her brother's closet* WAIT A MINUTE*Smiles Evilly at Jamil*...Please tell me you two are at least using protection~

Jamil:NAJMA GET OUT!?!?

#disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #twst scarabia #scarabia x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper x yuu #jamil viper #najma viper #twst najma #twst smut #twst in the nutshell #twst incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

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twstowo · 3 months

Text

They End Up In a Universe Where The Two Of You Hate Each Other [Twst]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: The two of you are happily dating and he couldn’t have asked for anything else, however, one day he finds himself in a strange place only to find that here the two of you are enemies.

♡︎Enemies to lovers????

♡︎Includes: Riddle and Leona

[AU Masterlist]

[Here] ☆[Azul and Jamil] ☆[Vil and Idia] ☆[Malleus]

⋆⋅☆Riddle

The fate of this Riddle had been written. He would ascend to the position of the King of the Queendom of Roses as his mother passed away, and he would transform into a worse tyrant than her. Eventually, everyone he thought he could trust would turn against him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Riddle was dumbfounded when he opened his eyes, only to find himself in front of thousands of people, a crown on top of his head, proclaiming him as the King of this strange land. The people in front of him bowed in fear of his rules, as he was nothing more than a tyrant in this unfamiliar place.

Days passed as he tried to comprehend how he ended up in such a peculiar setting – one where Night Raven College didn't exist, and his mother, once the queen, had just died, making him the King of the Queendom of Roses. Along the way, he encountered some of his friends such as Trey and Che’nya, but none of them seemed to enjoy his company, only interacting with him out of fear, just like anyone else. For Riddle, this didn’t make any sense. He knew that his past actions in his universe had been that of a tyrant, but he had changed with your help and that of his friends who were here by his side. Seeing himself in a similar situation again, he decided to alter the course of history that dictated he be betrayed by his own people.

“Stay still, or I will cut your throat.” Finally, you entered the picture. Riddle had questioned when you would show up since he arrived. At first, he thought that maybe you would be one of the party members seeking his hand in marriage, but he felt that wouldn’t entirely suit you. He knew that when you showed up, you would turn his world upside down because that was the impact you had in his universe. You stood in front of him, a knife dangerously close to his throat, ready to cut it if he made any stupid moves. If this had been someone else, he would have been ready to fight, ready to call the guards and collar you. However, deep down, even with a knife next to his neck, he knew that he could trust you.

You were an assassin, meant to kill the tyrant king, driven with only this purpose. It had been one of your group that had murdered the Queen, and now it only lasted for you to finish the job of ending the tyrant's bloodline. However, strangely after the king’s coronation, you started seeing a strange change in his actions. The once tyrant man who collared everyone in the city came back to uncollar them. He hosted tea parties for the people in the city and abolished some of the laws his mother had created. Did you really have to kill someone like that? Was he as bad as everyone made him seem? You decided to check for yourself, and with that, you found that Riddle was, in fact, someone with a gentle heart.

“I wish to undo what my mother started,” you heard his docile words, a questionable expression on your face. Did he really mean that? He could be trying to lower your guard to call the guards, but within his eyes, you saw no sign of lies. He meant what he had said, he truly wanted to better the Queendom. You decided to give him one chance, for if he failed, you would come back to take his life.

⋆⋅☆Leona

The fate of this Leona had been written. He would kill his brother out of jealousy for ascending to the throne, and over time, he would be overthrown by his own nephew, left to be alone and mocked.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

A story that Leona deemed fitting for him, as he once again witnessed his brother achieving what he had desired, becoming even here the shadow of his own brother. Most of his days were spent lazing around, knowing that no good would come from trying to follow the predetermined path laid out for him. Unless he did things differently.

The sweet taste of power was intoxicating, and he planned everything with immense detail, confident that everything would turn out perfectly. That was until he saw you. You, hailing from another land, sought to establish a peaceful connection between the realms. Upon seeing him, you strolled towards him with a fiery look, as if commanding him to behave. If it had been anyone else, he might have lost his composure, making sure you would regret ever looking at him disrespectfully. But he could never do that to you. He almost found the expression amusing, almost as if you had turned into his lucky angel, advising him to halt his plans before he could end up as fate had written for him here.

“Why are you always lazing around?” The sweet melody of your voice captured his attention, but there was nothing sweet about it. Your hands rested on your hips as you looked down at his figure. To anyone hearing you speak, it would seem as if you hated him, and to a point, you actually did. The fact that you saw so much potential in Leona, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was sleep, made you furious beyond belief. You had come from a family that demanded perfection, and perfection you had to become. Working day and night to fulfill their expectations, you aimed to continue their bloodline. Seeing someone like Leona, who appeared to have been born with everything you had to work so hard for, made you mad.

“Why not join me for once?” He asked, tapping the grass next to him, a mocking tone present in his voice as he checked if you could lower your guard to fulfill his wish. In truth, he just missed the moments back in his universe where he would lay his head on your lap as you talked about your day. Yet, the you from this universe wasn’t so thrilled with that idea, and he watched as you turned around with a roll of your eyes.

Your encounters were filled with glares, as you didn't seem to enjoy his company and spoke ill of him. However, somehow, even if mean, he found himself enjoying the time spent with you, albeit fleetingly. While he glanced at your departing figure, wishing to spend more time with you, he knew that, just like in his universe, you were meant to be by his side.

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #twst writing #twistedwonderland #riddle x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader

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personasintro · 10 months

Text

monachopsis | 09

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series, brother-in-law au

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, ANGST

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 16.4k+

a/n: the long wait is over and the new chapter is here 🥹 sit back and enjoy ❤️‍🔥

↳ chapter index

⇠ prev. | next ⇢

The cold and dark night perfectly portrays your inner feelings that dawn on you on the outside too, tears blurring your vision as you angrily wipe them off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn't have come here. You trusted Yoongi to help you, maybe you even looked for comfort in him but you never expected he would accuse you of something like that.

Absolutely understanding that it's not his responsibility to comfort you, he could've easily told you to fuck off if he wanted. But still, you hoped he would understand. Your reaction is mainly controlled by your emotions, not with your head that doesn't seem to be in the right place.

Life taught you not to expect things from people, but everyone's got their expectations. Especially when you feel like you know that person at least a little bit. So you expect nothing this time, making your way to the car when you hear your name being shouted on the street.

You've barely managed to take a few, fast and angry, strolls out of the studio. Glancing back and stopping in your tracks, you notice Yoongi staring at you as he rushes to you. You can't face him now. You turn around and continue in your path with even more eager and faster steps to get to your car.

Yoongi catches up to you though, running after you as the wind gets more intense and makes your hair stick to your wet cheeks. He's not going to let you leave, especially when he stormed out of his studio past his very confused friends. He's not fully understanding what happened, he might've gotten carried away and shouldn't have accused you of such things. But from what you were saying, it was something that made sense.

You're not okay. You weren't okay the second he laid his eyes on you when you were standing at the entrance of his new studio. And you're not okay now when he catches you by your forearm, stopping you from getting away from him and he sees your crying face.

Fuck. Is that all his doing?

“What do you want?” you snap, shrugging off his touch with an angry frown as you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve.

What does he want? He has no fucking idea. He just couldn't leave you in such a state, knowing you have nowhere else to go. For fuck sake, he doesn't get why you came to him out of all people but you did. And he knows he would feel like a fucking asshole if he let you leave in your current state. The look of you only confirms he has done the right thing.

“I shouldn't have assumed anything,” he speaks, eyes dancing across your face as you're trying to look angry. Only he feels bad for you, knowing what happened between you and his brother is way more serious. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry I came here. It won't happen again.” you say emotionlessly, ending the conversation there as you turn around.

Yoongi doesn't let you. He catches you again, softly but enough to let you stay as he turns you around. “Where are you going?”

“Why do you care?” The same emotionless tone. It makes his jaw tick.

“Where are you going?” he asks again, this time more deeper and slower.

“To my car. Now let me go.”

The truth is, you weren't only crying because of what Yoongi said. Sure, the interaction shocked you to the point where you felt disappointment, sadness and anger. You don't even know what emotion dominates. However, it's the awful feeling of loneliness and desperation. You have no idea what you're going to do now.

Yoongi watches you, a realization hitting him. “Fuck, you're shaking, Y/N.”

It hits you too. He's right. You didn't even notice it.

And then you break and a silent whimper leaves your mouth. There's no control over it, your body shaking even more as Yoongi sucks in breath harshly at the heartbreaking sight. He moves automatically, pulling your body to his with no protest from your side as you welcome his warmth. Despite the odd situation and Yoongi's arms around your fragile body, it doesn't dawn upon you he's hugging you until he tightens his grip on you.

“It's gonna be okay.” he mutters into the chilly air.

For a moment you're not able to react in any way, you direct all your focus trying to stop the tears that have welled up in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

“Nothing's gonna be okay.”

“Now that's very pessimistic of you.” He tries to joke lightly, letting out just a light chuckle. But once he doesn't seem you nowhere near amused and in the same state, he gently pulls you off him to get another glance at your teary face.

It's embarrassing that he sees you in such a horrific and vulnerable state. For a solid second you hate him for approaching you. Why couldn't he just let you leave? He said what he wanted to say. The hurt still resonates and even when he gently wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumb, like you would often see in romantic movies, nothing about this is romantic. You're pregnant, nowhere to go and with no one by your side.

Yoongi might've apologized already, but his assumption and words still sting and you have a hard time believing him. Is he truly sorry? Or he just didn't expect you to storm out of there like that? And finding you crying in the middle of the street like an emotional wreck?

“Come on, let's get you to the car.” he mumbles under his breath, looking around before he gently tugs onto your wrist. He doesn't let go, almost as if he's afraid of you running.

“My car's that way.” you point out emotionlessly, stubborn to show any more emotion that you already have.

He was right about one thing. You shouldn't drive in this state. No matter what could've happened, this is no longer only about you. You've got one more person to think about.

“We're gonna drive in my car.” he simply says and you don't argue.

Once he unlocks his car with a key – the old system of unlocking – you get inside and does it feel odd to be back inside it again? No words are exchanged, the radio playing softly in the background as you allow yourself to lean back and stare out of the window. You're not sure where he's taking you. Oh god, is he taking you back home? You can't go there! Not with Yeonseok there.

Just as you open your mouth, you recognize the familiar street and the direction you're heading at.

“Where are we going?” you ask, despite knowing but you still have to ask. Yoongi's aware of that.

“To my place.”

“Yoongi–”

Still hurt (and upset too) by your latest conversation at his new studio, you're aware of Yoongi wanting to be out of this as much as possible. While you're guessing he must feel bad for you and that's why he's doing this, you don't want him to do this out of pure pity. You would rather be alone in a hotel room until you figure out this mess.

“You said you have nowhere to go, didn't you?” he reminds you. A little output by his bluntness, your mouth opens and closes before you find words.

“And you said everything is way past us.” You quote him with an edge to your tone, shooting him a side glance as he keeps his eyes on the road as he lets out a sigh. “Drive me to a hotel. Any hotel is fine.”

You feel his momentarily gaze on you. Too stubborn to look, you keep staring ahead with a clenched jaw. It's not like there's no appreciation of what he's doing on your part. After everything – even if the emotions are too raw and current – you can tell that it's a positive thing that he decided to stop you from driving. As usual, you're absolutely clueless about what's going on inside his head or why he's doing this. You don't think he's got any bad intentions. Regardless of what his parents and your husband say about him, you know Yoongi does have a good heart.

But you've got your own pride as well.

“I know what I said and I'm sorry.” he simply says, continuing in his drive and not changing the direction which you decide not to comment on for numerous reasons.

The air between you is a little stiff, undoubtedly caused by the misunderstanding (is that what it was?), and the way inside the building and his apartment is spent in utter silence. It's until Yoongi closes his front door and you're met with the familiar scent of oranges and wood, that you finally speak up.

“Why am I here, Yoongi?” you ask, not taking off your shoes like he tells you to – muttering it almost tiredly to be exact. You ignore him, raising your brow as you demand an answer.

He takes off his shoes and jacket silently, placing the items to their designated place. He's definitely taking his time but you don't budge, hardening your features even more as he takes a sneaky glance at you.

“Can we not fight?”

“I'm not fighting!” you exclaim, a little bit too loud which causes him to raise his brow at you this time. “Thanks for driving me but I shouldn't be here.”

“But you came to me, haven't you?” he asks, hardening his features just as much. “You must've wanted help.”

“I needed a friend,” you correct him. “I needed someone who understands.” Your voice wavers and you mentally curse at yourself.

He has no reaction, simply looking at you until he drops his gaze toward his feet.

“I know we're no friends. I'm aware of that. But I needed someone who's familiar with my situation. It was wrong of me to come up to you. You were right, it looked wrong and I shouldn't have–”

“I was an asshole for assuming the reason for you coming there.” he cuts you off. “It didn't even cross my mind that you needed–that you needed someone who understands.”

“You wanted as far out of this mess as possible,” you point out harshly. “And I can't blame you for it. We all got what we wanted, didn't we?”

He looks up, your eyes meeting for a moment as he understands the double meaning of your words. Poking the tongue inside of his cheek, he looks behind you.

“I don't wanna be any burden to you. I will handle this by myself, somehow. I don't know how yet, but it's not your concern. I'm sorry for coming to you.”

“Don't,” he cuts you off, staring at you sternly. “Just stay here, okay?” he asks, sighing exhaustedly like this entire situation makes him both mentally and physically exhausted.

It definitely exhausts you.

“Why?”

The question is simple. You don't expect him to give you a proper answer or any at this point. Yoongi might be honest but most of the time, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He's not one to open his heart and if he does, he does it almost emotionlessly. You know it's all an act. The often mentioned build-up wall you named in your mind.

“Because I wanna help.”

That alone makes your breath hitch. Dryly gulping, you try not to react too much as you stand there not moving an inch.

“Do you, now?” you ask. You're aware of your stubbornness and the fact you're not making any of this easy. You should be happy that he's trying to help. At least someone is. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of what a fucked up deal you made. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of why you left your perfect and loving husband. So yes, he's here trying to help and you should be glad for it. A part of you thinks like that.

But there's that part of you completely clueless by his intentions or inner thoughts. He's talking but at the same time he barely reveals anything. Perhaps your questioning and attitude is caused by still lingering hurt.

“Yes,” he answers with a frown. “So let me help you.”

Features softening, you stare into those usually sharp eyes that somehow keep their shape despite the light behind them changing. Hesitantly, you take off your shoes and ignore the fact he's watching you the entire time. Once you're done, he leads you further down his small apartment. Not that he needs you. You know this place well and again, it's not like any of you need that reminder.

“I can lend you some of my clothes.” he says, motioning for you to sit down on his couch.

You obey, placing your hands over your knees as you look around. Why are you suddenly nervous? Or is that discomfort you're feeling? You definitely imagined all of this to go differently. Still a little shaken up by everything that has happened today, everything starts to take its toll on you.

“I'm not a tea drinker but I should have herbal tea somewhere. I will make you one.”

He doesn't wait for your response, simply walking away to his kitchen to prepare the tea. He's gone for a few minutes, but you refuse to even look in that direction. You hate that feeling of being alone. As soon as you're surrounded by the four walls and silence, minus the occasional sounds of drawers opening and closing that come from the kitchen, everything starts to replay in your mind like a broken record.

Luckily, Yoongi comes back with a cup of tea, placing it in front of you in utter silence.

“Thanks.”

He only nods, slowly and carefully sitting down on the separate chair.

“You can take my bed.”

“I can sleep on the couch.” you inform him. “I'm not fragile.”

He seems like he wants to argue at that statement, he keeps his mouth shut. The couch is nothing but uncomfortable and you both know that. But you don't need him sacrificing himself any more than he already has.

“Don't fight me on this, alright?” he asks gently. When your stern frown meets his exhausted one, you press your lips into a tight line as you mutter out another thanks. “I've got sessions throughout the entire day, but feel free to do whatever you want.”

“I'll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” you tell him, meaning every word.

“You can stay however long you want, okay?” He leans his head, trying to catch your eyes again. And once he does and your gaze naturally finds him, he deepens his stare as if to make sure you understand. “I'm barely at home. You'll have this place all to yourself. Not that there's much to do but…”

You press your lips tightly, a little grin threatening to crack.

“I'll try to come home quickly. We'll figure it out, okay?”

Looking at him once more, you search his face for any answers that are yet to be answered.

What do you mean, you want to ask. Since when does he want to get involved?

“I thought you didn't want to get involved.” you say silently, staring at your fumbling hands that rest in your lap.

“Yeah, me too.” he mutters, his eyes not leaving his form. “I got myself involved the moment I nodded to Yeonseok's idea.”

Flinching at the sound of your husband's name, you clear your throat rather awkwardly.

“It's not your responsibility to get into this mess. I know in a way you're involved, but you're not entirely involved in my and your brother's mess.”

It definitely sounds messy. The argument started with Yoongi, the entire trail of your thoughts started with him in a way. But he doesn't need to get involved more than that. It was a mistake on your part to come to his new place and search for him, in hope for some comfort.

“Me staying here is just going to cause a disaster.”

You both know you're talking about your husband here. The look you both share says it all.

“Yeonseok?” he still asks, chuckling a little.

You nod.

“I'm not afraid of him.”

“I know you're not but he's… you know how he is. If he finds out I'm here–he probably already suspects I went to you. I'm not sure but I think he does.”

“I'll handle him if he comes here.”

You nervously nibble on your bottom lip. Your stupid decision to seek comfort and support from Yoongi might cause even a bigger mess.

“Don't worry, okay? I'll handle it. Let me help you.”

After staring at him hesitantly, aware of vulnerability written all over your face, you give him a nod. Something that allows him to relax as he leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I'll prepare the bed for you.”

You open your mouth to argue but before you can do that, he's already on his feet walking away. Sighing in disappointment, you reach for the plain black cup nevertheless.

Yoongi doesn't leave for work too early, but early enough for you two not seeing each other. You wake up later than usual, very well aware your late night staring at the dark ceiling and not blinking an eye has a lot to do with it. No matter how tired you truly felt as soon as you laid into the fresh sheets, your mind just couldn't seem to stop working.

Yoongi stayed true to his words. He stayed on his uncomfortable couch. Proposing sharing a bed is not something appropriate, despite you've shared a bed before. Things are different now.

The first thing you did this morning, after blinking off any traces of sleep and staring around Yoongi's bedroom, was turning on your phone. No missed calls. You're not sure whether you're relieved or surprised. Yeonseok is usually very caring and tends to get worried. Deep down you know you expected to see at least a message.

It's better this way. Having him trying to reach you would just make you more uncomfortable. You know he's equally upset and even though you've never been through something like this, you made yourself clear.

Getting out of the bed, wearing Yoongi's clothes which you're trying not to think of much, you find a sticky note on a counter. A messily written note. You imagine him writing it at the last minute, hurrying to leave for work.

There's some food in the fridge, feel free to make whatever you'd like. It's not much but it should do.

Simple, but effective.

Turning on the kettle, you prepare a cup and tea. Wow, he really isn't a tea drinker. Choosing the only box he has there, you open the fridge to find good ingredients to make a proper breakfast from. You've never been much of a breakfast eater, but after you got pregnant that has changed. You've been craving more food now, even though you sometimes get sensitive about smells and taste.

You settle on a toast. It takes you around fifteen minutes to prepare everything. You purposely take your time, knowing there's nothing much for you to do for the rest of your day. Maybe you should change back into your clothes and leave Yoongi's apartment while he's at work. As much as he assured you he wants to help, you know that's not what he wanted at the beginning. Not that it matters, but something tells you the inconvenience your stay is going to bring.

You're not a pity case. You hate the thought of him pitying you.

Regardless of your thoughts, your feet don't cross his doorstep. You're in the middle of watching a movie on his Netflix account (hoping he won't mind you using it) when your phone rings. Brows lift up to your hairline, seeing Yoongi is the one calling you. Pausing the movie, you clear your throat before answering.

“Yes?”

“Um, hey.” Yoongi starts, clearing his tone from the sudden but apparent awkwardness. “Have you eaten?”

Something about that question makes you snort.

He groans on the other line. Little do you know he's awkwardly scratching the top of his head.

“I have.” you say with a smile grazing your lips.

“I'm gonna buy some groceries after work,” he continues. “There are some flyers on the fridge. Feel free to order dinner, there are uh,” he stops for a second. “A few bucks in my nightstand.”

“Yoongi, I should–”

“Just stay there, okay?”

He's met with silence.

“Y/N.”

Stopping yourself from biting your nails, you lick your dry lips. “Okay.”

Once Yoongi ends the phone call without saying anything else, you stay seated in utter silence – staring at the paused movie. It sounded like he needed assurement you wouldn't leave. You're not sure why he's so determined about you waiting up for him. You wouldn't do anything stupid, it's not like you've got many options to begin with. But you promised him you would stay.

After all, he's the only person who's helping you at the moment.

Back in Yoongi's studio, he places the phone back onto a counter with a thoughtful look. Too immersed in his thoughts, wondering what he's going to do once he comes back home, he doesn't notice Jimin coming from the back and joining him in the front.

“Your next appointment is in five. You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his friend with a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Who was that on the phone? Your girlfriend?” he teases the older, laughing at Yoongi's unimpressed glare that tells him enough that he's not in the mood for a dumb teasing.

Actually, he's not been in the mood since he arrived at the studio and opened it with Jimin's help. While Yoongi's tattooing, Jimin takes care of the phone calls and incoming customers. After he ran after you, his friends were kind enough that they took care of the studio. Without their help, he wouldn't be able to start working and would be forced to cancel his long-waiting appointments. He's not in a position to cancel them. Even after paying his debts, he still needs the money.

His aching back is also a good reason for his sour mood.

“Don't hate me for asking. You've been quite secretive lately, no wonder we're all a little curious.” Even with Jimin's light grin, there's some truth to his words.

However, Yoongi doesn't agree.

He's not been secretive. He's always been the same. And he's sure what Jimin hints at is–

“Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law?” He's met with a tougher glare this time, causing Jimin's hands to lift up in surrender, showing him he means no harm.

“Is she okay though? She stormed out of here looking like a mess and then–”

“She's fine,” Yoongi cuts him off, tone harsher than he intended to which causes the younger's shoulders to drop. “Just some trouble back at home. Come on, the client is coming.” he mutters, walking to the back feeling Jimin's eyes on his back the entire time until he hears his cheerful greeting to one of Yoongi's new clients.

Despite the lack of Yoongi's will to share any information about what happened in the span of twenty-four hours, Jimin and none of his friends have a clue in what a fucked up situation he found himself in.

He never said at what time he would be back.

You've waited long enough for him to come, too embarrassed to admit your ears have been perked up at the littlest sounds, expecting the keys rustling in the lock. But when it was around eight and your stomach started to churn loud enough to no longer be ignored, you listened to Yoongi's words and ordered a delivery.

At least something seems to go right when you're in the middle of opening one of the containers when you hear the door being pushed open. It shuts in the distance and with soon approaching footsteps, you come into an eye-contact with him. Two bags full of groceries are in his both hands as the delicious smell of fresh food invades his small apartment. He glances at the amount of containers before he looks at you.

An almost inaudible Hi comes out of your mouth and instead of a vocal greeting, he nods in acknowledgement as he greets you back by it.

“I ordered some for you.” you tell him, slowly – almost cautiously – sitting behind the table.

“Thanks.” he says, eyes still lingering on the full table as your eyes widen in realization.

“Oh, I paid for it. I got a little carried away and got us a pizza and chicken wings. There's rice and a few side dishes as well.”

Yoongi listens for a second, walking to the kitchen counter where he sets the grocery bags before he turns around. He stays rooted in his spot, eyes falling down on you as you give him a sheepish look.

“I told you there's money in my nightstand. You didn't have to buy all of this.”

Even with his little pointed look and tone, you know he means well. And perhaps he's too prideful to suck up the fact you paid for it. Yoongi did say there's a few bucks in his bedroom but the order you placed cost more than just a few bucks. Although, you never checked how much money he has there – it didn't even cross your mind – none of it matters.

“I wanted to buy us dinner. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me stay here. It's the least I could do.”

Holding back any sort of reaction like you're used to when it comes to him, Yoongi sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Then he looks at you and cracks – what seems like an attempt to – smile.

He knows there's no way in arguing with you on this.

“Thanks. You didn't have to though.”

“I know I didn't. I wanted to,” you assure him right away, smiling in his direction as if to silently say that you're done with this conversation. “Now eat up. I hope you haven't eaten dinner already.”

“I haven't,” he hums, joining you at the table as he looks at the containers opening them. “Just how much did you order?” he asks, lips twitching.

“A lot.” you laugh.

Yoongi goes to grab utensils, washes his hands before joining you again at the table. The moment of you two sitting behind one table – just the two of you – having dinner feels odd. It feels oddly domestic. Just as the both of you are ready to dig in, Yoongi mutters a soft;

“Thanks for the food.”

All you can muster is a soft smile without even looking at him, stuffing your mouth with the delicious pizza as you continue to eat in silence.

After yesterday's late dinner and during the time he cleaned the kitchen, he asked you for your car keys and documents, so he could bring the car today. Not wanting to argue about that, you agreed to Yoongi's plan – making sure it's no bother which earned a certain type of look from him. Or was it a glare?

You've had the whole morning to think of your next step. Yoongi had left earlier than yesterday, the only difference is that he informed you about him having to leave very early. Something about his day being fully packed, so the only time he can bring your car is in the evening.

Your entire life is currently a big mess. What was supposed to be the happiest stage in your life, you're spending it at your brother-in-law's place with nothing. All your stuff is back at home. Home. Can you call it that?

Yeonseok has not contacted you yet. He's probably still upset over the argument and you've no idea what is going on inside his head. Not that you assume he has to contact you in the first place. Actually, you would be glad if he didn't contact you.

Eventually, the two of you will have to talk. You're not ready. Not after everything that has been replaying in your mind nonstop. Sleep is the only time when you have enough time to rest, and even that is never guaranteed.

One thing you know for sure, you can't stay here for too long. You don't want to overstay your welcome and despite what Yoongi told you on the phone yesterday, you just know he is going to want this place to himself eventually. Which means, you have to solve this with Yeonseok.

You do have money to stay at a hotel for the time being, but that's not a solution. Just a temporary one. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You're supposed to buy baby clothes and essentials, look around for a good crib and a stroller. Not being in someone else's home, invading their space and privacy and stressing yourself. On another note, it's safe to say that it is completely reasonable for you to stress. Who wouldn't?

The stress has completely invaded your life and while you're trying to keep your cool for the baby, it's bound for it to affect a thing or two. Like forgetting your appointment.

Good thing is that when you go to check your phone (while trying to give yourself a break from your never-ending stressful thoughts), a reminder pops up on the screen. You've never been one to set reminders on your phone. Just a quick note if there was too much for you. But you've started doing that since going on these appointments that included the baby.

Looking at time, you still have two hours to get there.

But that's where the problem comes. You're without your car, so you're forced to list through your contacts before you dial the only person you've been seeing for the past two days.

It rings too long to the point you get anxious. You could reschedule the appointment, but with how things have been going so far, you need the assurance that everything is fine with the baby. You haven't experienced anything alarming and concerning that could alarm you, but still. You don't want to neglect anything. If something happened, you would never forgive yourself.

Whilst in the middle of nibbling on your nails, a gruff voice you've grown to use to reach your ears.

“Um, hi. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're extremely busy today but–”

“What happened?”

“I'm such an idiot. I just checked my phone and my appointment is today. And you know, my car's not here and I could probably get there by a bus, but I don't know this neighborhood and I'm not sure if I could get there on time.” you quickly explain, not wanting to take much of his time.

You don't know everything about him, but he seems to be the type of person that gets annoyed when someone interrupts him while working.

If he is annoyed, he doesn't show it too much.

Or it's hard to tell because his usual stoic demeanor can be recognized even through the phone. “What appointment?” he sighs.

“With–with the baby.”

He stays silent for a moment, “What time is it?”

“It's half past ten.”

“I meant the appointment.”

“Oh,” you let out, chuckling at your mistake as you mentally facepalm yourself. But it's worth it, there's something like a huff of chuckle on the other line which breaks his usual demeanor you mentioned earlier. “In two hours.”

“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs a little, “Okay. I will drive you there.”

“You sure?”

“How else you wanna get there?” he asks, which shuts you up for a moment.

“I mean, that's true but you said you're busy. Maybe I could quickly check the buses and get to your address. My car's there. Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?”

“Stop,” You pucker your lips as you freeze, almost as if Yoongi is right there. “Don't stress yourself. Just get ready, I'll pick you up in like an hour and half.”

“Thank you.” you say, sighing in relief.

You imagine him nodding as he lets out a humming sound. He excuses himself before he ends the call. Your call falls down on your lap as you stare at the blank screen of his television. Ignoring the thumping of your heart from the entire call, you go get yourself ready.

Yoongi picks you up right on time, his car already parked in front of the building while you walk out of the entrance. When you get inside, you get a greeting in the form of a short nod before he puts the car into drive. Giving him location details, you nibble on your lip for a moment. His car smells like his cologne, mixed with cigarettes and mint. It's an odd scent. Despite you hating the smell of cigarettes, you don't seem to mind this mixture. Besides, the cigarettes' smell isn't that strong.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Filling up the silence, you feel like it's the right thing to do because you're not going to spend the rest of the ride in an awkward silence. Glancing at Yoongi, he looks anything but awkward. It's like he's in his own space, distancing from everything and everyone, closing himself off as he focuses on driving.

“Is this the moment where you apologize for bothering me?” he questions, a tilt of teasing in his voice as he says it with the most neutral face.

You stare at him, mouth agape before he briefly glances at you as he can't hold himself. His lips twitch slightly but you notice it right away. Breathing out a chuckle, you shake your head at him. Min Yoongi is freaking teasing you.

“I mean—you had to get here when you were working.” you point out.

Though, you weren't planning on apologizing, he's right in a way.

“But I insisted on leaving your car there. I insisted you drive with me.”

For obvious reasons, you think. Not that you want to admit it, but you're glad he didn't let you drive in the state you were in back then.

“You don't have your car thanks to me, let's end it with that, okay?”

“Okay.” you agree, turning your head to the window as you stare at the streets and people passing.

Once the road and surroundings become more familiar, the oddness of this all comes to sit in the pit of your stomach. Meanwhile you stare at the tall building you've grown used to, Yoongi finds a good parking spot. Once the engine's off and business of the surroundings can be barely heard through the windows, you reach for the doorknob slowly.

“You're gonna be fine from here?” he asks, not looking at you when you do glance at him.

When you don't answer right away, he glances at you before you can find the proper words to tell him that you will be fine.

“You don't need me to go there with you?”

Even if his tone is nonchalant as if he's asking the most basic stuff, he takes you by surprise and makes your brows shoot up. “You would go there with me?” you ask, sounding not totally sold on that idea.

Looking at him now, he already seems to be wanting to be in a different place. Not in front of a building full of doctors and inside with a bunch of pregnant females. Suddenly, the thought of seeing him there is a little laughable.

So because of that, you haven't even thought about him being there. Until he said it.

You do need to admit that you haven't been here alone ever since you got pregnant. Your OB/GYN is here, so you used to go here for check-ups way before that. Yeonseok was the one who joined you right after you got pregnant. Thinking of it now, you're reminded of how excited you were to go for these check-ups, not only to calm down your nerves if everything's right, but to see your baby. Even if you could hardly tell their body parts.

It became the thing between you and him. It's what most expecting parents do, but it became your special thing in a way. Something that you always looked for. Something you've always done together.

But now – it's the first time you're here alone. Yeonseok is not by your side and probably the most distant he's ever been in your life. That's on you though. It would be weird to ask him to come here, after everything that has been said between you and him.

“I would, if you want me to.” Yoongi replies, catching your attention and as you slowly shake yourself out of your thoughts, you remember what the conversation is about.

“Wouldn't that be weird for you though?” you ask, noticing you still have ten minutes before your scheduled check-up.

He doesn't respond at first, deciding to ignore that question as he sinks deeper into his seat. Elbow coming up to rest against the door, he uses his fingers to rub his chin softly.

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” he decides to say, “You're acting a little weird, that's why I'm asking.”

Clueless to what Yoongi's thinking, he thinks of one of the reasons that could potentially get you acting weird, at least one that's generalized and comes to his mind first. He doesn't even have to think about it too much. You're worried that something's wrong, right? Aren't most pregnant women like that?

Maybe it's better you can't read his thoughts, or else he would get a nasty look in return. You are a little bit more sensitive.

Should you just tell him? Again, you do not want to burden him in your shit any more than you already do. Telling him about Yeonseok would probably not only put him into a sour mood, but it would mean he would most likely try to understand you. You've figured out a long time ago that he's not bad at all.

Yoongi is actually a sweet person. Still in his way, but without a doubt, he is one.

Making a decision of just telling him instead, be honest and in a hope he won't think you want to be pitied, you lick your lips as you shrug. “It's because it is weird. Yeonseok used to come with me every time.”

He's silent for a moment, “And now he's not here.” he adds without you having to finish as you nod, confirming his thoughts.

“Which of course, doesn't mean you have to go with me.” you quickly correct whatever suspicion he might have.

But looking at him, he looks anything but suspicious. He nods, more to himself than to you or your words, shrugging. “I understand shit about pregnancy, but it probably feels lonely to go there alone, right?”

Well, damn. The look you give him makes him shrug.

“You don't need to pity me, Yoongi. It's not that big of a deal.”

“I still have to wait for you, right? Need to drive you back.”

“Well, it's up to you.” you mumble, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Around pregnant females?” he chuckles, “How bad can it be?”

“You can come with me, I think…” you nibble on your bottom lip, “I think I would like that.”

He nods.

“But only if you want to!”

By the time you're done talking, Yoongi's already unfastening his seatbelt, motioning for you to do the same. You can't believe you're doing this.

As you approach the building and navigate Yoongi where to go, you're not sure what's weird to begin with. The thought of going here all alone or the thought of Min Yoongi beside you.

What the fuck.

Pictures of vaginas, uterus and what it looks inside of women's uterus during pregnancy are everywhere. Don't get him wrong, he has seen a fair amount of vaginas and he's quite familiar with it, but not like this. It feels very… odd to be surrounded by a sketched version of it all. Obviously, he's never been in a waiting room like this one.

Sitting next to you soundlessly, he shifts on his spot as you seem to be immersed in your own thoughts. He has no idea why he agreed to this. While he knows you in no way forced him and perhaps you find a weirdness of his presence here as well, he just tried to do the right thing.

You've been through a lot and as much as he tried to distance from it all, he's got you in his home. Maybe he's not very upfront about it or too enthusiastic, but he does help people that seem in a need of it. Even though he doesn't look like he loves doing it, he just does. Is it important if someone loves or hates helping others as long as they do it?

Right next to him, legs crossed and fingers playing with your rings, you were right. There are couples, chatting silently with wide smiles as they can't see their little ones forming into a proper life. You were one of those people not long ago.

You don't allow yourself to feel guilty about it. You did what you had to do to make sure not to hurt yourself or others even more. Only time will show if it was the right decision, but for now, it feels like the best one you could've made.

On the other hand, you can't believe Yoongi is in a waiting room with you, staring obnoxiously at the image of a uterus. It's pretty laughable though.

Suppressing your laugh, you watch him stretch his legs as his arm rests in his lap. Ignoring the veins that mostly pop up because of the pressure of his posture, he makes himself comfortable. Does he find this weird too?

There is no way he has done this before in his life. Of course, he hasn't.

“You know,” you murmur silently, just for you and him to hear. He glances at you, giving you his attention but then again, maybe he's glad he doesn't have to stare at the picture any longer. “You don't have to go inside with me.”

As usual, he has no shocked reaction to it. “I didn't even think about it.”

You open your mouth, a little offended look that gives it away as he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I meant as I'll go and wait with you here.”

He tries to explain in his own nonchalant and informative way. Well, you can't get mad at that. Weirdly, you understand what he means.

Leaning back and trying to make yourself more comfortable, you hope they'll take you soon so he doesn't have to wait too long. Despite his usually calm demeanor, Yoongi does not look like the type to like waiting. Well, who does? But he surely has no patience for this. Even more so that he has a job that he needs to go back to.

Luckily, the door opens soon and the nurse you're familiar with calls you in. Some couples like to come early, probably too excited to not mind waiting it out here. Some of them are called as well, since there are more ambulances on this floor.

You grab your things before standing up, making your way inside as the nurse stops you. “Is the young man not going with you?”

Since Yoongi and you were sitting close together, there's a low chance he would be a stranger considering there are free seats on both sides of you. She asks long enough, looking at Yoongi with a welcoming and friendly smile.

“Ah, that's my friend.”

“We're only screening today. It's up to you though.” she reminds you, smiling widely. You would too if you had her paycheck. It's a private hospital after all.

Not trying to catch too much attention about something so… normal, Yoongi directs his eyes from the nurse to look at you. “It's up to you.”

“As long as you're comfortable with it, Mrs. Min. It was just a suggestion. I know some women bring their friends with them, no matter the gender.” she tries to joke, your smile tight and awkward.

“I'm a family friend.” Yoongi justifies, as if that makes it any better.

It's a look of realization that hits you and you watch it in horrification as her smile grows even wider. “Oh, yes! You do look very familiar. You must be Mr. Min's family, right? It's so lovely of you to come here!”

She's kind and clearly enthusiastic, you can't share it with her though. Staring at Yoongi in pure panic, he gives the nurse an unsure smile as he tries to make things clear – which is not like him at all.

“I'm his brother.”

You would've guessed he would just keep his mouth shut at Yeonseok's mention, not confessing his relation to him at that.

“Oh, come on then. Let's look at your niece or nephew.”

You close your eyes, ready to facepalm yourself in front of the entire waiting room as you embrace yourself. You're not sure whether you should laugh at the irony or cry in horrification.

Yoongi presses his lips tight, nodding awkwardly as he glances back at you, giving you the final decision.

“I'm okay with that.”

Despite the irony and awkwardness of this all, it would feel less lonely to be inside and look at the baby. Not thinking about the entire biology and blood related thing, Yoongi is a family. Whether we are speaking only metaphorically or taking biology into consideration. If he wasn't fine about it, he would say so, right?

You see he's a little unsure as he stands up, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as the nurse ushers you both come in. It's hard to decipher what's going on inside Yoongi's head. One thing's sure and that is he's nowhere in his field. He still walks in the room, trailing slowly behind you as another familiar room welcomes you.

Just as your doctor undoubtedly notices Yoongi's presence as soon as she looks up from the computer's screen.

“It's Mrs. Min's brother-in-law.” The nurse cheerfully informs your doctor, clearly unaware of how much more awkward she is making it for you two.

You can't be mad at her though. She doesn't know. Yoongi does send her a glare which causes you to inconspicuously elbow him when none of them are looking. He shrugs. After all, it is his fault he admitted his entire relation to you. If he kept his mouth shut and just went with being just a friend, it would be less awkward than this.

“It's nice to meet you! Let's look at the baby!” Mrs. Kim, the doctor, says as she stands up and motions for you to lay down.

Trying to shake off any discomfort, you lay down and look at Yoongi for a split second. He stays at the end of the bed, trying to look around as if watching the scene in front of him would make you entirely uncomfortable. It's not like he hasn't seen every inch of you.

Rolling up your shirt just as Mrs. Kim sits down on her stool and prepares the lubricant gel, you spot Yoongi giving you a side glance. His eyes suddenly turn into a big size, naturally finding the small but evident bump you just revealed.

You intertwine your fingers together and put them above your stomach, you try to stay calm.

“This will get slightly cold, you know the drill, Mrs. Min.” The doctor chuckles, squirting a proper amount of the gel onto your lower stomach.

Your attention is turned elsewhere, away from the man who seems so out of place at the moment. You focus it on the screen next to your head, recognizing the familiar sight and colors. However, this time everything's bigger and more visible which makes your chest tight and eyes tear up.

Whether it's your hormones or current situation that makes you so emotional, all the pressure suddenly leaves for a moment at the sight of your baby.

“Everything seems to be looking just alright, Mrs. Min,” she informs you with a smile, giving you a quick glance as she moves the scanner around your lower stomach. “Come closer, Mr. Min. Have a look.” she urges him, just like the nurse, completely oblivious to everything.

Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, almost ready to shake his head but when she turns to him with an encouraging smile, he sighs and comes closer. He leans forward.

“There is the head,” she explains to him just like she did to you and Yeonseok before. “And arms and legs.”

He stares, mouth agape. Straightening himself, he clears his throat and gives her a nervous smile. But it comes out crooked. You almost snort at that.

“The baby is on the smaller side.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you question immediately.

“Not at all, it's not anything abnormal or to be concerned about. It mainly depends on the parents.” she explains, calming you down which makes you sigh in relief. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“You can see that?” you almost jump, seeing her smile curve into a wider one.

“Mhm,” she nods, “It might not be a hundred percent accurate, you're still at fifteen weeks.”

“Wow, well–”

“We can wait for your husband if that's what you prefer.” she assures you, a sour taste coming into your mouth as you look at Yoongi.

“It's whatever you want.” he reminds you silently, the corner of his lips lifting.

By how things look with Yeonseok, you're not sure if waiting for him has any meaning. Fuck. You don't even know if he wants to be the father. How can you possibly just wait it out?

“We could do it on your next scan, it will be more accurate. But I can see it now and I'm eighty percent sure.”

Nibbling on your lip, you literally say fuck it in your head. “Tell me please.”

She chuckles, “From the looks of it, you're expecting a baby girl, Mrs. Min.”

A chuckle of disbelief and joy escapes your mouth, knowing whatever the answer would be, you would be just as ecstatic. It's just knowing the truth and more information about your baby is enough to make you a crying mess.

“I'm sorry,” you giggle, putting a palm over your mouth as you smile widely.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Min.” The doctor and nurse speak at the same time.

“Congrats.” Yoongi says, squeezing your ankle. You bite your lip, giving him a slight nod.

The doctor hands you the wipes and lets you wipe the lubricant off your skin. You're taken back when Yoongi offers you his hand when you sit up.

“We'll just draw your blood to run some tests and you're free to go.”

“Are you happy?” Yoongi asks silently once the doctor and nurse are nearby, but not enough to hear you two. The nurse is preparing the needle while the doctor writes the report to your patient card.

“I am,” you answer with a smile, “I still would be regardless of the gender.”

“A little girl.” he mutters, zoning out for a second.

“A little girl.” you confirm.

You both stare at each other until the nurse comes back and interrupts you, preparing you to draw your blood. “Are you good with needles and blood, Mr. Min?”

He cocks his brow at her, showing her his tattooed sleeve, popped out veins along with it. She blushes in return. She freaking blushes as she laughs a little. You watch the exchange with a deadpan look. He smirks, cockily shrugging when he notices your stare.

She draws your blood, handing you water after she's done just in case. After everything's done, you schedule another appointment before you're free to go. Happily clutching the printed ultrasound, you put it into your purse to keep it safe once you get inside Yoongi's car.

You're both silent, again, deep in your thoughts until the replay of what happened just a few minutes ago makes you ask. “Why did you tell her about being Yeonseok's brother?”

“Why? Should I have not?” he questions right back.

“I just didn't expect that. You're not exactly too keen on informing others about your relation to him. It just seemed odd,” you shrug, voicing out your thoughts. “It felt… awkward. Y'know, considering everything.”

Yoongi stays silent, lips in a thin line before he sighs. “I panicked.”

“You panicked?” you ask, laughing a little at that. “Because of what?”

“I don't know!” he exclaims, almost whining which makes you giggle. “She kept asking and I just didn't know what to say. Wouldn't it be weird for me to be there as your friend?”

“Hm, I don't think so,” you answer, “You heard her. Many friends come there. She doesn't have to know we're not friends.”

“Ouch,” he tries to play it off, clutching his chest as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are we not friends?”

“I don't know, you tell me. Bro in law.”

“You did not just call me that.” he cringes, causing you to laugh.

“You were the one who was adamant of being my brother-in-law instead of a friend.” you remind him cheekily, watching the way he looks away in embarrassment.

“I panicked.” he mutters rather grumpily causing you to hold your laughter.

After a moment of silence, you look at him again. “Thanks for going there with me. Inside too. It felt nice not having to do that alone.”

“I thought so.” He confesses.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you might feel lonely,”

You're not sure how to feel about that statement.

“And you're welcome.” he says, though his eyes stay on the road, distant and out of reach.

Delicious smell flows through Yoongi's home as soon as he opens the front door. After he drove you back to his place, he went to work and listened to Jimin's nagging of being a few minutes late. After today, he felt like he could handle anything so Jimin's scolding did nothing to him. Not that it did before but this time, he decided to ignore him instead saying; Well I'm here now.

Jimin, speechless and annoyed, stayed quiet and only shook his head at his boss and friend. What else for him was to do when Yoongi greeted the client and shut the door behind them, hiding from the entire world.

He loves his work. Partly because he's distracted and has no time to think about unnecessary things. Which came handy especially today.

While he was busy working, you don't have much to do. After staring at the scan for a few minutes and dodging your family's calls, you decided to hop into the nearest grocery store. It's been a while since you baked, you prefer cooking but you've been craving something sweet. At least that's what you told yourself, that's the reason why you decided to abuse Yoongi's kitchen. Not because you wanted to do something nice for him, as another thank you for being there for you.

You've no idea if Yoongi even likes cakes.

So when he suddenly appears between his living room and kitchen, at first you have no idea how to explain the slowly disappearing mess that you've tried to clean off before he arrives.

“I baked bundt cake,” you inform him, palm spreading and pointing straight at the fresh cake where steam still flows into the air. “I hope you like cakes.”

“Cakes are fine,” Yoongi mutters, watching you wipe off his counter right away.

“I'm sorry about the mess, I tried to clean it before you come.”

“'S fine.” he says, still standing in the same spot. He is not sure what to think of this.

You finish the last traces of any mess, the good smell, you hope, the only sign of baking remaining.

“Listen,”

You put the kitchen towel back to place, watching him with doe and curious eyes.

“I was thinking. Maybe you should get your clothes and stuff.”

You stare, Yoongi clearing his throat as he shakes his head.

“I meant from your home. You don't have much clothes here and it must be uncomfortable not having your things with you.”

“Are you asking me to move in, Min Yoongi?” you tease, trying to hide your natural reaction which you're not sure what exactly is.

He cringes but chuckles, “You're welcome to stay here.”

You smirk at his diplomatic response before any traces of amusement are gone, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “You're right. I probably should do that. The thing is–”

A sound of a doorbell rings through the apartment, your eyes meeting as soon as the sound reaches your ears. “Are you expecting someone?”

He shakes his head. His friends know better than to come unexpected, even though he wouldn't put it past them. Without saying anything, he leaves with a thoughtful look to get the door. Something sits in your stomach, perhaps feeling like something's bad coming.

You barely finish the thought when you recognize the voice of your husband, rushed and angry footsteps. It happens in a millisecond and he's revealed in the flesh, shoving Yoongi in the chest.

“Where is she?!” he asks, too upset to notice you first but the shock causes you to yelp in surprise, clutching your chest as you watch Yoongi shoving him back.

However, Yeonseok doesn't reciprocate as the sound coming from you makes his head snap in your direction. He straightens, shocked to see you here but then it turns into a knowing and pained look.

“Of course you're here,” he exclaims.

“Calm the fuck down.” Yoongi warns him. Yeonseok knows better than to react to that, too immersed in you, seeing you in his brother's kitchen. Eyes moving to the freshly baked bundt cake, the one you baked for him multiple times and that's when you see rage coming back.

“So you live here now?!” he yells, causing you to flinch as you can't move for some reason. You're frozen, unable to move an inch as you helplessly watch the scene in front of you. “Playing a happy family with the man that knocked you up?”

“Someone had to when you couldn't.” Yoongi snaps, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your palm slap against it, eyes fully wide.

Yeonseok lashes at his brother while you watch in horror as Yoongi is being pushed roughly into the wall.

“Stop!” you yell at your husband, already knowing where this is going. “I came to him! It's not his fault!”

“No, but he welcomed you with open arms, didn't he?” he seethes, clutching Yoongi's shirt in his fists as he throws you a nasty glare. “Waiting for this moment to piss me off and get back at me.”

You don't bother explaining to him that no, it didn't happen like that and from what you can clearly remember, he wasn't too keen on getting himself involved. Whatever it is, he still helped you in the end and that's what upsets Yeonseok.

“Yeonseok, listen to him,” you grit through your teeth, stepping closer as he refuses to look at you now that you're closer. “I had nowhere to go.”

“Bullshit!” he yells, Yoongi growling at him for raising his voice as Yeonseok only tightens his hold. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn't knock your teeth out right now.”

He is a maniac. Yoongi is a fucking maniac because he laughs in Yeonseok's face, not exactly fighting his hold as if the thought of Yeonseok coming even close to getting violent is a joke itself. Perhaps it is. You've never seen Yeonseok fighting or getting violent. You don't like it.

“Do it, if it makes you feel better.” Yoongi prompts him with a grin, another gasp yet leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi!”

Yeonseok growls at his brother, throwing Yoongi more into the wall as you cringe at the impact. However, the said man looks unbothered and completely loosen up, showing no resistance. This whole I don't care attitude just pisses Yeonseok even more, prompts him to act violent and upon his anger.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you, huh?!” he yells in his face. Yoongi only scoffs, looking sideways to shield himself from Yeonseok's loud voice hitting him right in the face. “Having my wife in this scrappy place of yours–you've waited for this opportunity.”

Yoongi scoffs, finding Yeonseok's accusation nothing but funny. “The wife you couldn't respect the moment she wanted to break-up.”

Yeonseok's mouth opens in a mild shock, his gaze momentarily falling on you as he stares in utter disbelief. You know how it seems. It's not hard to think what Yeonseok's thinking right now. His assumptions are proved right in his slightly hazy mind. It's not helping with his anger and pain at all. He thinks you really spilled everything to Yoongi. And while you were honest with his brother, it wasn't for some vile reason to hurt Yeonseok. You had to talk to someone and Yoongi would get it. He knows your situation.

“Aren't you two just lovebirds?”

“Yeonseok–” You sigh, exhaustion prominent on your face and voice.

“S–” He lifts his hand up to stop you. “Shut up.”

His audacity and the fact he has never spoken to you that way leaves you speechless. You're not able to react but there's barely any time to as Yeonseok seems unhinged, seeing red.

“Have you fucked her again? Huh? Have you enjoyed fucking her when she's still my wife? We were supposed to be a family. You ruined it.”

“You're delusional if you think I ruined your family.” Yoongi argues, scoffing once again as Yeonseok grunts and pushes him into the wall.

“Yeonseok, that's a serious accusation. I told you, I came here because I had nowhere else to go.”

“Bullshit!” he yells at you, spits of anger landing in front you as you frown.

“If you just let me explain–we need to talk. We could still be a family, it's you who said–”

“I know what I said Y/N,” Yeonseok cuts you off, voice angered and powerful. “But I knew you would come running to this–” He looks in pure disgust at Yoongi who only lifts his brow at him.

“You would what?” Yoongi pushes, “You would want a single mother?”

Yeonseok's face twists in another sign of betrayal and turns into anger. “And you would want her? Is that what you're saying? Take her then. Not so cocky right now, huh?”

Yoongi pushes into him, silently warning Yeonseok to keep his mouth shut. There's nothing you can physically do. You can barely move, watching and listening to the words closely as your heart cracks with each spiteful word your husband says. It's the shock of hearing him talking about and with you like that.

You're not innocent in this at all, but this could've been talked about when everyone's calmed down. Actually, Yoongi shouldn't even be a part of it. Whatever is talked about should be kept between you and Yeonseok. Yet again, you're reminded that Yoongi is currently in this position because of you and your mistake of coming to him.

“You can't be a father, Yoongi,” Yeonseok mocks him, “You just wanted her for a good fuck, is that it? You wanted to get back to me because you're a pathetic brother just as much as you're a pathetic son.”

“Yeonsoek, that's enough!” you yell, no longer keeping quiet but he ignores you, continuing to spit venom in Yoongi's neutral face.

“Try raising my kid–since you so much helped making it.”

You gasp, face twisting into a glare that's shooting at Yeonseok's back.

“Your kid?” Yoongi laughs.

“Yes, my kid.” Is the one argument Yeonseok doesn't let off.

“Let's see who the kid resembles when they're born.”

And that's the final line Yoongi gets to say with a smirk on his face, completely provoking Yeonseok to the core as he can no longer stand it. He growls before a punch is thrown at Yoongi's face, causing him to almost slide off the way. He catches himself and while you yelp, hands covering your mouth in a pure shock even though you should see it coming. You've never thought you would witness such a violence, let alone a fight shared between two brothers.

They've never had a good relationship. Though, you never expected them to come to the point where they actually fight.

Yoongi straightens himself, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth to wipe off a droplet of blood that is a result of Yeonseok's fists. Everything is silent for a second, besides the harsh breaths coming from Yeonseok's angered state and Yoongi's calm breathing. For a split second, you think everything ended. Literally.

But you would be delusional to think otherwise, to think they're done. Because one second you see Yoongi staring deadly at Yeonseok and before the older brother can react, Yoongi's fist meets Yeonseok's jaw in a loud crack, causing him to stumble into the kitchen counter. You gasp, yelling Yoongi's name as you try to catch Yeonseok, so he doesn't hit the edge of the counter. He shakes you off the moment you get to barely touch him, almost as if you burned him.

Frowning, you step aside.

“That's for every second you've disrespected her since you came here,” Yoongi spits at his brother, shaking his fist and bloody knuckles.

Yeonseok's too busy holding up his bloody nose. The sight makes your stomach churn, both in disgust and worry.

“And you fucking know you deserve much more.”

Yeonseok's eyes shut in pain, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off it. You watch it stain Yoongi's floor and you immediately cringe at the sight.

He would have a lot to say, preferably arguing back to Yoongi that it could be an endless fight. This has to end.

Yeonseok is barely in pain, holding himself bravely though as he straightens himself and stares at Yoongi before he moves it at you. “Fuck both of you.”

He storms out of the apartment, leaving not only a mess on Yoongi's kitchen floor and face, but in your heart too.

You're met with a warning glare the moment you press a little too hard. Though, the man in front of you remains silent as none of you dare to speak up. The cake is long forgotten, destined to be thrown away like most things in your life. Besides the blood still covering Yoongi's floor – even if it's just a few droplets – you've moved to his bathroom to take care of his wounds.

He argued not to but you insisted, throwing him a warning glare that made him agree.

“Are you okay?” he speaks up, breaking the silence as you toss away the disinfected cotton wool into the bin.

“Do I seem okay?” you question him, “What were you thinking, Yoongi?” you scold him, frowning once again as he opens his mouth before his own frown settles on his back then calm face.

“What was I thinking? I'm not the one who barged in here to pick up a fight.”

“You provoked him to hit you, don't tell me otherwise.”

“I won't let him speak to me or to you that way in my home.”

That's a valid point.

Yet you can't stop thinking that all of this could've been avoided if he just wouldn't provoke him.

“Yeonseok is not violent, he wouldn't have hit you if you kept your mouth shut.”

“So I'm the bad guy here?” Yoongi exclaims, closing his eyes as he rubs his forehead for a second. “He had it coming and I don't regret it.”

“Yoongi–”

“No. Maybe you're okay with him slutshaming and disrespecting you, but I'm not. I'm not gonna stand there and run his mouth just because he's a fucking pussy.”

“I'm not saying–I get that. But you literally pull on his infertility. That wasn't fair nor nice, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighs, staring at the ceiling to calm himself down. “That might be right. Wasn't exactly fair, but at that moment I didn't care. And looking at it now, I don't care now either.”

You stare at him in disappointment and sadness, leaning yourself against the sink as you hug yourself with your shaky arms.

Yoongi watches you, gaze softening. “I'm not perfect either, Y/N. I'm far from it actually.”

“I'm not okay with what he said either. But you don't see me hitting him.”

“He hit me first.”

“Yes, because you provoked him to. And you fucking know it!”

Yoongi stares before an amused smirk makes it on his face.

“Don't fucking look so pleased!”

He laughs, shaking his head before his smile slowly drops and you're met with soft eyes again.

“He would've left if we just–I don't know–but I'm sure there could've been no violence. He's hurt, Yoongi. I left him because I was no longer happy in that marriage. He's heartbroken.”

“Are you making excuses for him?”

“No!” you automatically argue.

“Sure sounds like it.” Yoongi scoffs.

You groan, rubbing the side of your face in frustration.

“You're here scolding me and raising your voice when he came here and insulted not just me, but you too. And you're still trying to understand him?”

“It's because I know why he feels like that! It doesn't mean it's right! This could've gone so differently–and you just kept going. I told you guys to stop–but you ignored me and provoked him–” You stop yourself, staring at Yoongi who just stands in the middle of his bathroom watching you silently. His brows lift up causing you to sigh in defeat. “I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because you're here.”

Yoongi stays silent for a moment, letting you drown in your frustration and regret. His point is proven, he has nothing else to say.

“Obviously I know he's not right either. What he did was stupid–he already came here angry and to see me here–” You sigh, sniffling a little as you turn around to grip the sink. You breathe through the urge to cry and break in front of Yoongi. “I know we talked about this but I should've never come here. This would not happen if I wasn't here.”

“Stop,” he stops you. Lifting up your gaze, you meet his eyes in the reflection of his mirror. “It's not your fault he acted like an asshole.”

“Yoongi, but in a way I provoked him too by coming here. By staying here.”

“That's messed up to think that,” he still argues back. “You know why you came here. Come on, we talked about this. Stop putting more blame onto yourself. He doesn't do it and you shouldn't either.”

“Because I know what I am saying is the truth.”

“It's your truth,” Yoongi points out, walking closer to you. “Know what I'm sayin'?”

You sniffle, “No.”

He laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the ends as his teeth are on full display. He turns you around by gently gripping onto your shoulder. You're stubborn, not wanting to face him as he nudges your chin to look up at him. His thumbs brushes underneath your eyes, preventing the tears sliding down your cheeks.

“You know, you're just stubborn.” he muses amusingly and softly, just like his sound is. “Now I'm going to wipe the mess in the kitchen and will make us some tea.”

You stare at him in disbelief, seeing him taking a few steps away from you. He turns his back to you, ready to walk out. But he stops in his tracks.

“And Y/N?”

You look at him with watery eyes.

“Don't think of running away.”

It's a simple sentence, a tiny bit teasing on his part and you barely manage to break a smile. He does not stay for any longer, taking care of the mess in his kitchen just like he said he would.

When you join him, you see him wiping the last remains of your husband's blood before his kitchen is just as new. Yoongi tells you to sit on the couch and turn on a movie. You don't argue even though watching a movie is the last thing on your wishlist. He joins you shortly after. The bundt cake sliced neatly on a plate, accompanied with two cups of tea. He munches on the cake throughout the movie, even offers you to eat but you shake your head at him, declining his offer.

He manages to eat all the slices, handing you a blanket when he sees you hugging yourself.

“Yoongi?” you speak silently throughout the movie.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

The side of your face pressed against the couch, you stare up at him. “For everything.”

“Are you getting sentimental for me?” he muses, turning it into fun and you realize, you prefer it that way. It loosens up the entire moment and situation, even if just a little bit.

“No, just thankful. I know it sounded like I blamed you, it was wrong of me. You were just here and I let my frustration out on you.”

He smiles, shaking his head as if silently telling you to let it go. “I told you I'm not perfect. I am to be blamed for a lot of things. But I don't regret it.”

“Even if your knuckles are cracked?”

A silent laugh comes from the side. “They're not fully cracked but yeah, even then.”

For the first time after the fight, you let a laugh out of yourself as well.

“Come on, you should go to bed. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

“Talk about it?” you question, swallowing down a yawn that wants to let out. He's right. You're tired and should go to bed.

“The clothes, you need to get them. I will go with you.”

You sit up, hair a little bit ruffled which makes Yoongi stifle back a laugh. “You will? You sure?”

“Yeah, I don't mind.”

He doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you to interact with Yeonseok, just in case he's there. Considering how shaken up you're from their interaction earlier, and yours too, you shouldn't go through that alone. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You've been through a lot while carrying a fucking human inside of you. That shit is mental.

He makes it sound easy, so easy that you just as easily agree and stand up to move to the bedroom. You linger at the edge of the couch, thinking about still having to change your clothes and take a quick shower.

“It's probably weird, especially after Yeonseok's outburst but you should sleep in the bedroom tonight as well.”

“Don't listen to him,” he says simply, “But are you sure though?”

“Yeah, I don't mind.” you repeat his earlier words, smiling at it which causes him to chuckle at your slight teasing.

“Fine, my back will thank you tomorrow.”

Laughing, you retrieve to the bedroom to get your sleeping clothes that consist of Yoongi's oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. God, you really need your own clothes.

While you're in the shower, Yoongi lets the movie continue without actually paying any attention to it. His knuckles slightly burn, the skin there trying to heal. A side of his jaw hurts but knowing Yeonseok's in a worse state makes it better. It's a little bit childish, he admits that but that asshole deserved it. He thinks he can just punch him and not expect a punch back?

His parents would curse the shit out of him. Regardless if Yeonseok was the first one to attack, Yoongi would be painted as the one that's violent because he fought back. Fuck. He can already hear their potential words so clearly.

You shouldn't have fought back.

It's your fault he's angry.

They've always seen him in a bad light. Partly, he doesn't blame them. He's always been more controversial and wild than his brother. The thing is it wasn't accepted in the family and was approached with a massive hit of criticism and negativity. Partly, Yoongi blames them for how he turned out.

Reaching for his phone, he dials Jimin's number without a second thought. He had enough time to think this through and know that he promised something, he can't change it. He would look like a total asshole. Plus, he doesn't want to change it. Somehow, you've grown to like him. It's embarrassing to admit, but seeing you in such a poor state makes him pity you. You would hate him for these thoughts, that much he knows.

“Bro, it's like night.” Jimin accepts the call with a scolding tone.

“I need you to take tomorrow's appointments.”

“Why? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, tone changing to a confused one. Yoongi has never canceled any of his appointments. A part of keeping his business good and professional, he always dedicated all of his time there. He's not surprised by Jimin's confusion.

“Yeah, I just have some errands to run and I won't be able to be there for a whole day.” He gives a brief explanation, not giving any details.

It's not like he doesn't want to share. Even though he's not a sharing type and keeps stuff to himself, he doesn't see any point in sharing a huge portion of your mess that is called life. It just doesn't seem fair at all.

“Dude, everyone's gonna be mad. They want you, you know that!” Jimin argues, panicking which is understandable.

Yoongi doesn't brag about it, but he knows most clients come to him for their tattoos specifically. Everyone in his team is good, he doesn't doubt it. But even they know how some people come to the studio specifically for Yoongi.

“I can't reschedule them, I'm fully packed.”

“Duh, I know that! What are you even doing Yoongi?”

“None of your business,” Yoongi answers calmly and casually, causing his friend to groan loudly into the receiver. “Just do it. If they don't wanna get tattooed, just give them back their deposit. Or reschedule their appointments, though they might wait months.”

“This better be worth it.” He hears him mumble.

“It's a family emergency.” It's the only explanation Yoongi offers him.

“Family? You don't care about your family.” Jimin points out the obvious, causing Yoongi to purse his lips slightly offended.

It's not like he doesn't care about them. Sure, he seems like it but it's not exactly the truth. He doesn't blame Jimin for thinking it though. He made it seem and obvious as if he doesn't care about them. In some fucked up twisted way, he does.

“Thanks, I owe you.” Yoongi ignores his previous words, not putting them any more attention than he already did by listening to them.

“You bet…” Jimin mutters under his breath, not having enough time to complain as his kind friend ends the call with that.

Later after he takes a shower while you're already in bed, he joins you. He thinks you're asleep but by the sound of your breathing and fidgeting, you're still awake.

“Can't sleep?”

You flinch a little, probably surprised by his sudden voice and the fact he's aware of you being awake. “It's the baby.”

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asks right away without thinking of it. He lays back, clearing his throat as he stares at the plain ceiling instead. The entire bedroom is swallowed in darkness, letting only moonlight in. He has noticed you prefer sleeping that way and he doesn't have the heart to close curtains.

“No,” you giggle, “She's just moving a lot. Sometimes even kicks me.”

“She… she does?” Yoongi asks, unsure. He has zero knowledge about babies. Let alone how it properly works inside a woman's uterus. It's pretty laughable because he's that clueless.

“Yeah, probably won't let me sleep for a while.”

“What a brat.” Yoongi mutters and you gasp, elbowing his side as he cackles at you.

“You did not just say that,” you exclaim, offended as he continues to laugh silently under his breath. “She's been an active baby lately.”

You've no idea why you're even telling him that. Something just wants you to fill up the sentence. You and him don't talk about the baby a lot. It seems like a taboo topic for understandable reasons and that's solely for not making it too weird.

Yoongi's quiet and while your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly see him fully awake with eyes open, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. You turn to your side, hissing when you feel a light kick in your ribs coming from inside.

“What are you thinking about?”

He doesn't look like he wants to answer, something holding him back. But then he probably seems awkward enough so he swallows, shrugging.

“My mom always said I moved a lot and shit like that. You know–like when she was pregnant.”

The hint of something that has been secretive but very obvious to you from the start causes your breath to catch in your throat. You've never openly talked about the baby being biologically Yoongi's. It's not something you can forget and despite not talking about it, you've been thinking about it almost all the time.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” he mutters. “Is that weird shit to say?”

“It's not weird,” you assure him softly. Kind of. “I actually find it interesting. If it… if it was a stranger I probably wouldn't know these things.”

“Forget about it, I was just babbling. It just reminded me of that when you said…”

“It's okay, Yoongi.” You laugh at that, feeling his embarrassment. It's practically seeping from him. “Thank you for that. I mean–I'm grateful for that information. Is that a weird thing to say?”

“No, unless we make it weird.” he states, voice different from the usual laid back Yoongi you know. It's kind of cute.

“Okay, let's not make it weird. Let's talk about something else.”

“Talk? You should sleep.”

“I can't when she's moving around so much.” you argue.

It's silent for a moment.

“Does… does it hurt?”

“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “But not so much yet. It probably will get worse once she's bigger.”

“God, why do women go through that?” he mumbles, causing you to snort.

“If your mother didn't go through that, you wouldn't be here.”

“What a lovely life that would be.” he hums thoughtlessly, while you choke back onto your laughter.

“Don't say that!” you scold him. “None of us have asked to be here.”

“True.”

Again, a little awkward silence is shared between you. Well, you're not sure it's purely awkward but you're both fully awake, not ready to fall asleep just yet. You don't know about Yoongi but…

You groan when the little baby growing inside you starts to move around again. You caress your stomach, feeling as if she has a hiccup. “I think she has a hiccup.”

He probably doesn't care, but you share that thought out loud.

“You can feel that?” He sounds confused.

“Yeah,” you nod. “You wanna feel it?”

He stays silent. And for a second, you're sure you've crossed a line and he will just go backwards, distancing from you and the entire situation.

Indeed, Yoongi feels a little awkward about your question. He has distanced himself, not wanting to admit the fact that you're indeed carrying a baby he helped conceive. It's a weird shit to think about. He can't think about it because it automatically makes him feel uncomfortable. He never had a plan to stay in contact with you.

He would never imagine sharing a bed with you, unless it was for a sex. And you had lots of it. Maybe not as much as he wanted but still.

If he knew you would be laying in his bed pregnant, he would probably never agree to this. As bad as it sounds.

This scares him.

But then he thinks of you and your perspective. He has no idea what your thoughts are, well some of them. But something about your innocent and sweet tone makes him rethink. You're here, after an awful day, not crying like he has expected you to do. He sees the light in your tone, one that's caused by the baby growing inside you. You're trying to be friendly, having just as friendly a conversation and Yoongi realizes – he's that for you.

A friend.

You need a friend. You've no one else to talk about it, not currently at least. You've distanced yourself from everyone else for understandable reasons, and he can relate to that.

“Won't that be awkward?” he questions.

“Not unless you make it to be.” you hit him back with his own words, the fact causing his mouth to twitch.

“Okay, sure. It's a one time experience anyway.”

You snort, “You make it sound as if you won't ever meet a pregnant lady.”

“I've met a few but never had an urge to touch their belly. That shit's weird.”

Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Maybe in the future, you will.”

“Future?” he asks, completely confused.

“Maybe if you're gonna have a wife or a girlfriend.” you say, slightly unsure of this topic. Is it okay for you to talk about this? Either way, it's too late to not answer his question anyway.

After all, this specific topic shouldn't be weird.

“I don't want kids,” he informs you, carefully but sternly at the same time. “So that's not happening.”

Sighing, you don't argue about that. If he accidentally gets someone pregnant, he won't be able to control that aspect but you don't remind him of that. He seems stubborn and determined about this opinion of his. And you respect it.

It's silly and you shouldn't have the right to feel this way, but you feel slightly saddened that he's so keen on telling you he doesn't want kids. Even though you've known that for a long time. It's a reminder that he does not want to have anything to do with the baby inside you. It's nothing new but somehow that thought still doesn't sit with you well.

Instead, you swallow all those feelings and take the duvet off your body.

“Whatever,” you murmur nonchalantly. “Give me your hand.”

He does, without question. You try not to think about how warm and big his hand feels. You ignore the little fluttering butterflies that set in the pit of your stomach and inside your chest. Your baby is not to be blamed for.

You move his hand on your stomach but not before pulling up your shirt. You're starting to feel too warm anyway. This way he'll be able to tell the movements more clearly.

“You feel it?” you ask, holding his hand as soon as it's placed over your swollen stomach.

“No? I ain't feel shit.”

You giggle, “You're an ass.”

But then, a sudden kick is sent next to Yoongi's hand. It wasn't a direct move under his palm but he had to feel it regardless. A surprised Oh makes it out of his mouth.

“That's so weird,” he mumbles thoughtfully.

Then she continues again, her little movements more recognizable and becoming slowly familiar to the man laying next to you.

“She's so active.”

“She is,” you hum, slowly letting go of his hands. He lets it rest there for a moment, taking the cue as he pulls it away slowly. “Could let me sleep now though.” You try to play it cool and calm down your racing heart.

Pulling the shirt back down and covering yourself with the duvet, you're trying to act cool like before.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, taken back. “It's weird to think there's another person inside you.”

“Tell me something about it,” you chuckle. “I've wanted to get pregnant for a long time. But nothing could've prepared me for the way it feels. It's weird, I can't describe it.”

He surely can't understand what you're talking about. You don't want him to. You just let your thoughts run free. Some part of you wants to confess those thoughts to Yoongi. Another weird thing to say, but he's like a safe place in a twisted way. You can be honest, even though you're slightly sheepish about it. You can confide in him.

You think he has no idea what he means to you. And even if it's just for a certain time being, you're grateful for it regardless.

Before you know it, the movements stop and you're finally allowed the tiredness to come in. You slowly drift to sleep, clueless to Yoongi being fully awake as he stares at the ceiling with the weirdest feeling all over his body.

It's not as if morning is any better. Surprisingly, you haven't had that much trouble sleeping and you barely woke up. Yeonseok hasn't haunted you in your dreams either, which made it more enjoyable and comfortable. You were too exhausted last night, so a good sleep made it better for you to see today's morning in a better light.

Yoongi's still asleep, his alarm hasn't ringed yet and you wondered if you should wake him up. Maybe he forgot to set up his alarm, but something tells you that's very unlikely.

After you've washed your face and teeth, you decided to give him a few minutes and will try to wake him in case he has really slept in. However, the aftermath of yesterday's events and your good sleep, a cause of your positivism, doesn't last too long when your phone rings.

At first, you don't think much of it. Your father calls you from time to time, he has to when you suddenly go silent. Using busyness as a great excuse when you've been anything but that. He doesn't know that which makes the lie more believable.

As you get to hear his raspy voice again, you expect him to start the same way.

How are you?

Why haven't you called?

But none of that comes as he sounds nothing but concerned, even a little skeptic.

“Y/N, is everything okay with you?”

That alone should alarm you and it does, but you remain cool and voice your confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn't I be?”

“Don't lie. What's happening there?”

He doesn't sound upset, he sounds more worried than anything else. “What do you mean? I'm fine.”

“Really? Because Yeonseok called us yesterday, well today, he kept saying something about you sleeping with his brother?”

You freeze, shame washing over you like the coldest bucket of ice.

“Is that true?”

“Dad, I promise you–It's nothing like that.”

Perfect. Thanks Yeonseok a lot.

“He was also wasted, could barely talk. Called us like two in the morning.”

Sighing, you sit down as you grip your phone tighter. It seems like you can't have a rest for at least one day. Everything keeps biting you in your ass when you think things are getting better. It fucking sucks.

“We're going through a rough patch right now.”

“And you broke up with him?”

“I–technically yes but it wasn't like that. I promise you, it's nothing like that.” you telling, aiming at Yeonseok's accusation that might not be a complete lie but you know how it sounds.

“Then how is it?”

“Dad, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry Yeonseok woke you and Barbara,” you say, mentioning his longtime girlfriend who's like your step-mom. You know she's just as worried. You're surprised she's not the one that called. “He has a hard time dealing with our break-up.”

“He said you're staying at his brother's, is that true?”

One thing about your father is that he never really got into your business. If he was curious or even nosy, he never let it known because he respected everyone's space and privacy. So to have him question you like this means he's truly worried and the call he received from your still husband has made him alarmed.

“Yes–”

“So it's true? Y/N, have you cheated on him?”

“God, no!” You exclaim loudly, taking a deep breath as you release it in a form of loud sigh. Technically you haven't. “I haven't cheated on anyone. Look, it's really complicated. I had nowhere else to go.”

“Nowhere else to go? You could've come here.”

You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “I know but I didn't wanna bother you with our issues. Yoongi is familiar with it, so I just decided to come here. It's just for a few nights, I will figure it out. Don't worry.”

“How can I not worry when I found out from my son-in-law that you're not living at home? And that you live with his brother instead?”

“He's not exactly the perfect husband you have him for, dad.”

“What do you mean by that? Did he hurt you?”

“Not like that,” You shake your head. “I had a share on it too. None of us are innocent. Look, all you have to know for now is that I'm okay. I need to figure this out on my own. You've nothing to worry about.”

“You can't just tell me you live somewhere else with Yeonseok's brother, and tell me not to worry!”

“Listen, dad. I love you but I'm very close to hanging up. I understand you're worried but you're not exactly helping me with freaking out. I told you I'm fine, so please trust your daughter instead. I'll handle it and I'll talk about it when I'm ready.”

Well, you're not sure if you should tell him the entire truth. The thought of that is embarrassing and completely uncomfortable. You're not going to tell your dad that you've slept with another man just to get pregnant. Even if Yeonseok agreed to it.

Overall, you would spare him the details.

“But you're pregnant. You're carrying his child. You can't just leave and not talk to him.”

“Oh, I talked to him. He's not as interested in being a father as he was.”

“What?!” He yells into the phone, causing you to cringe at his shocked and upset tone. “He said that?!”

“Along the lines,” you mumble, “Don't worry, I'm doing fine. So is your granddaughter.”

“G-granddaughter?”

That finally gets his mind off Yeonseok. “Yes. I had it confirmed yesterday.”

He sighs, chuckling on the other line. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Y/N–”

“Dad–please.”

He sighs in defeat. “Okay. But promise me you'll call if you need something.”

“I always will, dad. Please don't worry.”

Eventually, you end the call. Just as your phone is being tossed onto the counter, Yoongi sleepily steps into the kitchen with bed hair and narrowed eyes. “Why were you yelling?”

“It's nothing.”

“Y/N…” Yoongi warns, narrowing his eyes through his tiredness.

“It was my dad. Yeonseok called him drunk last night.”

“Fuck,” That has him waking up as he stares you down. “What did he say?”

“That I cheated and I'm staying at your place.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not much,” you admit, “I don't want him to worry.”

“He's a fucking idiot.”

“Yoongi…”

“No, he is.” He insists, rubbing his chest tiredly as anger twists his puffy face. He looks cute, even with the tattooed sleeve that's on full display.

“He was drunk,” you point out. “Surely angry and upset.”

“I'm surprised he didn't run to mommy and daddy.”

“Shit,” you exclaim. “What if he did?”

“Would it matter?” Yoongi questions.

You stare at him as if he grew two heads. “Of course! What would they think of me?”

“You really care about that?”

“If he told them the story that I cheated on him with you, I do care!”

Yoongi sighs, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his chest. “We know it's not the truth. Not exactly. And we will explain that to them if it ever came down to it.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is,” he argues. “And there's no need for you to worry about it too much, alright?”

You give him Really? Look.

“If he called your dad, I really doubt he got our parents involved. Knowing them, they would call or barge in here right away.”

“You think?”

“Oh, I know.” he hums. “So don't worry and get yourself ready.”

That's right. You're supposed to get your clothes today. But you thought it'll be later on, probably when he gets back from work or over his lunchtime. You just need to get your things. It shouldn't take too long.

“Are you not going to work today?”

“No, I have a day off.”

“Really? You never mentioned anything about having a day off.” you wonder, staring at him straightening himself as he stretches his arms, shrugging.

“Didn't think it's important.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “What if he's there?”

Yoongi watches you for a moment, “That's why I'm going with you.”

“I think that will piss him even more if he sees you there.”

“Should I not come?”

You shake your head, “That's not what I meant. I just–I don't know what's right or not anymore.”

“It's true, maybe he wouldn't get so angry but there's no guarantee he won't get verbal again. I just don't think you should go through that alone.”

Something about his words make your chest warm, an appreciative smile beaming on your lips but you shake yourself out of it as a smirk replaces it. “Are you starting to care about me?”

What you get in return is a mixture of a chuckle and smirk. “I'm serious, Y/N,” he says, more seriously. “I'm going just in case he needs another punch.”

“Please, don't say that.” Your smile drops.

“I can't promise anything but I'll try to be on my best behavior.”

“Somehow, that doesn't go along with you.” you tell him with suspicious eyes as he smirks.

“You're gonna have to wait and see.”

“No fights.” you warn him, lifting up your finger at him to make yourself clear.

“Okay, mom.”

“Ew.” you cringe, walking past him but not before slapping his chest. “Keep it down.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

You walk back into the bedroom, to change your clothes and get yourself ready with an unbelievable smile on your face. You fight the sheets neat and made, a fresh air filling the bedroom that has become too familiar to you.

With a lighter feeling in your chest, you prepare yourself for what's about to come.

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi fanfic #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #bts au #yoongi smut #personasintro

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months

Text

Nobody Needs to Know

Pairing: EddiexFemReader

Request: eddie x henderson fem!reader having sex and dustin catches them 🫣

No worries. Dustin doesn't see anything. I could never traumatize that sweet kid like that. He just surmises what happened after the fact. I took a little liberty with the story since this was all I had to go on. 😉

18+ ONLY

Your fingers wrapped around the folded piece of paper that had been slipped into your locker, a tight lipped smile crossing your face, knowing exactly who had slipped it in there. You unfolded the lined notebook paper, reading the handwriting that had become so familiar these past months.

Meet me in the janitor’s closet

Eyes darting around you to make sure no one else noticed, you slammed your locker shut, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. Your feet hurried, heart pounding, your body eager to get there even as your head was telling you this was stupid. You were going to get caught. You couldn’t keep sneaking around with him like this, but fuck if it didn’t make it that much hotter.

You glanced around once again to make sure no one was around and pushed the door of the closet open. It was pitch black but you were hesitant to turn on a light, not wanting the beam to shine under the door and give away that someone was in here. You paused, holding your breath, wondering if you’d made a mistake when a hand shot out, grabbing onto your wrist. In one swift motion, your other wrist was grabbed, hands pinned above you, your back pressed against the door.

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy in that little skirt, princess,” a low voice rumbled in your ear and you pressed your thighs together as desire pulsed through your center. “Sitting there in math class, tapping that pencil, crossing your legs…all that skin…”

“That sounds like your problem,” you managed, attempting to sound more in control than you felt at that moment. “Maybe you need to work on your self control, Eddie. Don’t you have enough girly mags at home to help care for your poor little male urges.”

“Oh, we’re mouthy today, huh? Let’s shut you up, shall we?”

His mouth collided with yours, a mashing of tongue, lips, and teeth as he circled your wrists with the fingers of one hand. The other was sliding up your skirt, along the skin of your inner thigh. You moaned, pressing toward him and he chuckled.

“Not so mouthy when it’s your urges that need taking care of, are you?”

“For the love of Christ, shut up. All you do is…” you muttered but were quickly cut off by the whimper that fell from your lips as Eddie’s fingers dipped under the side of your panties, running teasingly along your slit.

You and Eddie had been sneaking around for two months, meeting in his van, the drama room, the janitor’s closet, the spot in the woods where he always met people to make his sales. It started as a drunken mistake and spiraled from there because no matter how much you told yourself that this was bad idea, that you needed to stop, your body fucking craved him. He was a drug and you were hopelessly addicted.

Two of his fingers pressed into you and you bit your bottom lip hard to keep from announcing to the whole school that you were getting finger fucked by Eddie Munson. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were in the band. You were top in your class. You had big plans to go to law school after graduation, having gotten into one of the top colleges in the country. Eddie was a horrible distraction you didn’t need but damn it, you wanted it. Not to mention he was your brother, Dustin’s, best friend and that was just awkward as hell. Dustin would never shut up about it if he knew what was going on.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No insults to throw my way,” Eddie teased, curling his fingers, making your legs shake. “No. You can put me down all you want, princess, but at the end of the day, you keep coming back because you want this. You love all the dirty little things I do to your body.” His tongue painted a line along the side of your neck, his thumb making circles around your clit. “You want my fingers pressed inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths.

“You want my mouth all over your skin…”

“I do…” you whispered, your head falling to the side as he licked and nipped at the flesh on your neck and collarbone.

“Yeah, you do…” His fingers left you and in the pitch black, you heard the sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. You heard the familiar crinkle of the condom wrapper and something deep within you coiled tightly in anticipation. Eddie hooked under your knee with his arm, opening you fully to him. “And you fucking love when my cock is buried deep within this pussy. Come on, princess. Use that mouth to tell me how badly you want this.”

Your breath caught, body wound like a goddamn rubber band, just ready to snap. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but damn it, you wanted him. You wanted him to take you hard and fast in this closet and he knew it. Eddie had caught on pretty quickly that you wanted this just as badly as he did.

“I mean…if you don’t want it…” he said slowly, his arm slipping out from under your leg.

“Fuck…I hate you,” you growled.

“You might hate me but you don’t hate the things I do to you.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, picturing that little crooked smile.

He had no idea how right he was, how many times you’d laid in your bed imagining it was him touching you. He had no idea how often you snuck glances at him throughout the day, drumming his pencils and doodling in class, his loud antics in lunch, the way he sauntered through the hallway, all that wild hair billowing behind him. Eddie Munson had consumed you in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“Fine, you want me to say it?” you relented. “I want your cock, Eddie. I fucking love your cock and I want you to fuck me right up against this door until I can’t walk straight.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

He held your leg and slammed into you forcefully, rattling the bottles on the shelves. You let out a cry of pleasure before remembering you were in school. Eddie’s free hand clamped over your mouth as he sent your body smashing against the wood of the door again and again.

“Is this what you wanted?” Eddie demanded and all you could do with his hand over your mouth was nod. “Yeah. You put on a show for everyone else, the sweet good girl who never breaks the rules but you only let me see the real you, don’t you? The dirty, feral little beast inside that wants to break loose.”

You’d been with guys before but none of them had ever been like Eddie. They went through the motions, fumbling with your bra, fingers prodding you but never finding the right spots. Eddie found the right spots every damn time. You worked so hard to be what your parents expected, what your teachers expected, what this whole damn down expected. The only time you really felt like you could let go, like you could stop trying so hard, was when you were with him. He brought out a side of you that you hadn’t even known existed.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he lifted your leg higher, allowing him to go deeper. He slowed the pace, keeping you on the edge but not quite letting you tumble off just yet. Your leg shook beneath you and you gripped Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling to the floor.

“Come on princess…it’s just me and you in here. You don’t have to pretend with me. Let that freak flag fly, baby. Just let go for me,” Eddie urged. “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

A scream clawed its way from your throat, the only thing stopping it from ringing through the hall of Hawkins was Eddie’s hand muffling the sound. Your nails dug into his flesh as your orgasm ripped through you, sending shockwaves of pleasure from your head to your toes that had your whole body humming, vibrating with ecstasy and relief.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, never ceasing his thrusting, his hand leaving your mouth to grip your other hip, helping you stay upright as he followed, fingertips leaving marks on your skin. “Fuck…”

Eddie slid from inside you and you heard the thunk of the condom as he tossed it in the trash can. You moved to reach for your panties but he was already there, pulling them up your legs. His hands came to either side of your head, caging you in.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “You got what you wanted.”

“Nah, not everything,” Eddie replied and his lips were on your skin again. But this was different. It wasn’t urgent and demanding. It was soft and affectionate, completely throwing you off balance.

“Seriously…” you said softly, a nervous laugh bubbling up within you. “Eddie, what are you doing?”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“Go out with me,” he repeated. “Look, I know all this cloak and dagger shit has been fun, but I want more. I want to take you out for a damn burger. I want to see a movie with you. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and leave you notes in your locker that aren’t just meetup time for secret sex. I mean, I still want to do that too but I want more than just this…what do you think?”

“I…Eddie…” you began, your brain struggling to catch up to what was happening.

“Just forget it,” he huffed, pushing off the door and away from you. “I get it. It’s fun to have the freak as your dirty little secret but you don’t actually want anyone to know you’d sink that low, right?”

“No. That’s not what I…”

“Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Of course the perfect little straight As princess doesn’t want to get dirty dating the drug dealing loser.”

He wrenched open the door, almost knocking you over in the process. You darted after him but you both stopped at the sight of Dustin Henderson. He was leaning against the wall, a shit eating grin on his face as he took in the sight of the two of you, hair probably a mess, coming out of the janitor’s closet together.

“Holy shit! I knew it!” he yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I mean, I didn’t but I knew something was going on! You two have been so weird lately! Wait! Were you two…oh gross!”

“Shut it Henderson!” Eddie growled, shoving past him.

“Eddie…” you began but he was flying down the hall, moving as quickly away from you as he could.

“Oh damn…did I interrupt a lover’s quarrel or something?” asked Dustin.

“Or something…” you muttered, grabbing your backpack from the floor of the closet and trudging off to History, needing to get away from your nosy ass brother before he could give you the third degree. It felt appropriate because that was what you and Eddie appeared to be now, history.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #smut requests #request

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charmedreincarnation · 5 months

Text

Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #reality shifting #shiftblr

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lokischocolatefountain · 11 months

Text

Sundress

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)

She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.

It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.

It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.

“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.

All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.

Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.

“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.

“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”

“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”

“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.

“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”

“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.

“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?

“Yours.”

“Mhmm?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”

He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.

“Rude!”

“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.”

“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”

“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.

It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.

“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”

“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”

“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.

“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.

“Around all the posters of half naked women?”

“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?

“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.

“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”

“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”

He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”

“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.

“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.

“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.

“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.

Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.

“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”

“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”

“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.

“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”

“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.

Or not.

Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.

“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.

“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.

“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.

“Worth it for this pussy.”

He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.

Life was good.

Series Masterlist

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

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Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 7

You just have to trust him one last time.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Brat Tamer!Jungkook, kinda himbo!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst, minor injury, emotional kook, some lore [Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Back home, he’s pacing.

He’s broken a plate in the sink while doing the dishes, cut his hand a little because of it, and he doesn’t know where you’ve put the first aid kit. And he also doesn’t want to text you and ask you because if he’s annoying you then he’s only gonna make it worse for himself to get on your good side again, and you’ll also scold him for being clumsy again.

So he just puts a random bandaid on his hand, and moves to vacuum the floors.

His plan is to have all the chores done by the time you get home, so that your mood will be good and he can work on falling into your favor again. He hopes that you’ll just stay over at your friend's for one night, that you’ll text him soon to ask him to pick you up- so that he can show you that the time of torture is over now, all of his work sent out and work email and phone now on vacation mode. He’s all yours again-

And he’s just waiting for you to be his again as well.

You’ve not really talked to him besides a morning game of battleships while he was eating bland cereal (because the milk tasted weird and he didn’t know if it was bad or not- and you weren’t there to ask), and that’s fine. Well it’s not really fine, but he accepts it as maybe your way to get back at him. And it’s a relatively small price to pay, considering the shit he’s pulled you through- just as long as you return to him.

He’s tripping over the cable of the old vacuum and almost falls face first onto the floor, just to catch himself on the edge of a table, causing the cable to tighten and pull the plug out of the socket. And in an odd way, the sudden silence makes him feel like he’s drowning. Usually, especially on a day like this, you’d both be running around the house to see who can get their shoes on first just to not be the one who’s gonna pay for the food you’re about to get. Or you’d both be still tangled in the sheets in bed, still drowsy from sleep and the exhaustion from your usual indulgence in love prior to falling asleep. Or you’d have some music on while folding laundry, jumping around in nothing but panties and another stolen shirt of his.

But you’re not here. What if that’s how it’s going to be from now on? Forever?

He’s biting his lip to prevent himself from becoming emotional again as he sits down in his office, opening the drawer underneath. Your present is still in there, safely tucked away in a fancy little box, and he just hopes that you can understand why he went through this with you the way he did. Growing up, he’s always been fed with this obsession of success, that if he’s not the one doing the sole work himself, then he’s not allowed to call his success his own. With a father in a law firm, a brother running a multi-million worth business, and a mother that owns several restaurants, he’s basically always been the black sheep.

Tattooed, pierced, designing his stupid games all day, and with no very impressive wealth to show for himself, he doesn’t have the best relationship with his family, if any at all. So he just became a husk, and accepted any form of love he could get- fucking around until he met you-

Someone who didn’t care. Someone who liked him just the way he was, with all his flaws and odd habits and frustrating traits. You challenge him, you’re not treating him like a stupid failure, you make sure he knows his worth despite the big gap between him and his brother for example. And maybe that’s what made him so attached to you over the course of time- he just can’t imagine a life without you anymore, because especially now, he notices how much he needs you.

And it’s not about the chores, or about the fact that you constantly save him from food poisoning- it’s your presence.

“Urgh!” He yells out, hands on his face as he presses the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“What’re you yelling for?” Your voice rings out, and he immediately slams the drawer shut, movement of his body stiffening up so quit that he crashes his knee into the underside of the desk, shaking everything on it, as he hisses but gets up anyways, limping towards you to pull you close. “Kook-“ you mumble muffled against his shoulder, but he just sways you around from left to right, head buried in the crook of your neck.

“Welcome home-“ he rambles, moving to kiss your cheeks before he freezes, wide eyed. “-fuck I should’ve asked if I could kiss you right? Shit babe I’m sorry-“ he rants, and you roll your eyes, running your hand through his slightly greasy hair.

“Its fine. Why’s the vacuum thrown around like a murder victim though?” You ask, detaching yourself from him as you move to pick it up and roll up the cord of it.

“I..wanted to do the chores before you came home. Which by the way-“ he says, following you around like a lost puppy. “-why didn’t you ask me to pick you up? It’s cold outside..” he whines, and you shrug.

“Gave me some time to think.” You say, and at that, he tenses up. “Jungkook.. I..” you sigh, before you turn around to face him. “I still don’t know why you’ve been like this and it really hurt me-“

“I can tell you now!” He rushes out. “Like, not all of it but most of it- enough of it, I promise!” He presses.

“I don’t want you to make up shit. If you don’t like me like that anymore-“ you begin, but he shakes his head, frantically pulls you closer to hug you.

“Don’t ever think like that. I love you, I really do..” he mumbles against the top of your head. “And I’ll prove it to you, promise.” He urges.

“How?” You meekly ask, unable to resist snaking your arms around his torso as well.

“Just trust me one last time.” He whispers, and it sends a chill down your spine just how serious he sounds.

“I promise it’ll be worth it.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

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aromanticbuck · 10 days

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AITA for maiming my best friend?

I (32M) have known my best friend, E (32M), for about 6 years. We met through work when he started at my firehouse, and we kind of clicked by the end of our first shift. These are long stories, but I help him out with his son, C (13M), a lot, I take C to the zoo regularly, and we (C and I) got caught in the tsunami a few years ago when we went to the pier for the day. E has me in his will to take custody of C if anything happens to him. When I say he's my best friend, I mean he's like family, and we've been family for a while.

Last month, our team kind of borrowed an LAFD helicopter to save our captain and his wife when their cruise ship was capsized (yeah! that cruise ship!), so my future brother-in-law called an old buddy of his, T (45M), who's a helicopter pilot to fly us into a hurricane. T is super cool! He's a pilot, and he used to be at my firehouse before I got there, and he used to be in the army (like E!), and he likes karaoke and trivia and basketball and Star Wars.

E and T got really close after we did the helicopter rescue. T flew E to Vegas for a fight that he got ring-side tickets for (which meant T couldn't go out to get a beer with me, even though I think he wanted to). They went to a karaoke trivia night together. And when E was telling me about it, I kind of thought he was going to invite me, too, but he just asked me to babysit C for him that night instead. I love C, he's a great kid, but I was kind of sad I didn't get to spend time with my best friend.

When I was babysitting C, I saw E's day planner on the fridge. Underneath a take-out menu, there was something written in for this Thursday - "B.B.P.U. w/ T" - basketball pick up game with T (my sister made me explain it to her) - and it was CIRCLED - but it's this game that first responders have every other Thursday. E has asked me to go a few times, but I don't like basketball so I always say no.

Anyway, C kept talking about T all night while we ate dinner and played videogames. And T apparently lied to C about his favorite Star Wars movie to make C like him more??? Which should be illegal.

So I asked my BIL to go to the basketball game with me, and he kept asking why I suddenly like basketball (I don't like it, it's a stupid sport), all the way to the court. E teased me, too, but that's just what E does. But we played basketball against E and T and the rest of their team, and I wasn't doing too bad. And then E and T high fived a lot and were acting like they're best friends, even though E is my best friend, not T's, and I got frustrated.

I accidentally (?) knocked E over when he was going for a basket. My BIL said E sprained his ankle and was lucky I didn't break his leg when I knocked him down.

My sister says I was acting like a 14 year old girl, and I know she's kind of right. But it wasn't on purpose, I don't think.

AITA?

UPDATE: apparently I like guys???

UPDATE 2: a lot of the comments think I'm in love with E. no, he's just my best friend! T kissed me. we have a date on Saturday.

#evan buckley #evan buck buckley #buck buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #tommy kinard #kinkley #bucktommy #911 #911 on abc #911 fic #maddie buckley #chimney han #christopher diaz #7x04 was objectively funny and these are really fun to write #alex writes things

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2

Summary: You're determined to figure out why Eddie hates you, and he's more determined to avoid you at any cost. But confrontations with Jeff and Wayne may have him reconsidering all of his choices--including the one to become a father. How long can he run from his demons before they catch up to him?

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of drug dealing, mentions of Eddie's dad, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 5.9k

Chapter 2/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

“He called you what?” Jess screeches, and you have to pull the receiver from your ear to avoid losing your hearing. “Oh, he’s a dead man.”

You place the phone back between your shoulder and cheek so you can stir the pot of marinara sauce while talking to your friend. She’d called to ask about your first day of work, and of course you’d mentioned Eddie’s frigid bitch comment. “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a grown man who promises to call and then basically drops off the face of the Earth,” you say, trying to keep your anger at bay. There’s murmuring in the background coming from a voice deeper than Jess’s. “Do you have company? Because we can talk later–”

“Nah, I’m just at Viv and Jeff’s place.” Before you can tell her not to say anything, you hear her spreading the news to her sister and future brother-in-law. The girl’s a sweetheart, but she spreads news faster than the New York Times.

There’s the sound of shuffling and the phone being exchanged between parties, followed by Jeff saying, “Please tell me that you’re joking.”

“About being called a frigid bitch? I’m afraid not,” you confirm with a terse chuckle, draining a pot of spaghetti into the colander. “But, honestly, it’s really not a big deal. I’ve been called worse.”

Jeff’s quiet for a moment before he replies. “He’s such an asshole. Christ.” You detect a note of sadness in his tone, almost grief, like he’s mourning someone he thought he knew.

“Look, I shouldn’t have called him out on that stupid Cat and Mouse thing,” you say. “I should’ve just let it go, put a smile on my face, and acted civilly. I only said it to piss him off, and it worked.”

“No, this is more than you,” Jeff protests, letting out an exasperated sigh. “He never used to be like this. He used to actually be a great guy.” It sounds like he has more to say, but he just blurts out, “I gotta go,” and quickly hands the phone back to Jess.

The two of you talk for a few more minutes until the sauce on the stove starts to bubble, indicating that dinner’s ready.

“Grandma,” you call out, “it’s dinnertime!”

Your grandma pads out of her bedroom, hair disheveled even though you’d just combed through it this morning, and wrinkles her nose. “Not hungry,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, you gotta eat so you can take your medicine,” you tell her, keeping your tone even and patient, “otherwise, you’ll feel sick. C’mon, you love pasta.”

“I don’t have to take any goddamn medicine,” she snaps, scowling at the three pills at her table setting. “These aren’t even mine.”

Well, then, whose are they? Do you think I robbed a Rite Aid? You want to snap, but you bite back the retort. “Yes, Grandma, they are. This one,” you point to a small, white pill, “is for your blood pressure. And this one,” you point to a larger yellow one, “is your multivitamin, and this little yellow one is for, um…” you hesitate, “for Alzheimer's.”

“I don’t have Alzheimer’s!” Grandma shouts, swiping the pills to the ground. They fall with a clatter, bouncing underneath the table. “And I’m not eating shit.” She storms off to her room, muttering a slew of swear words under her breath.

You take a deep breath, feeling the oxygen fill your lungs. This isn’t the first time she’s had an outburst like this, and you know to just leave dinner on the stove, and she’ll come and eat in a few minutes when she forgets that she’s “not hungry.” In the meantime, you pick up the fallen medication and place them back on her napkin before digging into your own bowl of spaghetti.

Sure enough, she joins you about fifteen minutes later, exclaiming that “something smells good,” and eating her dinner happily. She only asks you twice where you’re from and when you’re leaving, but your heart still sinks with each question. The grandma who never missed a birthday and brought your favorite candy when she visited had all but been erased by a vicious disease. All you can do now is keep her safe and enjoy the brief moments when she’s smiling.

There’s only silence when Eddie shows up at Gareth’s house after dropping Harris at Wayne’s trailer. He’s usually greeted by the sound of everyone warming up and tuning their instruments. For a second, he thinks that he has the wrong night, or he forgot that they canceled practice, but he finds the guys sitting in Gareth’s garage. They all look up guiltily when they hear him walk in.

“Who died?” Eddie asks with a nervous laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Seriously, guys, what’s going on?”

Gareth bites his lip, wordlessly turning to Jeff. Eddie stiffens a bit at the silent shift to Jeff’s newfound leadership. Since when does Gareth look to Jeff to speak up?

“Ed, we need to talk with you,” Jeff says, sitting up a bit taller. “We, uh, we think Corroded Coffin needs a bit of hiatus.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and gives a disbelieving snort. “Oookay,” he says sardonically. “And why are you telling me that we should break up the band I founded?” He walks closer to his bandmates, challenging them with the fury behind his eyes.

“It’s not fun for us anymore, man,” Danny admits. “This is supposed to be something we do to relax, blow off some steam and get a break from the real world. But lately, it’s been more of a chore.”

“A chore?” Eddie echoes, scoffing loudly. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Jeff stands up, ready to bulldoze through whatever counterattack Eddie concocts. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re a miserable person to be around. When you first moved back, when Harris was a newborn, we figured it was just a lack of sleep. But your kid’s four now, Munson,” Jeff says pointedly, “and you’re still a dick.”

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Eddie mutters with an incredulous laugh. “Let me get this straight: I have a couple of bad days, and you shut shit down? Without even talking to me about it first?”

This ignites a spark in Jeff, and he puffs out his chest and takes another step towards Eddie. “You wanna talk about it? Fine; we’ll talk. What should we start with, hm? The way you can never be happy for any of us unless it benefits you? The way you act like an immature teenager, selling drugs instead of getting a real job? The way you treat women like they’re disposable?” He looks Eddie dead in the eyes and says curtly, “I heard about your little ‘frigid bitch’ comment. And at her job, too. Real nice.”

“Why do you care whether or not I still sell? Or how I treat women?” Eddie shoots back. “Did I get you in trouble with your old lady or something?”

“That’s the other thing,” There’s no mistaking the bitterness seeping from Jeff’s pores. “I tell you–one of my oldest, closest friends–that I’m getting married and having a baby with the love of my life, and you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit.”

Eddie feels his mouth dry up, knowing that everything Jeff’s said is true; he clears his throat and tries to play it off. “You cool with this, Gareth?” he asks the drummer, hoping no one caught the waver in his voice.

Gareth can’t even let his gaze meet Eddie’s as he mumbles, “I used to look up to you, man. You were my honest-to-God hero. But now, I…I don’t want to be like you anymore.”

The confession is a total knockout; Eddie stumbles back as though he’s actually been punched in the gut. “Whatever. You can all choke for all I care.” He slings his guitar case back over his shoulder and starts towards his car.

“Let us know when you decide to grow up,” Jeff calls out. Eddie just flips him off, slamming the car door and speeding down the road.

Fuck them, he thinks, barreling through a stop sign without even noticing. Who the fuck do they think they are; breaking up the band because they don’t like my attitude? They didn’t mind my attitude when it protected them from all the assholes at school, or when it got them into clubs when they were underage. But now they’re complaining about it? Fucking pricks.

As he turns into the trailer park entrance, a thought occurs to him: how the hell did Jeff know that I called her a “frigid bitch” at work? What did she do, call him up and snitch on me? Trying to ruin my life all because I didn’t call her? He grips the steering wheel even tighter, throwing the car in park and stomping out to Wayne’s trailer. He knocks impatiently, as though he’s been kept waiting.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Wayne asks, concern written all over his face. “And why do you look like you’re about to punch a wall–Jesus, Ed, take a breather.”

“They kicked me out of the band,” he mutters through gritted teeth, walking over to where Harris is eating a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of the TV and sitting down next to him, pressing a kiss to his curly hair. “Gave me some BS about taking a break, how I make all of them miserable, blah blah blah.”

“What’s ‘BS’?” Harris pipes up with a mouthful of cheesy pasta, but Eddie just mumbles, “don’t worry about it,” under his breath, and the boy goes back to watching a rerun of The Flintstones.

Wayne sighs, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “They said that you make them miserable?” he asks, wincing slightly. He knew that his nephew’s demeanor had changed considerably over the years; what was once teenage cynicism had slowly morphed into a constant state of anger and unhappiness. Wayne thought maybe it was just in his head, or just around him, but if Eddie’s best friends noticed it, too, it was more serious than he’d initially thought.

“More or less,” Eddie chuckles tersely. “And then they threw something in there about my–my job, about how I, um, pursue lots of different women, how I don’t support their choices when we all know it’ll take away from the band.”

“Support their choices?” Wayne echoes.

“Jeff’s girl is having a baby, and he wants to marry her,” Eddie explains, biting his thumbnail as he shakes his head incredulously. “So he’s gonna have less time for Corroded Coffin. How are we supposed to make something of ourselves if he’s gonna flake?”

“I don’t know if that’s flaking–”

“I mean, let me get this straight,” Eddie interrupts, standing up to pace. “Jeff’s a goddamn superhero for knocking someone up and taking time away from the band, but I’m the one who’s ruining it for everyone? Because I actually act like a rockstar?”

“Well, Rockstar,” Wayne crosses his arms over his chest angrily, “have you ever stopped to consider that maybe they’re right? Stopped to think about how your actions impact them? How would you feel if Jeff berated you for wanting to start a life with someone you care about?” He pauses for a moment, glancing at his grandson. “I’m not saying you have to get married or settle down, but if you aren’t gonna have a maternal figure in your boy’s life, you should at least show him how to respect women.”

Eddie snorts, grabbing his keys from his pocket and walking towards the door. “Like how women respected me? How all the girls at school called me a ‘freak’ or a ‘loser’?”

“You’re not in high school anymore!” Wayne shouts, snapping Harris from his Fred Flintstone-induced daze. “You’re a grown-ass man! With a kid! And if you spend the rest of your life jumping from girl to girl because of how you were treated fifteen years ago, you’re gonna continue to be one miserable son-of-a-b–gun.”

Ignoring his uncle’s rebuttal, Eddie waves Harris over. “C’mon, Har-Bear. We gotta get home. Say good-bye to Grampa Wayne”

“Ed, you don’t have to–”,

“I’m really not interested in what you, or anyone else, has to say about my life,” he snaps, taking Harris’s empty bowl and tossing it in the sink with a clatter. “I’m doing the best I can; my kid is fed and clothed, and the lights and water are on in my place. Harris, I said, let’s go.” He takes his son’s hand and walks him to the car.

“Daddy!” Harris whines as Eddie buckles him into his carseat. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to Grampa Wayne!”

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s okay, bud. We just gotta get home. Grampa understands.”

Harris bursts into tears, screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs. “I! WANT! GRAMPA!” he shrieks, kicking the back of Eddie’s seat over and over. “I don’t like you anymore, Daddy! You’re mean!”

Eddie tries to ignore the sting of Harris’s insult, reminding himself that he’s just a kid, but the words are like a thorn in his side. “I’m mean?”

“Mhm,” Harris says with another heaving sob. He tries to catch his breath between his words. “You…m-made…Grampa Wayne…yell. A-And th-then you…didn’t let me…say…goodbye!”

A dull ache thumps behind Eddie’s frontal lobe. “I’m sorry, Har. I should’ve let you say goodbye. We can call him when we get home, and you can say goodbye then.”

This seems to quell Harris’s tantrum, and his soft hiccups slowly fade out as he drifts off to sleep. Eddie gingerly unbuckles his seatbelt and lifts him. There will be a day where he won’t be able to lift him anymore, but he can’t bear the idea right now.

He carries his son up the three flights of stairs and places him in his tiny race car bed. Eddie’s frameless mattress is right next to it, and he lays down and watches Harris’s chest expand and contract with each little breath. His bow-shaped lips are slightly pursed, and there’s a smudge of dried mucus under his nose, a remnant from when he was crying earlier. Eddie makes a mental note to wash off his face before he goes to school tomorrow.

School—the thought of seeing you, really—had his stomach twisting in knots. Everything was fine until you waltzed into town, getting so bent out of shape over a one-night stand that you ratted him out to his bandmate. And now he looks like the asshole.

He’ll sort it out tomorrow. He’ll march into the school and ask for—no, demand—that Harris is transferred to another classroom. And then he’ll never have to deal with you again.

“I’m sorry, but all of the classes are full.”

Eddie raps his fingertips on the school secretary’s desk impatiently. “They’re…full?” He sputters, unable to believe his shitty luck. “Nah, there’s gotta be space for him somewhere. Can you check again?”

The secretary peers up at him over her coke-bottle glasses and rolls her eyes. “Mr. Munson, in order to remain in compliance with Indiana state standards, we are allowed a maximum of ten students per class. All of our classes already have ten students.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Can’t we just swap him with a kid from another class? He can have their teacher and they can have his.”

“If a student from a different classroom moves or requests a transfer, we can discuss allowing Harris to switch. For now, we can just make a note of it in his file and let you know if that opportunity arises.”

Harris looks at his dad with a puzzled expression. “But, Daddy, I like my teacher! She’s really nice and she doesn’t get mad at me if I forget the rules.”

Heat creeps into Eddie’s face as he feels the secretary’s glare–a mixture of bewilderment and irritation that he’s wasting her time with his asinine request. He gives a resigned sigh and takes Harris’s hand as he walks him towards the classroom.

“Have a great day, Har-Bear!” he says, feigning enthusiasm as they reach the door. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Harris frowns. “You’re not gonna walk me inside like tomorrow?”

Eddie pauses for a second, brows pinching together in confusion before he realizes what Harris means. “You mean yesterday?” Eddie corrects him, the corners of his lips tugging into a small smile at his son’s error. “I, uh, I think it’s better if I just stay out here.”

He waits for the impending tantrum, but to his surprise, Harris just shrugs and says, “Okay, bye!” and swings the door open, backpack bouncing as he speedruns into the room excitedly. Eddie can hear your voice, calm and patient, saying, “Harris, we use our walking feet in the classroom,” and his son replying with a chipper, “Oh, yeah! Sorry!”

He’s halfway down the hallway when you call out, “Mr. Munson?”

“Ya?” He stops walking, but doesn’t bother to turn around and face you. He stares at a bulletin board that reads Welcome Back to School in glittery red cut-out letters. Framing the message are little cardboard apples, each with a student’s name written on them in permanent marker. He spots the one that says Harris in the top left corner, and an unfamiliar twinge of pride sets in his chest.

“I need you to sign Harris in,” you say, trying to keep your tone as even as you do with your students. “It’s school policy.”

“Christ on a cracker,” Eddie grumbles under his breath, spinning back on his heels to head back to the room. So much for avoiding you. You’re standing outside the door, and he immediately notices the way your maroon pants hug your curves in all the right places. If only her personality was as pleasant as her ass, he thinks bitterly, dragging his gaze to the clipboard in your hand. “I didn’t have to do this yesterday.”

“It was the first day of school. I forgot,” you admit. You’re not exactly sure why you’re giving him so much ammunition; perhaps it was the way he just conspicuously drank in the sight of you. “Kinda crazy around here.” You will yourself to shut up, practically clamping your lips together so you’ll stop talking.

Eddie scoffs, yanking the clipboard from your grasp. “Well, aren’t you Teacher of the Year,” he sneers, clicking the pen and scribbling his signature next to Harris’s name before jabbing the sheet back at you.

Ignoring his insult, you force yourself to make eye contact as you inform him, “You’ll need to come back in later to sign him out.”

He bites back an irritated laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his torn black jeans. He’s equipped with another comment ready to launch at you, one related to your rendezvous a week earlier, but he stops when he sees Harris tugging on the hem of your shirt with urgency.

“What if I’m with my new teacher?” he asks innocently, eyes wide with concern.

“What new teacher, honey?” you ask, crouching down to his level. “You mean Mr. Will?”

Harris shakes his head fervently. “Daddy asked the lady at the desk if I could have a new teacher instead of you.”

You expect Eddie to be embarrassed by his son’s candidness, but he doesn’t even appear to be fazed. “It was your idea, Sweetheart,” he says with a sly grin. “I’m only making good on my word.”

“Well, look at you, keeping your promises,” you bite back instinctively, silently cursing yourself for snapping at him when you’re on the clock. He might be a total asshole, but he’s Harris’s dad first. At least while you’re at work. You turn your attention back to the little boy. “I’m sorry if we confused you, Harris. I’m your teacher, okay?”

Harris nods slowly, indicating that he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, but he doesn’t press the issue further. His gaze flits between you and his father. “Why’d you call her ‘Sweetheart’?” he questions Eddie. “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Eddie nearly chokes on his own tongue. “Absolutely not,” he insists at the same time that you chime in with a firm, “no.”

“Then why–”

“It’s a nickname,” Eddie interrupts before Harris can say anything else. “Like how I call you ‘Har-Bear,’ or how I call Grampa Wayne ‘Old Man.’”

“Oh.” Harris chews on the answer before seemingly accepting it, giggling when he thinks of the way his grandpa grimaces at the name ‘Old Man.’. He smiles up at you. “Can I call you Sweetheart, too?”

You smile back at him, ruffling his curly hair. “That’s Ms. Sweetheart to you,” you tease, but as a four-year-old, he doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm.

“Okay, Ms. Sweetheart!” he laughs, and he mimics your movements and ruffles your hair right back before you stand up. How is this kid so precious when his dad is a complete and utter douchebag?

“Well,” Eddie says finally, crossing his arms over his chest, “I won’t forget about signing him out when I pick him up.”

“Try to get here on time today,” you retort, guiding Harris over to where Will is playing with the other students. “Really makes my job easier when the parents do what they’re supposed to do.”

He walks away with a haughty laugh. “Bold of you to assume I’d want to make anything easier for you.”

The rest of Eddie’s morning proceeds as normal. He picks up the product from Rick’s place and gives him his cut of what he made yesterday. Carefully separating it into small baggies, he delivers to his usuals: the guys who work down on the loading dock, the supergenius stoner who allegedly works as some top government official, the young teacher at Hawkins High who, more than once, has paid for her share with decent head behind the football field. Of course, Eddie keeps a bit hidden away for himself. Whoever coined the phrase don’t get high on your own supply never had a seemingly never-ending stash of weed.

He arrives back at his apartment just before noon, ready to crash on the couch and watch some mind-numbing TV. Opening the door, he kicks off his muddy sneakers to find his uncle sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs anxiously.

“Jesus, Wayne!” Eddie shouts, putting a hand to his chest. Giving him a key to the place suddenly didn’t seem like such a great idea. “Scared the shit outta me. What’re you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

“Took the day off,” Wayne explains, reaching for the manila envelope that he’s placed on the cushion next to him. “Had, uh, an appointment.”

Based on the serious look on his face, Eddie assumes he’s talking about a doctor, and the blood drains from his face at the thought of Wayne battling a terminal illness. “Shit, you okay? Are you sick?”

“Sit down, Eddie.” He hands him the envelope without another word. Eddie does what he says, flipping up the edges of the silver fastener and taking out a small stack of stapled papers. He scans the documents, expecting to see some kind of medical test results. Instead, his eyes widen as he reads the opening lines:

TEMPORARY CUSTODY AGREEMENT:

I, EDWARD JOHN MUNSON, the custodial parent of the following child(ren): HARRIS WAYNE MUNSON, do hereby give custody to WAYNE ALBERT MUNSON.

“What the hell is this?” Eddie snarls, clenching his fists and crumpling the papers. “Are you trying to take my kid away from me? Is this some kind of sick revenge because of our fight yesterday?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Ed, this has nothing to do with what happened yesterday. I’ve had this meeting with the lawyer for a while now.” He lets out a long, tired sigh. “When you got arrested a couple months ago, it made me realize how much I was turnin’ a blind eye to your…business.”

“You mean when Hopper let me off with a warning?” Eddie reminds him. He rolls his eyes impatiently, but his bouncing leg gives away how nervous he is to have this conversation. “The Chief isn’t gonna let anyone lock me up just for selling pot. I won’t sell the hard shit anymore, and Rick knows that.”

But the older man presses on, ignoring his nephew’s rebuttal. “When your dad got arrested, I was lucky that the state gave you to me instead of sticking you in foster care. But we were both twenty-odd years younger; I don’t know they’d be so willing to let an old man take care of a four-year-old without it in writing.”

The mention of his father has Eddie seeing red. “I’m not my dad.” he spits. “My dad didn’t fucking take me to school. Couldn’t even be bothered to make sure I had everything I needed. Food, water, shelter? That piece of shit didn’t give a rat’s ass.”

“But he did sell drugs. And that’s how he got busted,” Wayne points out, voice rising a bit. “And Hopper’s nearly as old as I am. He’s gonna be retiring soon; we can’t keep countin’ on him to cover for you.” His eyes are misty with tears as he says, “all I want is for Harris to have the same kind of protection that you had. Just until you get a job that doesn’t put you at odds with the law. It’s all temporary, see?” He motions to the first bolded word at the top of the document.

But Eddie’s too enraged to care, tearing up the papers and letting them fall to the floor like legal confetti. “I’ve gotta go,” he hisses, grabbing his keys so quickly that they clatter among the sea of document scraps. “You should go, too.”

“I could get you some work at the plant,” Wayne offers meekly. It’s not the first time he’s extended the opportunity, but he figures it’s worth a shot. “Just somethin’ while you look for what you really wanna–”

“I said, leave!” Eddie shouts. “I don’t need you poking your nose in my life anymore. My life works for me, and it works for Harris, and there’s no reason to turn everything upside down.”

“You think his dad gettin’ thrown in prison won’t turn his life upside down?!” Wayne snaps, finally unloading everything onto Eddie. “You think being torn away from the people he loves won’t hurt him? I’d do anything to keep that boy safe, just like I did for you, you ungrateful sonofabitch.”

Eddie’s response flies off of his tongue before he can bite it back. “And look how that turned out for me.”

A pained expression crosses Wayne’s face, but he recovers quickly. “I’ll always love you, Ed. No matter what.” He pauses. “But I don’t like who you are anymore. Ever since you moved back here, all you’ve done is push away the people who care about you.” He starts towards the door before briefly turning back. “When you’re ready to let people in, to be happy again, you let me know.”

Eddie scoops up his keys and flings open the door, letting it slam behind him. His fingers tremble as he fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket. It takes a few tries before he can steady his hands enough to light one, and he inhales deeply to try and calm his nerves. How could Wayne possibly think that Harris wasn’t safe with him? After everything Eddie had sacrificed for his son; the dreams he gave up, the life he let go of…

Did anyone actually believe that he still wanted to be here, in Hawkins, the town bursting with haunting memories? Every time he drove near the high school, he could practically hear the echoing taunts of freak and loser emanating from its hallowed halls. No; he was only here because he couldn’t raise a kid alone. Apparently, Wayne thought he was incapable altogether.

He goes through another three cigarettes on the ride to the preschool, snuffing out the last one with the toe of his scuffed Vans outside the entrance.

“I need to sign out my son, Harris Munson,” he tells the secretary, who gives him a bemused glare. “Family emergency.”

The secretary nods, picking up the phone without taking her eyes off of Eddie, as though she’s concerned that he’ll bolt if she lets him out of her sight. He hears her relaying the message that Harris’s dad is here to pick him up early, but he’s too busy pacing back and forth to eavesdrop for a response.

All he can think about is how it would feel to sign those papers, basically admitting defeat. Admitting that he couldn’t handle fatherhood. Just because he stepped up when Harris’s mom wasn’t able to be a parent didn’t mean he was a good dad. It just meant he stuck around.

Maybe his presence in Harris’s life was doing more harm than good.

“Mr. Munson?” Your voice draws him out of his rumination. You’re holding a now-empty Tupperware that once contained a salad; dressing smeared on the inside, and your eyes hold nothing but concern. Nothing in your body language demonstrates any sort of contempt, and Eddie has to wonder how bad he looks for you to not hate him, even briefly. “Is everything okay?”

It’s then that he realizes that his lip is bleeding from biting it so hard, and his cheeks are wet with tears.

“Don’t you have a classroom of kids to watch?” he sneers, watching as you wince. “Really vying for that Teacher of the Year spot, aren’t ya?”

“It’s my lunch break…” you start before realizing that you have no need to defend yourself to him. “Why are you so mean to me?” You keep your tone as hushed as possible, not wanting to attract any unwanted listeners. “Seriously, what did I do to you?”

“Besides ruin my life?”

You scoff incredulously, annoyance creeping back into your posture. For some reason, this bothers Eddie less than seeing you worried about him. “What are you talking about?”

“Your little gossip session with Jeff?” he spits back. “The one where you told him I called you a frigid bitch? Or maybe the one where you painted me to be some asswipe womanizer all because I didn’t call you?” He rakes his fingers through his long brown curls. “I have no one now; are you happy? Christ, you’ve lived in this goddamn town for two minutes and you’ve managed to turn my best friends against me.”

“I didn’t do shit,” you fume, whispering the last word in case children are passing by. “I told Jess, and I didn’t know she was at her sister’s place. And the only reason Jeff even knew about our night together was because I needed a ride after you basically kicked me out of your apartment.”

“You weren’t supposed to sleep over,” he murmurs so softly, you can barely hear him.

“Why not? What would’ve been so bad about that?”

He doesn’t have the chance to answer–or come up with a half-hearted excuse–before Harris is flinging himself into his legs, wrapping his arms around his waist in a tight hug. “Daddy! Mr. Will said I’m going home, but none of my friends are going home.”

Eddie scoops up his son, resting him on his hip. “That’s because you and I are having a super-special, super-secret Daddy-Son Day at the zoo!” he whispers in his ear, and Harris beams in response. Eddie’s own father never took him out of school and brought him on fun outings. The only time he got out early was when they were on the run from the cops or evading an eviction notice over unpaid rent. Zoo trips? Unheard of. So there, Wayne.

“Have fun!” you chirp, swallowing your anger for Harris’s sake, and for your own. “I can’t wait to hear all about it, Harris.” You rub his back gently and walk back to your classroom. Like most of your encounters with Eddie Munson, you leave with more questions than answers.

“Daddy, look at that!” Harris shouts happily, pointing to a flamingo stretching and flapping its pink wings. “Look how fluffy it is!”

Eddie squints in the sun to get a better view. “Yeah,” he agrees with a laugh, squeezing Harris’s hand. “Fluffy like a teddy bear.”

Harris frowns, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “No, Daddy. That’s a bird, not a bear.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says, trying to hold back his laughter. “You’re really learnin’ a lot in school, huh?”

“Mhm,” Harris says, leading his dad to the next exhibit. A hippo pops its head out of the water and glances around curiously before lowering back down. “Ms. Sweetheart is the bestest teacher ever! She sings songs, an’ reads to us, an’ she’s even helping me write my name!”

At the mention of your inadvertent nickname, Eddie’s jaw clenches. It’s my own stupid fault for bringing up school, he thinks bitterly, but brushes past it. “Are you having fun on our Daddy-Son Day?”

“Most fun ever!” Harris jumps up and down with each syllable. “Did you and Grampa Wayne do Daddy-Son days?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Har, remember? Grampa Wayne is actually my uncle, not my dad.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harris says, slowing his pace slightly. “But he was kinda like your dad, right? He took care of you like he’s your dad?”

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, he took care of me like a dad.”

“Where is your dad? Why didn’t he take care of you?”

“He, um, he couldn’t,” Eddie offers lamely. “He didn’t know how to be a dad. So Grampa Wayne decided to raise me.” As he says the words, he feels sick. He’s tried so hard not to be like his old man–his biological one–and yet he’d basically become a carbon copy. Just a guy in way over his head, failing to be the man his son needed him to be. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” Harris chirps happily. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go see the penguins now?”

“Sure thing, bud.”

On the way back from the zoo, with Harris nodding off in the backseat after the self-proclaimed “best day of his life,” Eddie pulls into the record store parking lot. It’s changed quite a bit since his younger years, but the music selection is still the best this town has to offer. He peruses their metal section, a snoozing Harris resting his cheek against his chest. Plucking a few cassettes from the bin, he places them on the counter and digs into his back pocket for his wallet. A handwritten HELP WANTED sign catches his eye.

“You guys hiring?” he asks the bored teenager behind the register.

“Yup,” comes the monotone reply, not making eye contact as he rings up the tapes.

Eddie waits a beat before continuing. “Is there an application or something?” The cashier pulls a sheet of paper from behind the sign and hands it to him. “Cool. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.” Eddie takes the bag of cassettes and shuffles back towards the car.

The application feels like it’s staring at him from where he’s set it on the passenger seat. The idea of being a minimum wage employee makes him cringe; it’ll probably take him weeks to earn what he makes in a day for Rick. He glances in the rearview mirror at his peacefully sleeping son.

“Only for you, Har-Bear.”

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